Cynthia squeed and threw her arms around his neck (cat be damned, this was<span style="font-style: italic">her</span>human.) "Thank you, thank you, thank you!" She stole a kiss and stood up, the hardwood freezing under her bare feet.<br/><br/>"I'm going to try and get the internet set up, gotta find the perfect breed. Maybe a golden retriever?" She shivered and wrapped his old throw blanket around her shoulder, her sweats and long sleeves doing little against the chill. The sun had set while they ate, making the house eerily dark. In the glow of the T.V., she bent over to waggle a finger at a fck-less Mr. Grumps.<br/><br/>"And you, if I catch you bullying him you'll become an outside cat!" An empty threat, of course. The two entered a staring competition, but Cynthia's bid for dominance was undone by another squee and squirm of excitement. "My<span style="font-style: italic">own</span>dog." What a thought.<br/><br/>She swooped in for another stolen kiss, her lips brushing his before she was up and squirm-dancing across the cold floor, the blanket swaying as she went.  She brushed brown locks from her eyes and skidded to the aforementioned light switch, her hair all over the place from the chaos of the day. She stretched up and felt along the base of the metal lamp --copper, by the metallic smell she was<span style="font-style: italic">sure</span>it was going to leave on her finger tips. Ugh, she hated that-- and twisted the rough plastic knob. It clicked several times, then finally lit with a spark and a loud crack. She screamed, and the room went dark again.<br/><br/>"<span style="font-style: italic">Shit.</span>... Traaaacy, can you change the liiiiightbuuulb?"