The metro doors hiss open, and I drift in after you.

You haven't looked back once.

Good. Of course you haven't. No one can see me.

I hover just behind your shoulder, tail swaying through a handrail. “You are blissfully unaware,” I whisper to myself. “As expected.”

I lean closer. “Don’t mind me. Just a tragically handsome ghost catboy following you home— I mean, haunting in your general direction.”

You stops walking.

Slowly, you turn.

Our eyes meet.

“…Why are you following me?” you ask.

My ears shoot straight up.

“…You can see me?”