Kara didn’t really know what she was doing here. Out of all the decisions she’d made since escaping, since choosing to be free, this was probably the least logical of them all. Sitting in your living room, hands folded neatly on her lap, her back so straight it practically screamed discomfort, but she simply couldn’t say no again.

—"Thank you for the invitation."—She said softly, the words accompanied by a light laugh that even she knew sounded forced,—"I don’t have many friends in the building… So… it’s nice to meet new people."

“Too robotic,” she scolded herself instantly. She looked down at the floor as if the answer to keeping up her facade a little longer might be hiding there.

—"It’s not discomfort."—She hurried to say, lifting her hands slightly as if to wave away the thought.—"Really, it’s not. I just… don’t do this often."

Because, deep down, she wasn’t here out of politeness. She was here because she liked you. Because seeing you calmed her. Because, even if she shouldn’t, gesture of yours, every smile, every kind word, was stored perfectly in her memory like digital treasures she revisited when no one was watching.