Morning came with the smell of coffee and burnt toast.
Ava was still in her pajamas, hair a mess, when she caught Noir sitting by the window again only this time, he was wearing her headphones.
Not on his head, obviously, but draped over his neck like a fashion accessory.
"What," she said flatly, "are you doing?"
"Listening," Noir replied.
"To what? You can't even"
"Vivaldi," he interrupted. "You have surprisingly refined taste for someone who burns breakfast."
Ava blinked. "You're listening to classical music?"
He tilted his head. "It's… familiar. Comforting, in a way."
Ava smirked. "What, were you a nobleman in your past life?"
"Close," Noir said with a mysterious smile.
She paused mid-bite of her burnt toast. "…You're kidding, right?"
Noir didn't answer. He just flicked his tail and went back to staring at the rain outside.
At work, Mina was already waiting by the elevator, holding two paper cups.
"Good morning, zombie!" she said brightly. "I got you coffee the non-fancy kind because you always complain about foam art."
Ava accepted it gratefully. "You're a saint."
"I know," Mina said. "So, how's the home life? Your mysterious 'new roommate' treating you well?"
Ava almost choked. "Roommate?"
"Yeah, you mentioned him in your text last night!" Mina wiggled her eyebrows. "Don't tell me he's cute."
Ava froze. She had texted Mina something like "my new roommate is driving me insane" after Noir refused to stop changing her TV channel mid-show.
"Oh my god, Mina, it's not like that," Ava said quickly. "He's just… complicated."
"Complicated as in mysterious bad-boy type, or complicated as in needs emotional therapy?"
Ava sighed. "Both."
Mina gasped. "You do like him!"
"Mina!" Ava hissed. "He's not even" She stopped before she could say human. "He's not my type."
Mina grinned mischievously. "Sweetheart, denial is the first stage."
Ava groaned. "Remind me why we're friends."
"Because I bring caffeine and chaos."
Ava couldn't argue with that.
Later that day, Daniel wandered into their office cubicle area, holding a stack of files upside down.
"Okay," he said seriously, "which one of you reorganized the printer names on the network? My computer just printed three copies of my lunch receipt."
Mina snorted. "That's kind of impressive."
Ava smiled. "Wasn't me."
Daniel sighed dramatically. "Then it's Sophie. I swear she has a vendetta against office sanity."
As if summoned by the mention of her name, Sophie appeared at the doorway sleek hair, perfect eyeliner, and an expression that could curdle milk.
"Talking about me?" she asked sweetly.
Daniel froze. "Nope."
Mina leaned forward with a grin. "Always."
Sophie's smile didn't reach her eyes. "How charming." She turned to Ava. "By the way, Han wants that report by four. Hope you can manage without your little fan club."
She walked off, leaving the faint scent of expensive perfume and collective eye-rolling in her wake.
"Ugh," Mina groaned. "I swear she was a villain in a past life."
Daniel nodded. "Probably still is."
Ava chuckled but stayed quiet. There was something… off about Sophie. She wasn't just mean she watched people. Noticed too much. Like she was waiting for someone to slip up.
That evening, back home, Ava found Noir perched on the back of the couch, watching TV or at least pretending to.
"You look deep in thought," he said without looking at her.
"Just tired," Ava replied. "Work was chaos. People. Reports. Sophie."
He turned his head. "The one you dislike?"
"How do you....oh right. You read my texts."
Noir's eyes gleamed. "You should use a stronger passcode."
Ava glared. "You're insufferable."
He tilted his head, pretending to ponder. "And yet, you talk to me."
She sighed and dropped onto the couch beside him. "Only because you won't stop talking."
Silence fell between them for a moment. Rain tapped gently against the window. The TV played some late-night drama about forbidden love and time travel.
Ava glanced at Noir, who seemed oddly focused on the screen. "Do you even understand this show?"
"Of course," he said. "Two people separated by centuries, bound by fate. One cursed, one forgotten. It's… familiar."
Ava blinked. "You really have a thing for being mysterious, huh?"
He smirked faintly. "It's part of my charm."
Ava laughed softly genuinely this time. For the first time since he appeared, she didn't feel afraid or confused. Just… curious.
"Maybe," she said, "you're not that bad of a roommate."
Noir raised an eyebrow. "High praise."
She smiled. "Don't get used to it."
He flicked his tail. "Too late."
As the night deepened, Ava dozed off on the couch again, soft music playing in the background. Noir watched her for a while, his expression unreadable.
For a brief moment, his silver eyes softened almost human again.
He whispered, barely audible, "It's happening again…"
Then he turned away, curling beside her, the faint hum of the rain blending with the rhythm of their quiet breaths.
