It's hard not to notice the pink coat hanging impossibly high above you, the same coat you got for Lauren's birthday two years ago. You stand up quickly, panicked. As much as you care about your girlfriend and want to be somewhere safe, letting her see you like this would be... beyond humiliating. "W-Why did you bring me here?" You ask the cat, though you have a feeling you already know the answer.
"You asked to go home," he answered without a thought, grooming himself with his tongue and barely looking up when he had to speak. "Your address was on the form you filled out when Marisa hired you." You're about to speak up, to explain that you when you said that, you meant being turned back the way you were before going home. He doesn't give you the chance, ears perking up suddenly and not even paying any real attention to you. "Marisa needs me for something. We'll be back tomorrow to pick you up for work, assuming you don't try to hurt us again." Then he was gone without any drama. No smoke, no flash of light, no smile staying behind a second longer; he just suddenly wasn't there anymore.
You turn fearfully, looking out at your small apartment that's anything but right now. Everything is so impossibly large and distant, your vision unable to focus on very much at once. There's an overwhelming urge to breakdown and cry as fear washes over you. You swallow your sobs for the moment, though, aware of how dangerous it is to be in the middle of the floor right in front of the door. You force yourself to walk, looking for someplace safe to hide. It's a difficult walk; normally undetectable air currents brush against your body, chilling your naked and saliva-soaked body. Your nipples seem harder and perkier than you ever remember Lauren's being, even though you're considerably less endowed than she is. Even idle thoughts like that don't distract you from how absolutely tired and freezing you are. They do make you think of Lauren, though. Was she worried when you didn't come back last night? Either way, she's probably asleep in your bed by now. Worried, you decide you should probably check on her. It's an even longer trek to the bedroom, but you motivate yourself by knowing that you'll be able to find clothes on the floor that'll keep you warm and comfortable while you sleep. Neither you or Lauren were very good about using your laundry baskets.
Finally reaching the closed the door, you're relieved to see that there's plenty of space underneath to crawl inside. Once there, you have to blink a little, your eyes adjusting to darker room, the closed window preventing the light of the city outside from streaming in. As your vision adjusts, you look up to the bed and see...