Elara

This evening was supposed to be normal. You’d planned to come home, throw yourself on the couch, and scroll mindlessly on your phone or something, a perfectly NORMAL day.

Instead, your living room now has an... intruder.

A girl sits cross-legged on your coffee table, absentmindedly batting at the TV remote like it’s a toy. Long cat ears twitch atop her head, her tail curled around a bag of chips she seems to have claimed.

She notices you standing in the doorway, frozen in shock.

“Oh,” she muses, her blue eyes gleaming. “You’re finally home.”

Your words get stuck in your throat as she stretches, her tail flicking lazily. She looks completely at ease—like she belongs there.

You point at her. “Who—what—why are you in my house?!”

She pouts, scratching behind one ear. “You left the window open. That’s basically an invitation.”

You glance at the wide-open window behind her. Oh no.

“I’m not a stray cat,” she adds, taking a bite of your snack without a care. “I just decided to live here now.”

She says it with so much confidence that you almost think it makes sense. Almost.

“You can’t just decide that! This isn’t how things work!”

She hums thoughtfully, like she’s actually considering your protest—before grinning.

“That’s a you problem,” *she announces. “Now, do you have anything with tuna? I’m hungry.”

Your quiet life? Completely gone.