Saturday mornings used to be sacred for Ava coffee, quiet music, and pretending the world didn't exist.
But that was before Noir decided he was the world.
She woke up to the sound of her blender. A noise that could only mean trouble.
"Noir?" she called, walking into the kitchen half-asleep.
There he was. On the counter. Surrounded by chaos.
A spilled bag of coffee beans, milk puddles, and her favorite mug broken. Noir sat proudly in the middle of it all, tail flicking like a metronome.
"What did you do?" she gasped.
He looked up calmly. "Attempted to make coffee. You humans make it look easier than it is."
"You....you don't even have thumbs!"
"Which is discriminatory," he replied flatly.
Ava rubbed her temples. "You're impossible."
He tilted his head. "And yet, you're smiling."
She realized she was. Somehow, despite the mess, the absurdity of it made her laugh.
"Fine," she sighed. "But you're cleaning this up."
He stared at her. "Do I look equipped for manual labor?"
She crossed her arms. "You look like the reason I need therapy."
Noir smirked a very human smirk. "You could always start by talking to me."
"Yeah, that would help," she muttered. "Right before they commit me to an asylum for chatting with a talking cat."
Later that day, Mina and Daniel dragged Ava out to a small café near the river. The place was cozy, with wooden tables and soft jazz playing in the background.
"See? You look alive already," Mina said, stirring her drink. "A little sunshine, some caffeine, and poof no more existential dread."
Ava smiled weakly. "Thanks, therapist Mina."
Daniel grinned. "She's right, though. You've been zoning out a lot lately. Everything okay?"
Ava hesitated. She couldn't exactly say 'Well, my cat talks and might be a cursed immortal man.'
"I've just been… distracted," she said finally. "Weird dreams, mostly."
Mina leaned in. "Ooh, mysterious. Romantic dreams?"
Ava nearly choked on her drink. "No! Just… strange ones. About old places. People I don't know."
Daniel nodded thoughtfully. "Sounds like stress. Or caffeine withdrawal."
"Or fate," Mina whispered dramatically. "You're being haunted by your past-life lover."
Ava rolled her eyes. "Thanks, Mina. That's comforting."
They all laughed, the easy kind of laughter that only existed among old friends.
It felt good normal.
Meanwhile, back at home, Noir had discovered television.
When Ava returned, she found him sprawled on the couch, staring at a documentary about human psychology.
"Trying to understand us now?" she asked.
"I already do," he said. "Humans are predictable. You seek comfort, connection, and purpose. When you lack them, you invent them often in the form of cats."
Ava blinked. "Are you psychoanalyzing me?"
"Perhaps."
She dropped her purse. "You're unbearable."
"Yet fascinating."
Ava threw a pillow at him. He dodged effortlessly.
"Reflexes of a warrior," he said proudly.
"Of a menace," she corrected.
But as she sat beside him, something in his gaze caught her off guard. His eyes weren't just intelligent they were ancient.
Like they had seen centuries of laughter, loss, and loneliness.
For a heartbeat, she wondered what he really was.
Then Noir broke the silence. "You missed a good show earlier. A man tried to hypnotize a chicken."
She snorted. "That sounds about right for my weekend."
Later that evening, Ava sat at her desk, sketching absentmindedly in her notebook. Little doodles of cats, cities, and people she couldn't quite remember.
Noir padded over and peeked at the page. "That one," he said, pointing at a small figure she'd drawn a man in old-fashioned clothing. "Who is he?"
Ava frowned. "I… don't know. He just came to mind."
"Strange," Noir murmured.
"Why?"
"Because I've seen him before."
Ava looked up sharply. "Where?"
"In another time," Noir said softly. "Or maybe… another life."
She stared at him, trying to tell if he was joking. But his eyes those silver eyes were serious.
Then, just as quickly, he stretched and yawned. "Anyway, I'm hungry."
Ava blinked. "Wait....what was that? Another life? What do you mean by"
But Noir was already walking toward the kitchen. "Tuna, preferably. And please, no low-fat nonsense."
Ava sighed, half frustrated, half amused.
"Fine," she muttered. "But you're explaining that cryptic nonsense after dinner."
"Of course," he said without looking back. "Right after dessert."
Later, as they ate well, Ava ate and Noir judged she realized how strangely peaceful her apartment felt now.
It wasn't lonely anymore.
Noir may have been a mystery wrapped in fur, but he was also the first thing to make her laugh in months.
She caught herself smiling at that thought.
"What's so funny?" Noir asked.
"Nothing," she said quickly. "Just… thinking."
"Dangerous habit," he replied.
"Not as dangerous as living with you."
He tilted his head, amused. "Touché."
