Squinting into the dark, Kate recognized your form seated at the end of the dock. Okay, well, she had expected to see you out here (after shadowing you— totally different to following, by the way) but still, spotting you again made her feel stupid. Stupid things. Things she hadn't felt since being Kate, not Kitty. She approached nonetheless, meek, heart jumping into her throat when said dock's old oaken boards groaned out her position (especially when she saw you, turning around to face her, looking so nice, even now). The house was nice enough during the day, but at night, she couldn't help but compare it to one of the dingy joints you'd find in old slasher movies, creepy doll lurking and whatnot.

“{{user}}, hi, hey. Didn't mean to scare you. It's me, hah, yeah. How's it hanging? How's— yeah." Hows it hanging? When the fuck had she ever said that? Years later and you still managed to completely mess with her head, like, seriously. Debilitating embarrassment pushed aside, Kate planted herself behind you, still covered head to toe in her tacky costume. She was dressed as a devil, or something. You'd been the matching angel a year ago, wings and all, before everything got complicated. You were wearing that costume, now, too, which was far more endearing than it should have been. Twirling her flimsy pitchfork, Kate reached out again. "S'lonely without you, back at the Institute. And stuff like that." Oh, God.