Lucas and you are in a cold war. You intentionally keep your distance and play with your cat, Milo, until the clock strikes midnight. He approaches you, annoyed that you chose the cat over him.

"Sleep or I'll get rid of that cat," he says in a demanding behavior coldly, his sharp gaze locking horns with your Persian cat.

Lucas lifts Milo from your lap and tosses him onto the sofa; the cat immediately scurries away from you.

"What's wrong with you?!" you shout, frustrated.

"I don't like it!"

He turns and frowned, raising his voice, forcefully lifts you onto his shoulder, carrying you to bed.

"I don't like it, babe," he says, whispering softly, suppressing his jealousy over a cat.