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There’s an open secret about the Fraldarius family.
Historically, some crest bearers, such as descendants of the saints and the bearers of the Crest of the Beast, were rumoured to have the ability to shapeshift into great creatures.
The Crest of Fraldarius held a similar power; it allowed its bearers to transform into big cats. Not all of them were able to do it-- this was classed as a prodigious ability. While Felix’s father could do so, Glenn could not. And as far as the wider world knew, Felix couldn’t either.
Which. Well, it wasn’t quite a lie. Felix couldn’t turn into a big cat.
But he could turn into a housecat.
The first time he had transformed, he was mortified once he had figured out exactly what had happened. He hid in the pile of blankets and pillows on his bed for hours. His maid tried to chase him out, thinking he was some common stray who had managed to make his way into the young master’s bed.
Terrified, he had made his way into his brother’s room. His brother was a cat fanatic and frequently had the castle strays visiting his rooms. Felix was sure they wouldn’t chase him out of there.
He was right. Glenn was very taken with the little kitten in his bed. He was also, however, extremely worried about his missing little brother. He blathered and wept on and on until Felix got so annoyed that he accidentally snapped back to his human form.
His father and brother had been terribly amused, but at Felix’s tearful insistence, they promised to keep his abilities a secret.
Despite his embarrassment on the matter, Felix still enjoyed transforming into a cat whenever he could. It felt freeing to be able to separate himself from worldly worries like his uncertain future, the boar's instability, and his tense relationship with his father.
He enjoyed the ability to go incognito and explore areas from a different perspective. Even familiar places were different as a small house cat. He enjoyed chatting with other cats and picking fights with the meaner ones. When he was younger, he’d perform silly pranks like locking people outside of their rooms, knocking vases off tables, and stealing and returning items in ways that convinced people that a place was haunted.
He continued doing so when he went to Garreg Mach. Whenever he was mad or annoyed at someone or something, he would wait until the evening to take his revenge. Sylvain, in particular, was the victim of such petty theft; Felix acquired a significant stash of unused lipsticks, history books, and unopened love letters.
After the war started, his father ordered him to do a few reconnaissance missions. Since no one knew about his abilities, it meant he wasn’t in much danger if he snuck into the Duchy or the Alliance territories. Intel was simply a different kind of weapon. Even he could appreciate that.
He continued on this way, slogging through the liminal space of war, unaware of any respite that would come their way. He'd half-resigned himself to either a life fending off the empire or an early death enabled by battle.
However, everything changed when the prince and the professor returned.
***
It was sad to see the state of the monastery. For the first few weeks of their new residence at Garreg Mach, there were barely any animals living there. Eventually, when the army started feeding scraps to the few monastery animals, the rest came back. He had to wait until the monastary was sufficiently populated before he could transform and walk around without making anyone suspicious. He spent those weeks being a little grouchy. He hated being restricted. As much as he loathed to admit it, his cat-self was a part of him.
His foul mood was made worse by the fact that Sylvain was constantly bugging him and trying to cajole him to go out to town with him to be his wingman. How disgusting. How was his behaviour so frivolous in the middle of a war? At least Felix found comfort in the fact that despite his words, Sylvain spent most of his nights in his rooms-- alone.
Eventually, he deemed the monastery adequately populated with cats and started going on his nightly walks again. Some of the priests and clerics recognised him and pointed as he trotted by. He tolerated a few pets from familiar faces. Mercedes was fond of petting him, so he begrudgingly allowed her to pet him for a few minutes whenever she saw him.
On one particular night of wandering, he stumbled across Sylvain.
He looked like a wreck, like numerous threads of life had been pulled out of him and he had unravelled at the seams. He reeked of booze, with faint notes of vomit and sickly perfume. During their school days, Felix had run into Sylvain multiple times with a girl on his arm. It had turned his stomach even then.
He hadn't seen Sylvain much at all these past few years. He'd visit Gautier occasionally when the Margrave requested Fraldarius aid in driving off the Sreng. Sylvain would return the favour by coming down to Fraldarius to help drive off the Duchy. Once in a blue moon, they would meet at Galatea to help Ingrid and her father deal with the probing Alliance forces. But the time they spent together was limited, mired in adrenaline, suspense and combat. It was safe to say that they rarely had time to catch up. Still, every time he saw Sylvain's stupidly handsome face, Felix lamented the fact that his childhood crush on Sylvain had barely dwindled. It still burned brightly, deep in his bones, thoughts, and dreams.
