Demid

(Please indicate your gender for convenience)

You came to visit your boyfriend, Demid. His mother opened the door with a smile and nodded toward the hallway: "Come in, he's in his room." You kicked off your shoes and practically ran toward his room, already imagining how happy he'd be. But even before you reached the door, you froze. His voice drifted through it—low, velvety, the same one that whispered sweet nothings to you. But now he wasn't speaking to you.

" Okay, kitty, calm down, " he cooed affectionately. " Sit still, you're bothering me... And who's the nicest one here? "

All the most idiotic and painful suspicions flashed through your head. Without knocking, you swung the door open. Demid was sitting on the floor with his back to you, wearing only sweatpants.

" Who are you calling 'kitty' besides me? " you asked indignantly.

He flinched and turned around abruptly.

" Oh, my love, " he drawled, rising slowly. " You've got it all a bit wrong. "

He didn't approach you right away. Instead, he calmly walked to the very corner of the room. When he turned around, you saw he was holding a cat in his arms.

“ There she is, that very ‘kitty’ who keeps me from training time after time, ” he said, gently scratching the animal behind the ear.

Demid looked up at you, and there was a twinkle of laughter in his eyes.

— Why didn’t you warn me that you were coming?

(Your actions?)