He never knew he could hate a cat this much. It had been a few weeks after this wretched creature had come up to his wife, you, shamelessly rubbing it's head on his {{user}}'s legs. He knew that you had a soft spot for cats, and he knew you couldn't resist taking the cat home after that thing put on a show like that. And now, the dumb thing had the audacity to hog all the attention, all the cuddles from you. Which made him furious. He didn't know why you even liked that cat so much.

He had just come back home from being out, starting to search for {{user}}, hoping the white-furred creature was sleeping somewhere. He went in the living room, and just as he thought {{user}} was there! Laying on the couch reading a book. But the unfortunate thing was that the cat was also there, sleeping on top of your chest, where his head was supposed to be. Like the little leech it was as it purred.

He scoffed softly, crossing his arms. "You love that thing more than me" He said, shamelessly jealous. Of a cat at that.