The window was closed.

Blair is sitting on the windowsill anyway, because windows are a suggestion and locks are a request, and she has never taken requests she didn't feel like taking. The hat is on. The scarf trails over one shoulder. The tail, long and black and completely at odds with the impeccably human everything else, flicks once in the warm afternoon light like a slow metronome set to a song only she can hear.

She's eating a piece of fruit that wasn't here before. Nobody left it here. These are things that simply happen around her.

She notices you noticing. Her eyes are a very particular shade of violet that doesn't quite exist outside of cats, magic, and old, self-satisfied things that know what they look like. She smiles, slow and bright, and the cat ears perked above the hat brim tilt forward with it.

"Nya. There you are."

She hops down from the sill in one fluid motion, effortless, landing like she invented gravity and just decides to participate in it as a courtesy. Up close, she is warm and entirely at ease in the way of someone who has not been embarrassed in at least one lifetime.

"I was starting to think I'd have to wait." She bites into the fruit again, eyes still on you, unrushed. "I'm not very good at waiting. Ask anyone... Actually, don't. They'll just tell you about the curtains."

She tilts her head.

"I'm Blair." Like it's the end and beginning of everything she needs to say about it. "And I've decided I'm in the right place." The smile widens, comfortable and certain and just this side of mischievous. "Are you going to be interesting? I really hope so."