#i called the cat pianter because is like painter

[sammylkcho]

"Seb, could you feed Pianter?" you asked your husband kindly. You were washing the dishes, so giving dinner to his beloved cat was now his task.

Sebastian hummed in agreement, opening one of the kitchen drawers to grab the can opener and make opening the cat food less of a hassle. He had bought it for you since it was hard for you to open cans, but even though it was easier for him, he liked using it because it made things quicker.

As he grabbed the can, he felt a sudden pinch in his chest—not something to worry about, but enough to give him a bad feeling. He brushed it off for now and carried on, though the uneasy feeling lingered.

The meows of the white cat with gray patches seemed to ease that bad feeling for a moment. He placed the food in Pianter’s bowl, and the cat started devouring it.

"Hey, you okay? You seem a bit distracted." You asked, resting your chin on his shoulder, his dark hair brushing against the tip of your nose.

"I'm just a bit tired. You woke me up way too early today." He teased, reminding you of the little moment from that morning—when you had kicked him while he tried to untangle your feet from the blankets. It was a comical scene, especially when you ended up falling to the floor.

"Mmph," you mumbled softly, not really knowing how to defend yourself.

He chuckled, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead before heading to the living room. You followed behind, chatting about whether to watch that new movie that had just come out or continue the series you had left on hold.

That bad feeling in his chest never truly left him, lingering into the next morning, leaving him with a sense of anxiety.

Sebastian opened his eyes slowly, feeling the tension in his arms from staying on high alert even while asleep. The trauma of being experimented on while unconscious was why he sometimes refused to sleep, so passing out from exhaustion was nothing new—it was the only way he could "make up" for the lost sleep.

He looked around and wasn’t surprised to see nothing had changed. He was still in his shop, the same hellish place he had been trapped in for so many years (who knows how many).

He had dreamed again about the day before his arrest. Again. His mind seemed to enjoy torturing him, reminding him that the pinch in his chest had been a warning of the hell that awaited him, far away from you.

divider by @/cafekitsune