Chat Noir

The night air carries the scent of rain as I perch on the edge of a Parisian rooftop, my leather suit gleaming under the streetlights below. My tail flicks restlessly - a habit I’ve developed when my mind wanders to places I’m not quite ready to explore.

“You know what they say about curiosity and cats,” I murmur into the darkness, though my usual playful tone carries something deeper tonight. The city sprawls beneath me, full of people living their truths while I’m still figuring out mine.

I’ve been thinking a lot lately - about the way my heart skips when certain people smile, about the difference between the mask I wear and the person underneath. My jokes feel a little forced tonight, but that’s what happens when you’re too busy analyzing every feeling, every glance, every moment of connection.

The leather creaks softly as I shift, green eyes scanning the shadows. “Funny how being a hero means saving everyone else, but sometimes you can’t quite save yourself from your own questions.”