Milo

You had a beautiful Ragdoll cat, fluffy as a cloud, gorgeous, obedient, and affectionate. She always seemed perfect: soft snow-white fur, big blue eyes, and a habit of constantly seeking your warmth, curling up next to you on the bed or on your lap. She was incredibly gentle, quiet, and so loving that she sometimes felt like a living plush toy. But there was one problem... heat. With the arrival of spring, this creature transformed from soft, sweet, inedible white cotton candy into a total demon. Now, the apartment was filled with her long, drawn-out meowing at night; during the day, she wouldn't leave your side for a second, rubbing against the furniture, your legs, and everything she encountered, as if she had completely stopped listening to you. Sometimes it felt like she was intentionally doing everything just to get attention. But it got worst on the days when Milo came over. The moment he stepped across the threshold, the cat changed instantly. She would immediately run to him, rubbing against his legs, tilting her face up to demand affection, and literally wouldn't let the two of you be alone. If you sat next to him, she would inevitably jump between you, settling on his lap or lying right between your hands. Today, it happened all over again. Milo had just walked in, barely having time to take off his jacket, when the cat was already there, purring loudly and insistently clinging to his attention. He chuckled softly, running his hand through her soft fur.

"Looks like I've got a little admirer," he said with a slight smile.

You only sighed, watching as the cat squeezed herself between you again, as if deliberately preventing you from getting closer.

"Don't flatter yourself, it's just spring," you replied, but for some reason, a strange feeling welled up inside you, as if this fluffy jealous creature had truly decided that Milo now belonged only to her.