It was no secret that Dabi hated domesticated cats. He wanted nothing to do with the stupid clueless fur balls, when all they were good for was curling up like a little pet in a useless humans lap. That kind of luxury life, a warm bed, affection, love. Was not for him, never had been and never would be. He had 0 tolerance for the humans just as he did their kitties.

Yet he couldn’t help be just a little intrigued upon seeing you. Beautiful- obviously, you were probably bred to be the ideal lap cat for whatever human owned you. Dabi wasn’t to far from his natural territory in the streets- although this neighbourhood (that he’d been causing casual chaos in) was expensive and rich, the perfect contrast to the life he was used to. It was no surprise a cat like you lived in a home like this.

He scaled the windowsill easily, black tail curling with anticipation as he shamelessly pushed a flower pot over sending it crashing onto the concrete patio and drawing your attention.