Author's note: I think Robin's not the only one enjoying this far too much. Time taken to write this, ten minutes.
Silkie didn't like it. Not one bit. Never ever.
It was bad enough that the two of them shared the same room now and often kicked him out for whatever wrestling they designed to do beneath the sheets, even if he was really quiet and didn't move, the interloper still plucked him from his warm spot and scooted him out the door.
Without his favourite can too, the sod. And no amount of whining and scratching on the door would open it so he could have his can back.
No. It wasn't that he had to share his beloved's lap with the interloper, often finding that smelly, sticky, soot coloured hair on her lap when it was Silkie's turn. Silkie's turn, darn you soot coloured interloper who didn't respect boundaries. Boundaries being Silkie's beloved was his and no one else's. Stupid interloper.
Nor was it that Silkie's toys were not allowed to be spread across the floor anymore. And the little slobbered on presents he'd so lovingly left beneath his beloved's pillow that was now bound to get him yelled at.
And it wasn't even that Silkie couldn't do anything around his room anymore without getting yelled at, not even eat those deliciously tasty black boots by the door, or chew holes in those scrumptious green pants.
No. It was the fact that the interloper had started to wear his beloved's clothes. And a red wig. And her shoes!
And, Silkie had still been dumped on the floor when he tried to take his rightful place on the red head's lap.
It was such a shame it was the wrong red head.
Wasn't Silkie's fault he was feeling sick and puked up Robin's half eaten boot all over Robin's new girly shoes. Well, Robin shouldn't have grabbed him so hard. It's his fault wearing Starfire's clothes, after all.
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