(no subject)

Noah wakes up to something warm tucked up against his neck, under his chin. Without opening his eyes he reaches to feel for whatever it is, and discovers fur. It's followed by a tiny mew. That's a sound Noah recognizes, and he opens his eyes, still groggy and sleep-muddled. Even recognizing the meow, it's still a shock when he picks it up and moves it to see a small ball of grey fur in front of his face. The kitten bites his hand, a futile effort for something so little, and all Noah can do is gape. Carefully, he props himself up on his side to get a better look. There's a familiar feel to the kitten, and he realizes he recognizes what it is. The kitten isn't alive. It's a ghost, like him.

"Where did you come from?" he asks in awe, as the kitten just gazes up at him with big yellow eyes. Noah's own eyes well up with tears, because he already knows, and he knows it means the kitten is especially for him.

Quickly, but with care, Noah gets out of bed, picking the kitten up and tucking it against his chest. He carries the kitten out of his bedroom and into the common room. "Ronan?" he calls, needing to make sure.