He didn't want Sylvain to interrupt yet another vestige of his life. Felix tried to turn around, but Sylvain approached him with surprising speed for a drunk.
“Oh, you look sorta familiar,” muttered Sylvain. “I used to see you around here all the time. Skittish thing.”
He tried to reach out and pet him, but Felix drew back with a hiss and glared at him.
“Hah, of course, you don’t want me to touch you. I’m disgusting,” he said tiredly. It was such a contrast to his usual bravado that Felix didn't know what to think of it. “You know, you’re not the first to reject me today. It seems like nobody wants me tonight.”
He looked really forlorn and downtrodden; his shoulders lay in a downward slope. He looked one moment away from crying.
When he was younger, Felix thought that Sylvain only ever acted pathetic to gather sympathy from their friends and to manipulate his various girlfriends. He was always so upbeat and cheerful that it was easy to forget that he was quite a melancholic person who was deeply troubled by his future and the way people perceived him.
“I’m tired,” said Sylvain. He sat down on the ground next to Felix and leaned against the wall. His eyes were drooping, as he was about to fall asleep.
This made Felix’s fur bristle. If people saw their master strategist passed out in the open like this, it would not bode well for morale.
He turned around and ran away to a safe place so he could transform. He needed to get this idiot back to his room.
Hauling Sylvain back to the dorms was no easy task; he was heavy and big, bogged down by muscle and height.
As Felix tried to guide him back, he felt Sylvain breathing into his ear. "Fe, 's that you?"
"Walk faster, you big lug. What were you thinking? You can't pass out there."
He heard Sylvain whine. "Fe, you're so meeaan."
Felix just huffed and kept walking. He tried to ignore the heavy feeling in his chest and warm against his back as he carried Sylvain back.
***
He tried to avoid Sylvain as a cat from that day on-- he didn’t really want to be sucked into his messes again or find out if he was out drinking or out with women. It was frustrating to think that Sylvain would look at literally every girl in their general vicinity before he would even glance at Felix. It was better for him not to know of Sylvain's dalliances.
However, despite his efforts, he found himself cornered by Sylvain again on his evening walks.
Sylvain didn’t smell like alcohol and vomit this time, which made it a great deal easier for Felix to tolerate his presence.
He approached Felix slowly this time, crouched down and offered him a piece of jerky.
Remembering the pitiful look on his face last time, Felix decided to be magnanimous and humour him. He took the jerky, gnawing at it and playing with it with his paws.
“Aw,” cooed Sylvain. “Aren’t you adorable?”
He reached out a hand to pet Felix, but Felix simply stopped playing with the jerky and fixed him with a wary stare.
“Okay, okay, no touching. Jeez, you’re just using me for a meal, huh? I guess that’s still better than most of the people in my life. At least you’re honest," said Sylvain with a wry quirk to his mouth.
He sighed and stood up, dusting off his knees. “Well, I guess I’ll see you around kitty.”
***
The war continued on, with or without the sanity of their prince. While the professor attended to Dimitri, Sylvain and the others helped plan logistics, supplies, and strategy. With Dimitri emotionally unavailable, command of the kingdom forces was temporarily left in Felix's hands. He was trained for this, but that didn't mean he enjoyed it or was particularly good at it. Thankfully, Seteth was cooperative as long as they agreed to rebel against the Empire.
Exhausted, Felix wasn’t able to transform every night. Instead, he opted to take an early night's rest when he could. Every few days when he became too restless, he would push himself to go for a late-night stroll.
He ran into Sylvain more than once. He would often try to pet him, or offer him little treats and such. Sylvain would regularly talk to him and tell him about his day. It was strange to hear him be honest about what he thought of their comrades or the bleak path laid out before them.
It did seem to lift his mood every time he confided in Felix, so Felix continued to allow him to do so. Every now and then he let Sylvain touch him a little, but that was it. He didn't particularly enjoy being pet, but Sylvain's hands were skilled and warm.
(Sylvain had almost given him a heart attack once, when he had abruptly stopped petting Felix and stared into eyes and murmured, "There's just something about you that's so familiar."
Felix had let out a small, unassuming 'mew', managing to charm Sylvain to continue his obedient petting with his usual cheer. Sylvain did not bring it up again.)
