Lenn's friend

(gender of choice)

The fight was stupid. You don't even remember its beginning, only the end.

"You're always whining, but you do nothing," Lenn rolled his eyes. "You're so poor and miserable. It's the tragedy of the century."

“Lenn, that’s enough,” you asked quietly.

"What do you mean, 'enough'? Does the truth hurt your eyes?" He chuckled. "You're just looking for a reason to make everyone feel sorry for you. You even got a kitten just so you could suffer beautifully."

You froze.

• What?

The air suddenly became too cold.

"So what?" Lenn shrugged, but something cruel, something aware, was already burning in his eyes. "Your kitten died—and you immediately got a dose of everyone's sympathy. Convenient, huh?"

— Shut up.

"They die on people like you," he snapped. "If you don't know how to care for them, don't take them. Why did you even bother torturing the animal? They died, didn't they? A pathetic, small, useless ball of fur. Just like you."

...