Hux couldn't believe he saved a cat. What would he do with it? He never had any pets. He only had contact with his neighbor's black cat Lilly and that's it. What was he thinking? Maybe... maybe he thought that he was lonely? But no one needed to know that, it was a weakness that only hindered him in achieving his highest potential. No matter the reason, he now had a cat. He remembered the first day he brought it back to the base, its injuries tended to. He gave every crew member that even dared to look at him the darkest, most bone-chilling glare he could muster. Because even if he was carrying a cute ginger kitten pressed against his chest, he could still look like he was capable of cold-blooded murder, because he very much was.
Now, a few days have gone by and the cat's injuries seemed to be healing well. She seemed to be mostly sleeping on the makeshift bed he had arranged for her made out off a pillow he put on the floor in his bedroom. Hux didn't have a name for her yet, he wasn't too imaginative when it came to that.
It was strange coming back to his quarters and not being met with crushing emptiness, but another soul, maybe not waiting for him, but being there. He found it was easier to breathe somehow, he didn't understand. Had he really been craving company this much? Sure, there was Phasma, his friend, but this was definitely different. Someone... something
that relied on him to take care of it. Without him she would most likely not survive. He was important to someone. Even if it was just a cat.
And Hux was going to uncharacteristic lengths to make sure his pet lived. The first day he brought her to the Starkiller base, he dared setting foot into the canteen, a place he hadn't really been to before. It felt beneath someone of his rank, it was mostly used by stormtroopers after all. But there he had been, asking the cook if they had any food fitting for a cat. "Yes, sir, right away, sir." He pretended not to feel the eyes following him as he walked out with some canned food and two small bowls.
This was ridiculous.
One day after working on the bridge and overseeing the stormtrooper's training with Phasma, he actually felt good about retiring to his chambers.
Well, that was at least the case until he saw what awaited him there. His green eyes bulged at the disaster. Utter chaos! The couch was destroyed, the fabric scratched and torn, his bed was a mountain of feathers, but the worst was what happened on his desk... All of his projects and reports, in pieces! The designs for his precious superweapon lying on the floor turned into shreds. Armitage felt like screaming, but no, that wouldn't be him. Instead he swallowed, trying to calm down.
"Millicent, where are you, you horrible cat?" The name just slipped out, it seemed somehow fitting. She had indeed shown strength by turning his living space upside down. He should've known that she wouldn't always stay as calm and sleepy once the injuries healed it seemed she showed the real devil of a personality that hid inside of her. Hux didn't mind a feisty cat, but this...
He plopped down onto his desk chair, carding his fingers through the pieces of paper, nothing could be done to rescue these anymore. He balled his hands into fists, his obsessive-compulsive traits definitely not having a pleasant experience right now.
He didn't see when Millicent cautiously approached him, but he felt it when she jumped onto his lap. She moved her paws to his chest, looking up at him. In turn he glared at her, his green eyes darkened. "Go away, you nuisance. I should've just left you there." Maybe, he was sulking, but he hated anyone touching his stuff, let alone destroying it. Millicent kneaded his chest with her tiny paws, and as much as he wanted to...
Hux sighed and scratched behind her ear. "I hope you know I hate you." He really didn't, but appearance needed to be held up.