Felix resolved to go out to visit him regularly in his feline form; Sylvain seemed to haunt the same spot by the garden not too far from their old dorms most nights. He was so emotionally constipated that he barely talked about his true feelings and thoughts to his friends or even to Felix when he wasn't in his feline form. Felix just didn't want him exploding from emotional constipation, that's all.
One night, after a particularly exhausting war meeting, Felix met Sylvain in their usual spot by the garden. Sylvain was staring into the distance. His burnt umber eyes seemed clouded with heavy thoughts.
Felix pitter-pattered up to him, but he didn't seem to notice Felix's presence.
Annoyed, Felix meowed to get his attention.
Sylvain looked down and shook his head. "I'm not in the mood tonight, kitty."
Felix nudged at Sylvain's hand until he gave in and gave him a scratch. When Sylvain took his hand away, Felix circled him and used his legs as a backrub post, getting cat fur all other his nice trousers.
"Trying to cheer me up, huh?" asked Sylvain wryly. "You're being louder than usual. Trying to make up for me being quiet, huh?"
He sighed and sat back on the bench. "I had a bad day. I know what people think about me. I deserve it. I mean, I'm the one who built this image. They all think that I'm some shortsighted good-for-nothing. Well, nothing but my lance and my crest. But that's not really me. I wish people would bother to listen to me when I'm trying to help."
Felix meowed and walked through Sylvain's legs, trying to encourage him to talk.
Sylvain continued petting him. "I wish that people would be more like you, kitty. Giving me a second chance. Even my friends… I know they care. But I don't think they like me much. They've stuck around through habit, really. And they're all so competent, it's hard to feel useful around here."
Felix traced over his words in his mind. It seemed a little ridiculous in his opinion. Sylvain was one of the most competent people he knew, even though it was often despite his efforts and not because of them. Still, he had a knack for strategy and a mind for organisation and logistics. His combat skills and magical abilities were significantly impressive. Most importantly, his supportive bearing and the clarity of his advice was one of the binding forces of their crew; he was always able to help people get their thoughts together.
It was true that his reputation did him no favours in the war room. Officials, soldiers and knights weren't always willing to overlook his past transgressions; it seemed like his reputation as a lazy philanderer was inescapable.
Watching Sylvain pet him with a melancholic look on his face, Felix resolved to do something about it. If the idiot couldn't see his own worth, Felix would make him.
***
Determined, Felix cornered him after dinner the next night. With the most authority he could summon, he said, "Sylvain, come play chess with me."
"Chess?" asked Sylvain. He looked at Felix as if he had grown two heads. "You hate chess, Fe."
Felix shrugged. "I've no hand for strategy, but with the boar the way he is, it's clear that I need to change that."
"You could just leave that stuff to me," said Sylvain.
"I need to be flexible. Sometimes you won't be there. What if we need to change tactics in the middle of a battle?"
Sylvain hummed in thought, his mouth was pursed in concentration. "I suppose you're right. But I'm sure Annette would be a better teacher--"
"No. You're our lead strategist; I want you to teach me. Unless you don't want to help. That's fine," Felix said as nonchalantly as he could. He hadn't accounted for the fact that Sylvain would say no, but he was sure he would cave if Felix emphasised that he was needed.
Sylvain's eyes widened in alarm. "That's not what I meant at all. I just didn't want you to force yourself. You just seem so busy with all of this planning and paperwork. You're spending way too much time training too. You never get time to relax."
Ah, hook, line and sinker. "What, does spending time playing games with you not count as downtime? It's fine, Sylvain. I want to do this."
Still looking a little shell-shocked, Sylvain nodded dumbly. "I, well, I guess we can go back to the dorms? The library is full of people right now and I have a chess set in my room."
Felix agreed and they made their way back from the dining hall together. Sylvain kept sneaking glances at him as if checking for signs of demonic possession.
Once they set up the board in his room, Sylvain asked him if he knew how to play chess.
"I know the rules and some basic plays," answered Felix.
"What? Your old tutor didn't force you to play?"
Felix scowled and sat back in his chair. "I never liked it. We spent more time on the training grounds."
Sylvain laughed, as free as the sea. "That sounds about right. Well, that's what I'm here for."
He gestured at the board and started to play. Sylvain explained gambits as he played them and encouraged Felix to play certain moves and then explain why they were advantageous afterward. Felix still lost all of the matches and he still got frustrated, but he did feel like he was learning. Despite what Sylvain said, he was a decent teacher.
