[ She hears the book drop with a thud, falling against Nyx for a few long moments until she finds her posture again. Existing there, in an embrace that's quickly magnified by innumerable hugs from the past. She has no one to compare to him to, other than the longing she's always had for family. Hers, after all, was taken from her so early in life. At eighteen, but what is an eighteen year old other than still a child? Katherine certainly is not a child any longer, but she's never been one to shut her emotions, feelings, off and lock them away. Katherine feels, and she feels hard.

She realizes with a swallow that she's clutched the fabric of his shirt, slowly letting go, pulling away, looking into his face. Another memory works its way in: are they this frequent when it's someone you love so much? ] I didn't know if you were back yet. I mean. [ She peers down onto the sidewalk, emotion rising in her throat and catching. She's confusing the periods of time, how many times she cried, begged her brother to stay because there's nothing more important than family. He should've been there, through her life, the whole time. ] We can...we should go, find someplace, inside. To talk. Not out here.

[ She's still right there, one hand resting on his chest as she finally draws it away too, glancing off toward the row of houses on the other side of the street. ] My house, or yours? [ Because whatever plans they had lined up right then and there, this is more important, isn't it? There's no walking away from this. ]