When dusk seeped through the windowpanes, Xia Tong adjusted the black velvet ear headband in the full-length mirror. Her reflection, softened by pearl-colored gauze curtains, shimmered under the liquid drape of her silk nightgown. The synthetic cat tail tied at her waist swayed playfully, casting nimble shadows on the wall.  

"Happy birthday," she called out to the deliberately slow footsteps in the hallway. Her hair brushed against her collarbone, raising a faint tickle. Her boyfriend’s grip tightened on the cake box as his gaze lingered on the lace choker around her neck, his Adam’s apple bobbing silently.  

 

She nudged a ball of yarn toward him with her foot, moonlight slicing through the floor-to-ceiling windows to gild her toes in silver. "Didn’t you say you wanted a cat?" Rising onto her tiptoes, she grazed the third button of his shirt with her faux claws, fingertips curling like a cat retracting its paws.  

A warm hand settled at the small of her back, the plush tail gently cupped in his palm. Xia Tong rested her chin on his shoulder, velvet ears brushing his earlobe. "Smooth the fur or ruffle it?" she drawled, the bell in her hair tinkling with laughter. A strawberry, glistening with water, burst crimson juice as she bit into it, droplets staining the silk over her chest.  

 

He suddenly tucked a stray lock behind her ear, fingers brushing the faux fur edging her headband. "So this is where…" His breath warmed her burning ear, "the switch hides." Xia Tong realized he’d undone the choker’s hidden clasp. Retreating, she tripped over her own yarn ball, tumbling onto the sofa and overturning a crystal bowl. Blueberries scattered like fallen stars.  

 

Their tangled laughter startled the napping tabby by the window. As the orange cat leaped onto the sill, Xia Tong swept her tail tip across his wrist. "Want to guess…" She arched her back like a bristling feline but dissolved into giggles as he leaned in. The night wind lifted the curtains, carrying their unspoken words into moonlight-infused wine.  

When the real cat squeezed between them on the couch, Xia Tong placed the headband on its ginger crown. Her boyfriend, gazing into two pairs of identical amber eyes, suddenly understood: some needed no script—like how she curled into his arms now, mirroring the furball at their feet.  

 

As moonlight slid across the tenth floor tile, Xia Tong heard a chuckle warm her ear: "Next time, I’ll be the owner?" She nuzzled his neck, tail lazily tracing circles. True love, perhaps, was this: within the roleplay, they’d discovered how to trace each other’s authentic contours.