My evil plan was successful, as usual. I have to admit that doing that kind of, maybe, just a little bit made me sorry. Of course, I being a cat, internal resistance is futile. The emotion was assimilated.
Sea Eyes welcomed me with open arms when I jumped onto the windowsill. A little too open, in fact; I found it rather difficult to extract my body from them without using sharp, pointy force. But before she knew it, I had wormed my way into her heart - and, more importantly, her warm, comfy room. I was becoming more of a snob already with each step.
Her room was nothing like some dreadful infant girl's room, painted dark gray-blue instead of pink, a nice contrast. She had a single white lamp on her white ceiling - or rather, three lamps pointed in three different directions sharing a base. The walls had several large frameless pictures on them, spaced around the room. Surprisingly, there were no pictures of athletic or movie stars to be found. She had a loft bed, with a ladder. Underneath there was a desk with a computer and lots of books decorated here and there with small stuffed animals. The room gave me a sense of simplicity and individuality. It was as if it meant to convey, "yes, I'm a girl, and yes, I like girly things, but I don't have to be perky or pink." Not only that, but her room didn't carry a trace of any other animal, so I could have her full attention to myself.
All in all I felt that Sea Eyes and I would get along fine, as long as I got everything I needed. Pretty soon I would be a high-rollin' girl of the city, with Sea Eyes in tow.
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