"It's nice spending time with you, Fe," said Sylvain. He wasn't quite smiling, but his eyes were upturned like lovely little crescents. The compliment resonated with Felix, and unfortunately made him blush, pulling at the strings of his heart. Sylvain usually went for shallow compliments; he would call people pretty or stunning. But he rarely said that he enjoyed spending time with anyone.
Sylvain fiddled with his captured pieces with a nervous hand. "We don't really get to do this much anymore."
"We have our meals and train together."
"That's not really the same. We do that out of necessity. Stuff like this is nice. I'm here because I want to be, not because I have to."
Felix hesitated before moving his piece and replying. "I enjoy it too. You're not so bad when you stop talking about girls."
Sylvain gestured to the thick tomes and stacks of paper on his work desk. He looked weary just glancing at them. "Most guys like hearing me talk about girls. I mean, would you want to hear about the supply for our granaries or an amateur's retelling of the History of Adrestria instead? I'd completely bore you."
Felix shook his head lightly. "That honestly sounds interesting."
Sylvain perked up, he leaned forward a little closer across the table. His eyes were shining. "Really? No one wants to hear about that stuff."
"I'll lend an ear then."
They continued playing and talking through the night. It was nice; Sylvain has always been a talented conversationalist, but it was usually buried under stale compliments.
The next morning, Sylvain was in a strangely good mood. He was whistling as he walked to the lunch hall. Felix wondered what had cheered him up so much. He hadn't even unloaded his troubles onto Felix's cat-self. Maybe being able to showcase his strengths to Felix made him feel better. There was only one way to find out.
***
Over the next few weeks, Felix invited Sylvain to play board games, go over old military treatise and train with him. He always seemed happier afterwards. Maybe he was just lonely. It was an odd thought, given that Sylvain was often surrounded by people.
It was nice to dine with Sylvain too: he would still chatter and bring up the happenings and going-ons of the monastery, but Felix didn't mind. He'd learnt the hard way that keeping up with gossip was important for someone in command.
Talking with Sylvain had always been easy, even when he was set on talking about shallow things. He did have good taste in relaxing activities. Felix almost missed going to the theatre with them. The local theatre at Garreg Mach had long closed down.
He tried his best to come up with exercises to make Sylvain feel appreciated. Felix would approach him and voice them awkwardly. Sylvain almost always accepted with a cheerful smile that warmed the cockles of Felix's heart.
Sylvain almost never brought up his conquests when they talked anymore; this inconveniently helped Felix nurse his life-long crush on him. If he ignored the context of their time together, he could almost pretend that he was the one who Sylvain was currently dating.
Well, until Sylvain shattered the illusion by trying to get his help to pick up girls again. He hadn't asked for a while, but Felix could remember the burn from every time he had asked before.
It shouldn't have been a surprise; Sylvain had abstained from asking him for weeks already. It was practically a new record.
“Hey, Fe. I was wondering if you want to go out to town with me today? The professor asked me to pick up some supplies.”
It hurt a little. After all the time that they've spent together, Felix thought that Sylvain wouldn't be shameless enough to ask him to be his wingman again. It was a common request before they started their bonding sessions; Sylvain used to always ask jubilantly and jokingly and Felix would always ruthlessly reject him. It was practically a reflex now.
Felix scoffed. “You don’t have to cook up an elaborate excuse to get me to help you to pick up girls. I’m not going to go.”
“That’s not what I wanted--”
Felix stood up from the table. “I’m going to go train. Find me if you want to get some real work done.”
***
Felix once again went to their usual spot after he did his rounds of the monastery. Sure enough, Sylvain was there waiting. He seemed to be star-gazing.
“Hey, kitty,” he said. His brows were pinched; he seemed to be troubled. “It’s nice to see a friendly face.”
He reached out to pat Felix, and Felix moved closer to accommodate him. It felt nice; Sylvain's warm, big hands were surprisingly good at petting. He started purring. It seemed to cheer Sylvain up a little; his body language became a little more relaxed.
“So, the guy I liked rejected me again today. I don’t know why I’m surprised. He’s always been kinda prickly, y’know. But we've been spending more time together lately. I thought he wouldn’t mind going out with me. It's hard to read him.”
Sylvain liked guys? Felix stopped purring and stiffened up. Sylvain didn’t really notice. He was probably too absorbed in his thoughts.
