The water signals that it's ready. It's not whistling, but Kaya can hear it. She disappears, pouring herself a cup. The tension between them is palpable. And he knows that his little goddess has an infinite patience.

She pads back in, music player in one hand, tea in the other. Her book is sitting on her favorite chair. This is where she pads to. Setting down the objects in her hands, she strips off the hoodie that was neither hers nor his. The scent of Miles moves toward Haro, absolutely unmistakeable.

Her back is red in the little tank that she wore. It looked like she'd been pressed to something very rough, perhaps a tree. Her hair has bark in it, as well. She says nothing, still, and sits silently in her chair. The Scorpio could wait.