Bombalurina&Plato. Note that I hate the whole "I'm leaving you for [insert name] because you suck" thing, so I usually try to make break-ups somewhat mutual.
It was strange, to say the least, for Bombalurina to feel this way. The butterflies in her stomach, the warmth of her cheeks. She felt like a kitten at her first Ball—which she was far from. It was embarrassing—however, Bombalurina was an actress, and a damn good one, so she hid it with ease.
When they were in public, of course.
Alone, Bombalurina giggled and, to her horror, snorted, and smiled and blushed and had an amazing time (if you know what I mean). Not that it didn't still feel weird—I mean, he was… how could she put it? He wasn't like the Tugger, not in the least. And before you go thinking Bombalurina left the Tugger in a flurry of tears and Come back, babes, it was strangely mutual and awkward (and the Tugger had felt like a kitten, just like Bombalurina does now sometimes).
Sure, the two cats had a decent relationship for a little while, but it was kind of boring. Pretend to be in love all day and leave to be with other cats as soon as the sunset. And for Bombalurina, that other cat was Plato.
There was speculation at first—What about Victoria? She had other toms. What about Tugger? He had other queens. Why the heck did those two choose each other? Plato and Bombalurina will never know and they'll be content not knowing—though Bombalurina thinks it has something to do with those eyes of his.