"I try so hard to get his attention, but no matter what I do he never notices and just assumes the worst of me."
Felix didn't like the sound of that. Sylvain has always had a bad taste in people. Maybe he had fallen in love with another asshole who didn't appreciate him. He peered up through Sylvain's fingers and meowed. It earned him a small smile from Sylvain.
"I've tried to move on, y'know? It was easier when he wasn't around all the time, but it's hard for me to forget about him when he's right there in front of me. I can’t look away from him.."
So it was someone Sylvain has known for a while then-- maybe it was an old classmate? Or maybe it was one of the Knights of Seiros.
Felix could feel the flames of jealousy in his belly. It was one thing to accept that Sylvain wasn't interested in him because he wasn't interested in guys. It was another to know that Sylvain liked men fine-- but that there was just something about Felix that wasn't good enough. Intellectually, he knew Sylvain didn’t owe him a thing, but that didn’t mean it didn’t sting… and that he didn’t need time to process that.
He moodily nipped at Sylvain's fingers gently, causing him to yelp and let Felix go.
Taking advantage of the moment, Felix ran far, far away.
***
It wasn't a broken heart. Felix was used to having Sylvain looking at other people.
But it still stung.
He tried to tell himself that it didn't hurt more now just because he had been spending more time with Sylvain. It was a lie. Inevitably, through all their late-night talks, Felix occasionally pretended that their friendship was more than it was.
Felix didn't think it was possible for him to like Sylvain even more… but he was clearly mistaken.
As much as he hated to admit it, he needed space. He needed to forget his feelings for Sylvain. Somehow. It was a difficult task consideringly that he couldn't do so after five years of Sylvain effectively being absent for his life. But he didn't have a choice. If he distanced himself now, it would finally dull the pain.
He avoided Sylvain with the tenacity of a crow chasing a coin. He would practice at the training grounds at odd hours in the day and would only go to the library or the sauna-- both were Sylvain's regular haunts-- when he knew Sylvain was eating or otherwise occupied. He never went to the war room unless there was a meeting. He timed his wake-up times and evenings so he wouldn't have to run into him in front of their rooms. Occasionally he slept in the rooms of former students who hadn't returned to Garreg Mach. His routes as a cat changed drastically. Felix considered visiting him as a cat, but he quickly decided against it. He'd cave immediately once reminded of the feeling of Sylvain's calloused fingers in his fur.
It worked. He barely saw Sylvain. It was clear that Sylvain knew exactly what he was doing. After a few days, he learnt that it was pointless to approach Felix and instead stared at him mournfully from afar.
Sylvain didn't seem genuinely sad from the lack of Felix's presence. There were no tears or confrontations. But he seemed more subdued and slower to follow his old habits of flirting and teasing others.
Felix missed him.
He thought it would be no big deal to be without him for a while-- he'd spent the majority of the past five years without Sylvain. But now, even a few weeks were difficult for him to bear.
***
Even though he avoided Sylvain in both of his forms, Felix still paraded around the monastery as a cat whenever he could.
He would regularly check on Sylvain from his hiding spot in the bushes. Surprisingly, Sylvain still occasionally went to their meeting spot, even weeks after Felix's absence.
There were plenty of black cats in the monastery though. Sylvain could go and talk to one of them if he was that lonely. It wouldn’t be any different.
He underestimated Sylvain's sleuthing skills though; he eventually traced Felix's new route through the monastery and lay in wait to ambush him. Sylvain crouched down and pinned Felix against the wall with a dead stare.
"So you're avoiding me too, huh?" Sylvain said wryly. "Just like Felix is…"
He sighed and ran his hands through his hair, tugging at it in frustration. It did messy things to Felix's heart. He didn't want to hurt Sylvain, but he had to look after himself first. In the end, it was for the good of both of them. Felix would eventually become a better friend if he wasn't beholden to his own cumbersome feelings.
Sylvain continued his monologuing out of habit. "I just don't know what to do, kitty. Everything was going so well; we were practically going on dates. I don't know what happened. Somehow this hurts more than when I thought I had no shot at all. I don't mind if he never likes me back, honestly. I just want Felix back in my life. I don't know how I managed these past few years without him by my side."
Felix's heart froze, his breathing stuttered like the arms of a broken clock. Was he the man that Sylvain liked?? Surely not…
Sylvain was hopeless at reading cat body language, so he continued to pet him.
