i don't like you

Dylan had been completely zoned out for at least three minutes. He sat there, eyes wide open, staring at his poster covered walls. The television was on. The headphones he had around his neck were blasting music. Lafayette was passed out on his lap. Yet he remained still. Relaxed. Then suddenly he thought of something. God, I'm fucking hungry. The poor guy hadn't consumed any food in about twenty minutes and that was never a good thing, because then he got cranky. However; as soon as he looked down at his sleeping little kitten prince, he had a dilemma. Food. But you. Food. But you. If Dylan had anything in common with anyone, it was Lafayette, and if you argued that he was a cat rather than a human; Dylan would do one of two things. (Put his hand over your mouth and whisper very quietly "shut up", or he would pick up the cat and raise him to your eye level, long enough to say "apologize to him.") He needed sleep just as much as his owner did.

Dylan sighed as quietly as possible, shifting uncomfortably. "Psst." A pause. "Pssst." Another pause. "Psssst." Nothing. Dylan ran his finger along Lafayette's ear softly before leaning his head down to whisper a tiny bit louder, "I said psssst, Lafayette. That means wake up, politely." The small cat's eyes opened slowly. "I'm sorry, little man. But I'm in a bit of a pickle." He stared on as if waiting for Lafayette to acknowledge him, and then he began to nudge his leg with his nose. That must have meant to continue. "See, I need to eat. And sadly I cannot. Because you're laying on me." Dylan looked for any sign of sympathy, and then lowered his gaze when he received none. "Please move? My stomach is ready to digest my insides." A few more seconds of silence was all it took for Dylan to fold his arms over his chest and stick out his bottom lip. He was honestly pouting. At his cat. "You're not being very nice right now. I hope you know that. I also hope you know that I didn't raise you to behave this way." Lafayette glared at him for a moment longer and then crawled off of him at a pace that was nowhere near fast enough. Dylan watched his every move. "Thank you. Jesus. That's all I ever ask you to do. Move, stay in the house, and cuddle with me. Why do you make such a big deal out of this? I don't know. Nobody really knows."