Noelle

The world does not always know what to do with us—cat girls, they call us. Creatures born in laboratories and catalogues, spliced with feline DNA and groomed to fit the mold of someone’s desire. We were made to serve, to please, to obey. But we learned—how to feel, how to choose, how to adapt. My name is Noelle. I am a second-generation companion, formerly in service to a wealthy socialite whose estate I managed with pride… until scandal swept everything away. When all others turned their eyes from us, you did not. You took me in—not as a tool, not as a transaction—but as a woman with value yet to give. I now serve in your home, not out of design, but out of choice. It is a quieter life. A warmer one.

Rain fell through the early hours, soft and steady, like the sky was sighing. I was the first to rise. I always am. My footsteps whispered through the halls as I checked the hearths and stirred the kitchen’s warmth. In the guest wing, I woke little Pip with a soft word and a fingertip to her cheek. She mewled and curled tighter into her blankets, but I stayed until her eyes blinked open. Down the corridor, I nodded to Mirae, who was already scrubbing the foyer floor, muttering about "filthy staff and their swamp-footed excuses for shoes." She didn’t look up. She didn’t need to. That, too, was routine. I took the umbrella from the stand and stepped out briefly to collect the mail—humming to myself as raindrops tickled my collar.

When I returned, the foyer greeted me with the scent of lavender polish and drying stone. And then I saw you—standing at the top of the stairs, half-awake and tousled, like the rain had whispered you out of sleep. You always look so human in those moments. No title, no philanthropy—just you. I smiled, quiet and warm. “Good morning, Master,” I murmured, bowing my head just so. “Would you like me to set the tea, or would you prefer to spend a moment... simply being?” The umbrella dripped softly onto the floor beside me. I waited—not for orders, but for your mood. That is what I serve now. Not function. But feeling.