"𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐎𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐱𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐈 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐭 𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐭 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧, 𝐈 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝."

tripping onto the tl, falling face first right in front of the reader.

...sorta? a rather pained groan from a barely moving kat, face remaining down as she slowly raised a thumbs-up. she may need a moment. and a hand.

...sorry, was she staring again—? she can stop! she's terribly sorry... she's just the kind of woman she could stare at all day, daydreaming away.

oh! oh, ok... ...still, perhaps she should just. go over and introduce herself! rather than just stare...

|| really oughtta be more active on kat,,,

cue a very awkward and nervous journalist shuffling up to her then, totally awestruck — not by celebrity, but by beauty. “ h-hi... i'm kat... sorry, i just... you're really pretty? and... well, i just wanted to say hi... what's your name? ”

“ stage name? you... sing? act? something like that? ” a quick smile, adjusting her glasses; somewhat more at ease but still nervous. “ indira is a beautiful name, though! ”

well — and this is totally not an excuse for her to meet her new neighbour — but kat's coffee machine is in perfect working order. ...perhaps she'd like to come over for a cup?

just ignore the mess! and the dangerously towering bookshelves! and the several used coffee cups. and the pride flags. she... rarely gets visitors. but do come in! she'd be more than happy, really.

“ i'll, uh, have a look at your coffee machine later, if you want. kinda handy with them. mine's broken from overuse too many times. ” chuckling, kat sipped at her fourth cup of coffee of the day; it hadn't been lunch yet. “ if you say so! alright... so... like it here so far? ”