[The cat has his paw on the mouse, nails not yet extended and the mouse should be laying in fear - yet instead Theo grins up at Oliver. He knows Oliver, a Oliver, and what he's capable of. He yearns to be subjected to his touch again - it feels just as familiar as the bite of his words, which he so pathetically takes joy from as well. It's like old times, if he closes his eyes. Theo sighs, head lolling to the side.]
I'll try.
[He laughs. How sad is it he's still so in love with him?]
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I'll try.
[He laughs. How sad is it he's still so in love with him?]