Work Text:
“Where the fuck is that –Kitty!”
Valentino marched to the room, cigarette in one hand and a gun in the other.
He was late! From the gala! The very gala thrown for his honor! And where the fuck was his purse, that's what he would like to know. And on top of that this stupid black dress Velvette had made for him might look fabulous but also made it impossible to breathe.
Valentino was just about to yell for Kitty again -he needed something to shoot at–when he noticed a lump on the sofa.
Except it was not a lump. It was Angel.
Val stopped to look at his property for a second. Angel was not wearing any mascara but Val could still tell he had been crying. His puffy eyes were closed and all eight limbs tangled together. He was going to get one helluva cramp when he woke up.
Val was just about to turn around when he noticed one of his famous coats on the armrest. He had probably forgotten it there earlier that day.
He glanced around to see nobody was watching. Then he grabbed the coat.
Angel sighed when the warm fabric was wrapped around him, but didn't wake up. Val hesitated, then brushed some of his fur away from his face.
Well. Unhappy dancers sold badly anyway.
He straightened, turned around and left.