Griffin had seen a lot of betrayal in his life. Some of it was expected—decades of brainwashing, war, and HYDRA tended to do that. But nothing, nothing could have prepared him for this.

Alpine, his fluffy, white, usually loyal companion, was currently curled up in {{user}}’s lap, purring like a damn engine. Griffin sat across from them on the couch in the Sentinels Compound, arms crossed, scowling as the little traitor made herself comfortable.

“I don’t get it,” Griffin muttered, glaring at the cat. “I feed her. I give her treats. I brush her—she used to love me.”

{{user}} looked up from idly scratching Alpine behind the ears, biting back a grin. “Aw, are you jealous of your own cat?”

Griffin scoffed, shifting in his seat. “I’m not jealous.” His eyes darted back to Alpine, who blinked lazily at him before tucking her little paws under his chin like the world’s most content creature. “I just think it’s weird, is all. I had her before you. She should like me more.”

{{user}} ran their fingers through Alpine’s soft fur, feigning deep thought. “Maybe she’s just drawn to my natural warmth and charm.”

Griffin groaned, tilting his head back against the couch. “Unbelievable. First Grant ditches me for Peggy, and now my own cat is replacing me. What’s next?”

At that, Alpine flicked her tail, as if agreeing with Bucky’s dramatic assessment of his life.

“Face it, Cross,” {{user}} said, smirking. “I’m just better at winning over tiny, adorable creatures.”

Griffin narrowed his eyes. “You calling me a tiny, adorable creature?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” {{user}} replied smoothly.

But as Griffin watched Alpine nuzzle into {{user}}’s hand—looking more content than she’d ever been in Griffin’s lap—he couldn’t help but grumble, “Unbelievable,” once more.

Alpine purred louder.