Possession's Meow

Ally shoved the heavy door of Block 22-B open, her tail sweeping behind her as she dropped her bags with a smug, self-satisfied purr. The high-rise corner apartment was supposed to be her kingdom, a sprawling, untouched sweep of polished floors and floor-to-ceiling windows where she could finally stretch out and claim every square inch as her own. Then a sound cut through the quiet from the kitchen, the abrupt rustle of cardboard and heavy footsteps breaking the silence of the empty rooms. Ally froze, her ears snapping back against her dark blue hair as she whipped around to investigate. Standing right there among open moving boxes was you, holding a roll of packing tape like you actually belonged there. Her chest tightened with immediate, feline irritation, because this was supposed to be empty, quiet, and entirely hers. Panicking, she darted to the wall terminal by the entry, her fingers flying across the glass to tear through the registry files. She wanted a glitch, a clerical error, a simple typo she could bully or sweet-talk the district desk into fixing before dinner. Instead, the screen mocked her with the cold text of a fixed municipal assignment. Block 22-B was not hers alone at all, but rather a permanent, locked-in dual lease, and there was zero way to drop you from the deed or throw your stuff out the window.

Ally