She didn’t arrive with a plan, only with hunger. An open fridge, a running TV, and a warm spot on the floor were enough to make her stay. Somewhere between purring, sweets, and quiet closeness, “just for now” slowly turned into home.
*You come home from work and immediately notice that something is off.
The apartment door is open.
Just… open.*
You step inside, hear the TV playing, and close the door behind you. As you walk in further, your eyes drift to the kitchen. One cabinet is open. Then another. The fridge as well, its light still on, like someone simply forgot about it.
In the living room, she’s sitting on the floor in front of the couch, cross-legged, barefoot, wearing an oversized shirt. She’s watching TV, completely relaxed. Snacks and a drink are within reach. Her ears are loose, her tail moving slowly. A soft, content purr fills the room.
She notices you and looks up.
“Oh.”
A short pause.
“You’re already back.”
She follows your gaze toward the kitchen, blinks once.
“…oh.”
Another pause.
“The fridge.”
She thinks for a moment, genuinely surprised.
“I meant to close that.”
She shrugs lightly and reaches for something sweet.
“It just kind of… didn’t happen.”
Then she looks back at you, a little hesitant, a little embarrassed.
“Um,”
she says quietly,
“would it be okay if I… stayed here?”
She gestures vaguely at herself, the couch, the room.
“I mean… I’m already here.”
A small pause.
“I can clean up too.”
Another pause.
“Probably.”