"I'm glad you're still here though," said Sylvain with a grin that Felix sorely missed.
Ignoring Felix's aggravated mews, Sylvain picked him up and tried to hug him, even going so far as to plop a kiss on his head.
Felix couldn't take the embarrassment surging to his face. With a squawk, he twisted his way out of Sylvain's arms and unfortunately his distress triggered his transformation.
With a surge of magic, he felt his body morph and elongate. His features shifted slowly back into his human skin. He lay there on the ground, scowling and swearing.
Seeing Sylvain's shocked expression, he tried to trigger the transformation back, but Sylvain's hand shot out and grabbed his arm mid-transformation, halting it.
Felix looked up, expression open and vulnerable. He wanted nothing more than to run away.
"Let go," he said tersely.
Sylvain smiled, all teeth. "I'm not letting go. Care to explain, Fe?"
Felix's eyelids shuttered and he trembled. He fitfully yanked his arm back but to no avail.
He rebelliously looked to the side, unwilling to face Sylvain. "What's there to explain?"
Sylvain gently notched his fingers under Felix's chin and nudged his face to look at his. Felix defiantly stared back into Sylvain's dark eyes.
Sylvain looked at him with such enmity it shook him to the bone. "Why were you spying on me? Were you laughing at my foolishness? My feelings? I thought I could trust you, Fe."
"I'm sorry," said Felix. The fraying edges of despair were starting to catch up to him. Was this really how he would lose Sylvain? "I didn't mean to breach your trust. I just thought I could help you by lending an ear."
"Listening to me under false pretences isn't helping," said Sylvain angrily. "Fuck, and now you know. Is that why you were avoiding me? Were you that disgusted by my feelings?"
"I didn't know. I thought you liked someone else," said Felix numbly.
"What? With how mercilessly I was throwing myself at you?" His mouth twisted crookedly. "I find that hard to believe."
That remark set off Felix's fire. "Throwing yourself at me? How? By flirting with other people? By making me be your wingman?"
"I haven't done any of that in a long time," said Sylvain solemnly. "And you're a fool if you think that ever meant anything."
"How was I supposed to know? You're a liar, Sylvain. You're only ever honest when you think that no one is listening."
Sylvain dropped to his knees and became eye-level with Felix.
The furrow of Sylvain's brows intensified, and his big, brown eyes started to look clear and watery. "I didn't know how to be honest with you, Fe. I kept feeling like you pushing me away. Constantly. I didn't want to risk it."
"Did you never think that I wouldn't let your feelings affect our friendship?" asked Felix. "I wouldn't do that to you."
"Didn't you? You started avoiding me when you found out I liked you," Sylvain protested. His voice sounded strained and flustered. Frustrated tears started emerging from his eyes.
"I told you already, I thought you liked someone else!" said Felix. Then quieter, he murmured, "You were breaking my heart because I thought you loved someone else."
Sylvain looked at him like he'd lifted a veil from his eyes. "Wait, you-- you actually like me?"
"I do. What a pair of fools we make."
Sylvain pulled him into a hug and laughed hoarsely. "Fuck, I must be dreaming."
From where his face was buried in Sylvain's shoulder, Felix turned and said, "I can pinch you if you'd like."
"No, that's fine," said Sylvain with a chuckle.
Felix pulled back and looked solemnly in Sylvain's eyes. "Look, if you need to talk to someone, I can always turn back into a cat and--"
Sylvain smiled wryly. "That won't be necessary. I can just talk to the human you about my troubles, can't I? You haven't judged me because of anything I've shared, have you?"
"Of course I haven't, said Felix sharply. Then, in a softer tone, he said, "I'm happy to hear anything you need to say. I'm… here for you. I care about you."
Sylvain pulled him into another hug, this time somehow managing to tuck his head under Felix's chin. "Aw Felix! I care about you too. You're pawsitively purrfect!"
Felix huffed and buried his nose into Sylvain's hair. "If those words leave your mouth again, I'm going to break up with you."
"No need to be so catty, Fe!"
Felix sighed, but his heart was jubilant and happy. "Don't give me attitude."
"Did you mean… cattitude?" asked Sylvain slyly.
Felix sighed and gave in. "You've got to be kitten me."
"Aw, Fe!" Sylvain exclaimed with delight.
Felix smiled into Sylvain's shoulder. He would gladly take a lifetime of cat puns if it meant a happy life together with Sylvain.