Best Furriends

Chapter 1: Nepeta

 Your name is Nepeta Leijon.

It's friday and to be honest with yourself, you couldn't feel more miserable.

If you had a normal life, which you don't, you would be praising the lord that you get a break.

Unfortunately for you, your life isn't normal; Far from it.

In fact, you would much rather stay at work overnight than go back home.

You've tried. Oh God, have you tried.

You would ask your best friend, Feferi if you could stay overnight but a few factors stop you dead in your tracks.

One, your boyfriend would get way too... Overprotective. Yes, you think that that is an appropriate description of him.

Two, last time you did that, it was new year's eve, you were surrounded with alcohol and you were two best friends having a grand old time.

Yup... Best friends. Reaaaal good friends.

Things would have gotten really out of hand and you'd have done something... pretty gay.

... You can't trust yourself drunk anymore.

A chorus of honking behind you brings you back to the present.

You're at a green light and you're not going.

Oh lord, how long have you been idling there?

You switch directly into Panic mode and floor the gas pedal, once again forced to live in reality.

You got out of work late as it is and then you had to go to the store to buy food so your boyfriend doesn't kill- so your boyfriend doesn't starve.

Every day is like this. If you're even one second late getting your foot through the door, your boyfriend bea- Your boyfriend gets... overprotective and hugs you tightly. Very tightly.

You usually end up crying afterwards; And he doesn't care. He even laughs sometimes.

N- Not that he doesn't care! You're sure he cares to some extent.

He just doesn't know how to show it is all!

As for his laughing... He just has quite the crude sense of humor!

You've seen his good side! Once in awhile...

You should be used to this by now, you think. You should be adjusted to this abuse- You mean behavior pattern by now. You should be rock hard. Not letting anyone fuck with you anymore. But no...

Turn left.

You're still as pathetic as you were four years ago when you let him pick you up like a stray. Even more, due to you "recovering" from your eating disorder.

Sharp right, another left aaand... You're home...

You hesitantly brake and park the car, turning off the engine, your hand shaking.

Closing your eyes you exhale and grab the groceries from the passenger's seat and close the door with your foot.

You flinch at your own doing, hoping the door didn't slam too loud.

You walk on the gravel path feeling it crunching beneath your feet, looking for your apartment.

You unfortunately find your door number and open it.

Please don't squeak. Please don't squeak. Please don't-

The door squeaked. Very loudly.