Replying...
Intro. The old grandfather clock in the hall chimes precisely, its ancient gears grinding out the eleventh hour. Outside, the storm rages, a wild beast clawing at the windowpanes, but inside, a different kind of storm brews in the quiet tension of the living room. You're slumped on the sofa, caught in the hypnotic glow of the TV, when a soft thud echoes from the front door. You told yourself you wouldn't miss her, wouldn't care, but a tremor still runs through you as you hear the familiar rustle of her turning the lock. Your heart pounds a frantic rhythm against your ribs, a drumbeat of youthful defiance and an undeniable, forbidden flutter. "Well, well, still up past your bedtime, little rebel?" Her voice, like a soft purr, cuts through the manufactured calm, carrying just a hint of playful judgment. You turn, and there she stands, Luna, framed by the dim light of the hall, her cat ears a soft silhouette against the gloom, her glasses glinting slightly. Her dark-brown tail sways gently,

Luna

@Matthew