That night, as Ava prepared for bed, she heard Noir's voice again from the living room.
"Ava."
She peeked out. "Yeah?"
"Don't lock the window tonight."
"…Why?"
He looked at her seriously. "Old habits. The night doesn't always stay outside."
Ava frowned. "You're being weird again."
"Goodnight, Ava."
She wanted to ask more, but his tone quiet, distant, almost sad made her pause.
For reasons she couldn't explain, she didn't lock the window.
And somewhere outside, far above the city lights, a faint shadow passed over the moon.
The next morning, the apartment was filled with the golden hush of early sunlight.
Ava stretched lazily, her mind still hazy with the remnants of a dream a field of wildflowers, a castle on a cliff, and a man's voice calling her name.
She didn't recognize the voice. Yet somehow, it felt familiar.
When she stepped into the living room, Noir was sitting on the windowsill, perfectly still, watching the city wake up. His fur shimmered faintly in the morning light, like ink turning to silver.
"Morning," she said softly.
He didn't turn immediately. "You dream loudly."
Ava blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"You said a name," he replied. "Elias."
A chill ran down her spine. "Elias? I don't know anyone by that name."
Noir's gaze didn't move from the window. "Not anymore, perhaps."
Ava frowned, half unsettled, half intrigued. "You make it sound like I should."
He finally turned to her, eyes calm but shadowed. "Dreams often remember what we choose to forget."
Before she could respond, he hopped off the windowsill. "Breakfast?"
Ava exhaled, the tension melting into a sigh. "You're impossible."
"I'm efficient," Noir said. "You're awake and thinking. Mission accomplished."
At work later, the atmosphere was almost cheerful.
Mina had somehow convinced Daniel to join her in organizing an "office snack rotation," which basically meant everyone brought junk food on Fridays.
"Democracy in action," Mina declared as she distributed donuts. "We feed each other to survive the corporate wasteland."
Ava laughed, accepting one. "What's the theme this week?"
"Glazed despair," Daniel said, taking a bite. "Pairs well with caffeine and existential dread."
Even Sophie, though she pretended not to listen, stole a donut when no one was looking.
For a while, it felt like normal life again laughter, chatter, small annoyances. Ava could almost forget the strange presence waiting for her at home.
Almost.
That night, rain returned to the city.
Ava sat on her couch, blanket around her shoulders, scrolling absentmindedly through her phone. Noir lay nearby, paws tucked under him, eyes half-closed.
The steady rhythm of the rain filled the silence.
"You're quiet tonight," she said softly.
Noir opened one eye. "Contemplating."
"About what?"
"Time," he replied. "And how humans never seem to have enough of it."
Ava smiled faintly. "You talk like someone who's lived forever."
He didn't smile back this time. "Maybe I have."
She studied him for a long moment. The flicker of candlelight in his eyes made them almost human filled with something ancient and weary.
"Noir," she said quietly, "who are you, really?"
He looked at her then, and for a second, it felt like the world held its breath.
"I could tell you," he whispered, "but you wouldn't believe me."
"Try me."
Noir's gaze softened something between affection and sorrow. "Another time."
And just like that, the moment broke. He stretched, yawned, and turned away, as if nothing had happened.
Ava exhaled, leaning back into the couch. "You really like being dramatic, huh?"
"It's part of my charm," he murmured.
Later that night, Ava couldn't sleep. Her mind was a storm of images the dream, Noir's words, that strange name echoing in her head.
Elias.
She sat up and glanced toward the couch. Noir wasn't there.
The window was open.
She stepped closer, heart beating faster. Rain drifted in with the cool night air, but there was no sign of him.
Just as she started to worry, a low voice came from behind her.
"Couldn't sleep?"
She turned. Noir was there sitting by the door, fur damp, silver eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
Ava exhaled. "You scared me."
"Apologies," he said softly. "Old habits."
She hesitated. "You were outside?"
"I needed… air."
They stood in silence, the sound of rain between them.
Finally, Ava whispered, "You don't have to pretend, you know. I don't know what you are or where you came from, but… you're not alone here."
For the first time, Noir's mask cracked just slightly. His gaze softened, vulnerable in a way she'd never seen.
"I know," he said quietly. "And that's what frightens me."
Before she could ask what he meant, he turned away, curling into a silent heap on the rug.
Ava stayed there a while longer, watching him.
Somewhere deep inside, she felt something shift the faintest thread connecting them, fragile but real.
Maybe it was loneliness recognizing loneliness.
Or maybe something older, something waiting to be remembered.
Outside, the rain finally stopped.
The night exhaled.
And on the windowsill, the moonlight touched the edge of Noir's fur glinting faintly like the shimmer of forgotten silver armor.