The adoption (regression)

(5) 1st dinner

(edited)

MICHEAL POV

"Buddy, hey buddy. It's time to wake up." I am awoken by someone gently shaking me. I sit up and push the person away, my heart racing as my brain slowly processes that I'm not in danger.

"Oh, woah. Hey bubba, you're okay. I'm not going to hurt you." Mr Jones holds his hands up in a surrender motion, his weight on the bed makes the mattress dip.

I glare at him, my nerves still shot.

"Dinner is ready, so let's go downstairs okay?" He said softly, standing up and holding his hand out. I ignore his hand and climb out of the bed.

He faces shows a flash of hurt before it is covered with a smile. I follow him as he walks out of the room.

The smell of food fills my nose as we get downstairs. A loud deep bark comes from my right and I turn my head to see a huge dog barreling its way towards me.

I let out a quiet shout, and jump behind Mr Jones. I hold onto his arm in a death grip as the large dog continues its barking as it jumps over to us.

"No, Duke! Settle down!" Mr Jones instructs to the animal. At his tone the pup settles down, walking over to us with his tail wagging furiously.

Another dog comes bounding towards us, it's gait slower than Duke's. This one isn't barking and looks friendlier. Both dogs reach to my waist, even though I'm a little smaller than average these dogs are still really big.

"So sorry about the scare buddy, but this is Duke, he is a Great Dane and can get a little excited meeting new people. And this little lady is Lola, an Anatolian Shepherd dog." Mr Jones explains, giving each dog a pat on the head. I hold my hand out for them to smell, still half hiding behind Mr Jones.

Both dog excitedly lick my hand, their tails wagging extra fast.

"Let's go eat, you can play with the puppies later." Mr Jones says, resting his hand on the small of my back.

When we walk into the dining area Mrs Jones is setting the table. The pitter patter of nails on hardwood floors follows us. I watch as the dogs get comfortable under the table, waiting for any dropped food.

Mr Jones thanks his wife and gives her a light peck on the cheek before sitting down in a chair.

"You're welcome honey." Mrs Jones replies sweetly, leaning in to her husbands affection.

"Why don't you sit down right over there sweetie? I'm going to get us some drinks." Mrs Jones points to a plate with food on it resting in front of a cushioned bench seat. The affectionate nicknames continue.

I sit down, staring at the brisket, mashed potatoes and green beans on the plate. I look at Mr Jones, he hasn't started eating yet so I don't either.

With a closer look at the plates I notice that both of them have nice white plates that look like they would be very easy to break, while mine is a plastic light blue color. Do they not trust me with a regular plate?

Mrs Jones comes back with three cups of water balancing in her hands. She sets them down on the table, sliding one to me and one to Mr Jones.

As soon as Mrs Jones sits down her and Mr Jones connect hands, and both of them hold one out to me. I awkwardly hold their hands, earning a bright smile from Mr Jones. They both bow their heads and close their eyes as Mrs Jones starts a prayer.

I stare at them as they pray for blessing and good health for themselves and others. I am shocked when my name come up but quickly recover. Mrs Jones prays for my health and happiness, hoping I fit in well and accept the love the lord and them have in me.