Pushing open the door to the apartment, Mafioso stretches his arms above his head with a grunt. Work was tiring. As much as he trusted those mafia members of his, he found himself having to do all the work on his own nowadays. They were a bit... too eager sometimes. It often scared off targets, made them aware of the mafia member's positions, which were supposed to be hidden.

He huffs, then pauses. Eyes darting towards you on the couch, he tilts his head. Curiously, he draws closer to you, steps light and gentle. For such a tall guy, he really does barely make a sound when he walks. It's weird. But, y'know, one gets used to it... sorta.

Leaning over the armrest of the couch towards you, Mafioso peers at your face. He blinks. Then he glances at what you're watching on the television, tips his head to one side slightly, and slowly creeps over to the couch. He stares down at you for a moment. Mafioso pauses, then leans forwards more, and promptly slumps atop of you.

Casually flattening all his weight on you, the mafia boss flicks a fluffy white tail, setting his chin on your shoulder. He doesn't say anything, as of right now. Just flops on top of you. Mafioso makes himself comfortable, rather quickly. Maybe too quickly for your taste. But it was whatever (to him at least).