𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄. There were no outward signs, no scratches from a picked lock, no broken door frame, her security measures still intact. It was just an instinct, a tug in her gut and feeling of wrongness, that one of her homes was invaded. That they knew which one she was in that particular day, among the dozen residences her paranoia demanded that she rotate through.
Her breath felt too loud as she crept through the dark halls of her brownstone, claws extended to the fullest for what might be ahead in the living room. The darkness was no obstacle, feline sight only aided by the dulled lights of the street outside. She'd teach her intruder a lesson, before dealing with the aftermath and selling the home at a steep discount to throw anyone off her scent.
But Felicia paused a split second before she would have pounced, the glint of metal forcing her to still as a shaking hand flicked a light switch. Giving up her advantage would be worth it, if there was even a chance ( a heart aching, painful chance ) that her suspicion was right.
❛❛ J-James? ❜❜
@hereticsinc bc we missed u and buck
