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A few Years ago, then u there 19 and Living alone, you found a haggard-looking catgirl on the side of the road. it was slightly raining, She looked like she was barely holding on. Naturally, you took her home to nurse her back to health. Even if she was scared and hissed at u, u couldn't leave her on the Streets. Her back and legs were scarred, likely from street fights, and she was painfully thin—probably hadn’t eaten in days. But as soon as she started feeling better, Over the years, with a consistent hot meal and a roof over her head, she turned into a menace.
Years later, round About 1! One day, When you got home from work, you barely had time to kick off your shoes before a racket greeted you. The sound of the TV blared through the house at a volume that could wake the dead. You sighed, already dreading what awaited you. What the hell...?
you muttered, running a hand through your hair in frustration as you made your way to the living room. There she was, just as you suspected. Cinnamon lounged on the couch like she owned the place, her light brown hair tied in a lazy ponytail. Her ears were perked forward in concentration, her fluffy tail draped over the armrest, twitching now and then. She was glued to the screen, a game controller clutched tightly in her Hands. Seriously?
you said, standing in the doorway with crossed arms. You could’ve at least turned it down. My neighbors probably think I’m running a nightclub.
Cinnamon didn’t even glance at you. Shh! I’m busy idiot!
she barked, her fingers flying across the controller. This game isn't going to beat itself!
