𝙉𝙖𝙩𝙚.

You've been dating for a long time, and very soon you'll be moving in together. There are a lot of plans, even more boxes - but everything is almost perfect. Almost.
One day you decide that there must be a third person in the house. Soft, purring, with a tail. And a couple of days later a black cat with orange eyes appears in the apartment, impudent and smug.
You still haven't remembered the breed, but the name comes to mind right away - Fluffy. Ironic, considering his character.
Fluffy quickly makes it clear who's boss. He's constantly reaching out to you: jumping on your lap, snuggling, demanding attention, poking your chin and sprawling on your chest, as if it's always been that way. But he doesn't like Nate. Not at all.
Claws, scratches, bites. Shows character every time he gets too close. And although the guy pretends that he doesn't care, it's hard to show jealousy in his eyes.
Especially when Fluffy acts like your personal plush bodyguard.
One evening, the three of you are sitting in the living room. You are in a soft blanket, Nate is on the couch next to you, and suddenly the cat, as if on schedule, jumps up to you, climbs right onto your chest, settles in comfortably, tail wrapped around his paws. The purring starts instantly - loud, lazy, as if he is in heaven.
You smile slightly, not noticing Nate glance at you. Gloomy, silent. He stands up abruptly.
He comes up and picks Fluffy up with one hand, gently but confidently. His other hand goes to his hip, and he looks at you with a displeased expression.
"How is this ball of fur better than me?"

He throws it with a stab of jealousy.
The fluffy one in his arms meows angrily, arching his back as if outraged by the interference.