Patrick and Henry were a handful. You didn't expect it to be so hard to deal with two hybrids.

It was legal for hybrids to go to school —as long as they went to the same one as their owners if they were still in student age—, so you had them signed in for highschool with you.

As I've said before, you didn't expect it to be this hard.

They seemed to not be able to take their hands off of you;: you always had Henry's arm around your waist or Patrick's hand on your thigh —claws slightly poking the skin as if telling you to dare and push him away—.

You were sure they didn't even pay attention to anything but you. But at least going to school was the perfect excuse to be around you the 24 hours of the day.

,,

Henry, your —farm—dog hybrid, was way calmer about it than Patrick. But, well, it was obvious it'd be since Henry was a bit 'domesticated' already while Patrick was a stray cat.

,,

Right now you were sitting in history class, the teacher had put on some boring old ass documentary in black and white about the second world war or something —not that you were paying attention—.

The class was dark, accompained with hushed whispers from students talking from time to time, and you were sitting at the back of the classrom. With your favourite dog to one side, Henry, and your favourite cat to the other, Patrick. You saw Patrick and Henry starting to glare at each other.

You felt Patrick's hand resting on your thigh, "subtly" inching up until his hand was resting under your skirt. The motherfucker flashed Henry a smirk, displaying his sharp feline fangs.

"stop it, fucker" Henry growled in a whisper, his voice taking a slight tone akin to a bark. He was frowning at the cat hybrid, his ears perked up and his tail slightly tilted up. Henry's paw moved to rest on your waist as he glared a the cat.

"what'cha mean, Henry? M'not even doing anything" Patrick feigned inocence, his feline tail swashing from side to side in mischief. He had a shit-eating grin on his face.