May. 14th, 2013

bitteraftertaste: (whispering like it's a secret)
[Vesper's sitting on a couch in her room - which, for anyone who hasn't seen it, is a very swanky hotel room, which looks somewhere between lived in and waiting for the next guest to come visit, because she's a bit of a neat freak - and looks a little contemplative, like she finds the idea of talking about this to everyone a little ridiculous, which... she does, really.]

When I was about seven, my parents bought me a cat. She was just a cat, nothing special, but she was my closest friend up until she passed away while I was at university.

Maybe that's a bit pathetic. [There's... a lot more to this story than she's letting on, but she's certainly not someone who 1. enjoys revisiting some of the crappier things about her life or 2. feels like sharing much about herself with anyone, so that's a story that's better saved for a truth flood.

Or not at all, really, but we all know how this place works.]
But I seriously doubt I'm the only one here who's ever felt like a pet understands them better than most people do. She always seemed to know when I wasn't feeling particularly well, and maybe that's just her wanting something warm to sit with, but I still appreciated having some company when I was feeling low.

Anyway, [Her smile isn't really self-depreciating, but she definitely looks like she thinks it's a little silly that she's telling you all this.] I suppose I was just feeling nostalgic. So if anyone else has any pet stories they feel up to sharing, I certainly wouldn't mind listening.

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