Valentines Single's Dinner for Two

You walk into the your apartment and close the door behind you. The lights are dimmed and a faint sound drifts through the air. You make a mental note to pay your electricity.

A delicious aroma fills your senses. You stumble, blindly into the kitchen- narrowly avoiding falling to your doom via a stack of misplaced magazines. The plastic table is set for dinner. You sniff again, inhaling the fishy scent.

A light tap on your shoulder alerts you to another's presence. You turn and a fury paw swats at your face.

You have stumbled upon a Valentine's Single's Dinner for Two. Meow.

A tuna steak is set at your place. A half empty bottle of wine sits next to it uncorked. On the other side is a round dish. Fluffy is written on it in marker. A can of cat food in the center with a can opener laid delicately across.

You choose not to question how your cat managed to cook tuna, but cannot manage the can opener.

You are wise human.

You eat your dinner in a daze, trying not to gaze into the glowing eyes following your every move across the table. Finally, you finish your food. You rise to leave, only to find a paw on your wrist, stopping you. Claws sink slowly into your shirt as you freeze. Then you slowly sit back down. The claws retract.

It's time for dessert. The box confuses you for a moment. Pizza? But then you slowly open it and smell the sugar and butter. Perhaps being single isn't so bad after all. The message confuses you, but no matter, you're clearly out of your gourd. Might as well enjoy it.

Now where did you put that catnip?