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Summary
What was that.
Actually, more accurately, who was that.
On the couch in his living room, where he had definitely left a black cat, was now a naked person with endless pale skin. The sun had thrown a patch of rays onto the stranger's black hair, and his back was marred with pink, healing scars. Viktor just stood there and stared, and stared, and stared.
"What the-"
Viktor picked up a cat from a shelter. Who knew the cat was actually human?