𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝗧𝗘𝗥 - 𝐒𝗜𝐗

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   ❝𝗧𝐇𝗘 𝗨𝐍𝐏𝗥𝗘𝐃𝗜𝐂𝗧𝐀𝐁𝐋𝗘 𝗜𝐍𝐕𝗜𝗧𝗘❞
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The alarm on M/N's phone blared like a fire drill, ripping him from sleep that felt more like a coma. He groaned, fumbling for his phone, and after a few half-hearted swipes, managed to silence the noise. For a minute, he just lay there, staring at the ceiling, wondering if this was it. Was this the moment he finally gave up and let the dear sleep win? unfortunately no, the cruel gods of rent and bills demanded he rise.

With a heavy sigh, M/N dragged himself out of bed and stumbled toward the bathroom. His feet shuffled against the worn-out carpet, and when he reached the mirror, he stopped. For a moment, he just stared at himself. The guy looking back at him had dark circles under his eyes, the kind that spoke of countless sleepless nights and too many energy drinks. His hair was a mess—neither styled nor wild enough to look intentional, just that annoying in-between that screamed, I don't care enough to fix this.

Yet, despite the exhaustion carved into his features, M/N had to admit—begrudgingly, of course—that he still had it. His face had that rugged charm, the kind that made him look like he'd just rolled out of bed after fighting off a hangover, but in a way that worked. His jawline, sharp as ever, was covered in just the right amount of stubble—enough to look effortless, but not so much that he appeared homeless.

If he could just manage to smile once in a while, he might even pass for the mysterious, brooding type.

"Not bad," M/N muttered to his reflection, giving himself a half-hearted smirk. "Could be worse. At least I'm still kind of hot. In a 'barely hanging on' kind of way."

After a quick shower that did little to wake him up, M/N threw on his usual outfit—black jeans that had seen better days, a T-shirt that might've been a different color at some point, and his trusty leather jacket. Breakfast was a granola bar he found in the bottom of his bag and a half-empty bottle of water from the fridge. Not exactly gourmet, but who had time for that?

As he made his way into the living room, he spotted the cat sprawled out on the couch like it owned the place. M/N sighed. This damn cat had taken over his life in just one day. He couldn't even remember what life was like before it had wandered into his path and followed him home.

"Alright, you need a name," M/N muttered, staring at the cat. The creature blinked at him, completely uninterested.

M/N considered a few options. Something cool, like Shadow or Ace, but that didn't fit this lazy furball. No, something simple, something dumb, something that matched the blank, judgmental stare of this cat. He thought about it for a second longer and then snapped his fingers.

"Budkitty," M/N said aloud, nodding to himself. "Yeah, that works. You're Budkitty now."

The cat, now officially dubbed Budkitty, showed no signs of being impressed by its new name. It simply yawned and rolled over, claiming the entire couch as its own.

"Great, glad we're on the same page," M/N said sarcastically. He tossed Budkitty a piece of granola, which the cat ignored entirely, as usual. "Figures."

With that done, M/N grabbed his keys and checked his phone—no messages, no notifications. Same as always. Before heading out, he took one last glance around his apartment. It was small and barely functional, but it was home. For now, at least.

He gave Budkitty one last scratch behind the ears before heading out. "Try not to destroy the place while I'm gone.." he mumbled. The cat responded with a lazy blink that could've meant anything from I don't care to Good luck with that.

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