Catnip .1.

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A.N.: I realized I haven't written a hybrid!au thing, so why not start now? It's a short drabble, but it's something, right? Please, expect slow updates for now. I was sad, so I wanted to write something happy, so here you go.

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Harry's fingers are numb at this point. He's been typing since six in the afternoon, and it's now past two in the morning.

His knuckles keeping cracking with each flick of his fingers, and his wrists are swollen.

All he wants to do is shut his laptop and crawl into bed to hide from it and to procrastinate even longer. Harry would've stopped, but his boss had so kindly threatened to de-ball him if he didn't finish this presentation script.

Louis: finish the presentation by tomorrow, or I'm going to cut your balls off with a plastic spoon.

Harry sighs and begins to type out the closing sentence for the eighth paragraph. He's mid-sentence when there's the sound of clambering cabinets followed by a loud bang. His fingers pause, and before he realizes it, he's typed the word fuck into the word innovation. There's a flash of blond hair, and it's zooms down the hallway before Harry can question it.

Niall's definitely found the catnip again.

He can hear the pads of Niall's feet sprawl across the floor, nails tearing into the carpet with each turn he makes. Harry sighs even louder this time as he rewrites innovation and continues his sentence. He thinks about all the other times that Niall's found the catnip, and he questions himself why he keeps buying it, but he can't help but smile at how wound up Niall gets. And, he can't waste anymore time because this presentation is important. So, like any other loving cat-hybrid owner would do: he ignores the loud crashes.

Niall will eventually find a toy, or he'll calm down. Right, this is exactly what will happen.

Wrong.

There's another crash, and Harry contemplates on deserting his work to check on the damage Niall's done, but he thinks his balls are more important than a broken vase.

Harry's knuckles crack, and he moves his finger to the keyboard again, but he's soon showered in his work papers. Niall skids across his desk, all of the objects - save for his laptop - crash to the floor.

"Niall!" Harry shouts, but it's more of a whine. He looks up from his laptop caught dangerously in his hands to the small figure seated on the top of his desk.

Niall doesn't flinch like he usually does. His pupils are blown wide, the slivers of dark blue the only colour to them. His tail is flicking dangerously, ears perked, and he's staring at Harry with a blank, crazed expression. Before Harry can scold him, Niall's tripping over himself and skittering out of his office.

Harry throws his head back and groans at the energy that will be needed to clean and reorganize the papers and to collect the pens.

He leans down, collects the pens and drops them onto the desk and slowly reorganizes the papers. It takes nine minutes for the papers to be clipped together and placed on the desk. Then, for another painful hour of listening to Niall bound around the kitchen, and Harry groaning over his work, Harry's nearly in tears. He hears another loud clatter of a pot in the kitchen, and, at this point, Harry finds his work useless, and he slowly makes his way to the kitchen.

The hallway's surprisingly clean, except for the tears in the carpet, but the kitchen is a mess.

The drawers and cabinets that Niall can reach are all flung open, contents thrown around the kitchen, and Harry finds himself sighing deeply again. He decides to ignore the mess, and, instead, he pours himself a cup of black coffee. It's bitter and burns his tongue, but it reminds Harry that he's not a corpse, but a sleep deprived employee.

Harry drags himself to the kitchen table and rests his head on the surface.

It's quiet, and Harry's, too tired to find it suspicious. He decides to tell himself that Niall's decided to calm down and sleep. However, Niall's actually under the kitchen table, on all fours, crawling towards Harry's body. He places his hands on Harry's knees, chin on one hand, and quietly mews.

Harry jerks quickly when Niall's hands land on his knees, but he quickly calms down and looks down at Niall. He's looking up at Harry, and his eyes have returned to their normal state, so Harry picks him up and cradles him in his lap.

He scratches softly behind his ears, and Niall's purring rocks him to an even more exhausted state. He gently slips a hand under Niall's shirt and rubs the knobs of his spine, and Niall seems to calm down.

"Hey, Ni. You ready for bed?" Niall stops purring, and Harry internally cries.

Before Harry can put Niall down, Niall's feet are kicking off Harry's stomach, and he's skidding down the hallway, nails tearing the carpet.

Harry regains his breath and dreadfully counts.

1 . . . 2 - crash.

Harry's eye twitches, and he picks up his coffee mug in an attempt to calm himself down.

There's another handful of thumps as Niall bumps into the walls, and Harry thinks he hears a picture or two shatter.

The house falls silent again, and sweat pricks at Harry's neck. Harry listens to the eerie silence, hands threatening to crack the mug in his hands. He begins to stand when he hears a loud crash and the pierce of glass shattering. The ground shakes slightly from the impact of the now broken object.

Niall whines and meows loudly from the living room.

Harry's vein in his forehead pulses frantically. He's positive that Niall's knocked down the aquarium.

Maybe Harry will call in sick tomorrow. Maybe he'll stop buying the catnip. Maybe - crash.

Harry sighs.

Maybe he'll throw away all the catnip when he goes to the store tomorrow to get a new aquarium.

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