That feels like something Freddie should have known somehow, something he should've picked up on from hanging out with Noah all this time. Something like guilt curdles in his stomach, but he tries to push it away, still staring down in the basket at the little orange ball of fluff that's currently trying to crawl out and onto him with another quiet little meow.

"What made you think I'd want a cat?"

It comes out more accusatory than curious as the cat digs her little nails into the back of Freddie's hand for purchase, making him flinch and pull away. She hardly seems deterred at all, just meows again as she squirms further out of the basket.

Freddie refuses to think she's cute.