Re: log: cat, matt, emily
[Cat managed to keep Em's attention with the questions about hot things to drink, and for the first time since opening the door (for the first time in weeks, really), she smiled. Wry, a twist of lips.] It's cold in here too. If you can believe it. [It was a hint of who she used to be - who she could be still, when not lost in sleep or her own mind. Amused at people and the world around her. Even amused at herself. And she used her good hand to gesture toward the countertop, where a slick black coffeemaker sat tucked under the overhand of the upper cabinets. The house could look foreboding, but they weren't savages.
She returned her attention to Matt, his correction, and let her mouth shift into a warmer smile. The change from groggy to social was slow, but like a breeze nudging cloud, the sun made itself gradually known.] And vet. Which says a lot about what Cat thinks of me. [The smile was still small, but enough to make it known that she was teasing. Making herself the butt of the joke.]
They're upstairs. I was in bed, I didn't need anything until I got up. [She headed for the chairs at his gesture, though, perching on the very edge of one and pulling up her knees so that her heels braced on the seat of the chair. It looked like it should be uncomfortable, but she made it natural, with no hint of strain. It did, however, highlight the knobbiness of her knees and the slimness of her legs.]