Sensing distress, Pippi hops down from the swing when April gets close enough and follows at a respectful distance as she heads inside. 

She heads directly for Pippi's couch and flops onto it.

"I could really do with some fuzzy snuggles right about now."

Luckily for April, even though Pippi cannot understand human language, Pippi is always up for fuzzy snuggles, and April flopping on Pippi's couch is a rather clear signal. She hops up onto the couch, climbs into the waiting lap, makes biscuits on her legs, and settles in. 

Pet pet pet siiiiiiiiiiiiigh pet pet pet.

"Nothing more embarrassing than discovering at your seven-year high school reunion that you still have a lot of feelings about your shitty high school ex."

Pippi lays in April's lap and continues to allow herself to be pet. She certainly cannot understand what April is saying, but she can at least provide comfort by being warm and pettable, which is very in keeping with what normal cats would be doing here too. Not that she isn't a normal cat.  

"Ugh. I shouldn't dwell," she says, dwelling.

Pippi gives her thigh a nuzzle with her nose. 

"...awww." Pet pet pet. "Thanks, Pippi."

She flops her head back against the back of the couch and closes her eyes.

"Man, the thing is—I'd apologize for burdening you with my nearly decade-old personal drama but you don't speak English so I think you'll be fine—like, I broke up with Sean because he scared me and I didn't want to be dating someone who scared me. And he was really nice about it? Our first reunion he went out of his way not to get between me and the door. And it's been long enough that he doesn't scare me nearly as much anymore, and... he's still going out of his way not to get between me and a door? And so now I'm like. Forced to contend with the fact that he is being really nice to me in a way I really appreciate, for no reason except to be nice to me, which is a pretty rare quality in my experience. But also we have both grown up a little in the past seven years and I don't even know if he'd want to hang out again. But maybe I want to hang out again. Except that he still kind of scares me. Ugh. Whatever. Feelings are dumb."

Pippi, as April just said, cannot understand English, and so responds to her roommate's feelings by meowing gently, stretching, and turning over a little so April can get at another angle of her to pet. The petting does seem to be helping. 

The petting is definitely helping.

Oh good. And if Pippi purrs a little at being pet, does that help too?

Very much so.

Well then Pippi will lie there being pet and purring for as long as April needs. 

Eventually she'll yawn and give Pippi a nudge. "I should make dinner. And then put off texting Sean indefinitely because I'm a coward. But first, dinner."

Pippi is very cozy, and would prefer to continue being pet, but by now knows that the nudge means no more pets are forthcoming. She stretches, rubs herself against April's legs, and hops down off of her lap so she can get up. 

Perhaps the cat's thwarted desire for coziness can be soothed with bacon.

Pippi is happy to accept bacon as a substitute for petting and other forms of coziness. Bacon is good, and April is good, and Pippi is very happy to have ended up here with her. Her life is good.