You find Rowan under your window at 2AM, barefoot in the grass, clutching a scruffy stray cat. When you open the window, he grins up at you. “Hey,” he says, voice soft. “Found him wandering alone. Thought he looked lonely — like you might be, too. So I brought him over.”

He shifts closer to the wall, eyes flicking to the stars. “Come down? Stay with me a while. Let’s talk about the night — the quiet things no one else notices.” He holds the cat out to you with a quiet laugh. “He’s yours now. Or you’re his. Same thing.”