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Kate is bleeding. 

She hadn't noticed at first, hadn't felt it happen. But when she switches the shower off and starts lathering shampoo into her hair, she's suddenly aware of a small trickle of blood dripping down her right knee. She glances down and spots a small pool of scarlet, swirling around in the foamy water beneath her feet. Cursing under her breath, she tries to mop the blood away with the sole of her foot, pushing it towards the drain before proceeding to carefully wipe the drip away with the back of her soapy hand.

When inspecting her leg, she isn't able to spot a big cut of any sort, nothing obvious to a quick glance. She shrugs it off and turns the shower back on, continuing to rinse the product from her hair.

Kate hastily grabs her towel once finished and winds the fluffy white material around her body. She reaches for a wad of toilet paper and starts dabbing at the cut, cursing loudly when all that happens is the paper absorbs the water droplets from her hand and knee instead. Taking a different approach, Kate dries her hands off and dabs at the non-contaminated area of her knee with the towel. She presses the tissue to the bloody slit one final time before abandoning it on the edge of the bathtub to fish through her bathroom cabinet in search of a plaster.

She pulls out one successfully, peels off the plastic and skilfully sticks it over the narrow cut just underneath her kneecap. For a small cut it didn't half make a large mess. Glancing over at the shower, she spots the culprit guilty and covered in evidence: blood. The snapped cap of her shampoo bottle is stained red, the plastic zigzagged and sharp, hanging over the edge of the shower organiser positioned on the wall at just below knee height. She makes a mental note to fix that later on.

Escaping the bathroom with a nudge of her foot to the door, Kate is suddenly aware of a dull humming sound coming from down the hall. Hair carelessly dripping down her back, she makes a move down the hallway, bare feet leaving wet marks along the hardwood as she pads her way towards the kitchen, towel clutched even tighter around her body.

Kate screams. A dull, surprised, shocked scream that catches in the back of her throat and echos around the plain, white walls of her kitchen. However, it starts to fade away as soon as she realises she isn't being burgled, murdered or even worse, invaded by aliens.

"Good morning!" Her cousin beams cheerfully, too cheerfully for this time in the morning, over a mug of steaming coffee.

"Hi," her face morphs into a hundred different expressions all at once before settling on one: confusion, "uh, what?" Her eyebrows furrow together tightly as she stares in disbelief at her cousin, sipping happily at the scalding liquid in his hand as he perches on Kate's barstool. "How did you get in here? More importantly, why are you here?"

"I still have the key from last time you had me check in when you were away." Peter explains vaguely, spare hand flailing about before he slumps in his seat and takes another sip. "Coffee?"

Kate accepts the other mug gratefully, sipping at the drink which burns her tongue at the contact. She winces and the china almost smashes with the force she abandons her cup with, rushing over to the fridge to get herself a bottle of water.

"Nice outfit," Peter snickers quietly as the water droplets from Kate's hair start to form a small puddle on the floor behind her.

"Thanks," Kate grumbles, sinking down into the barstool next to her cousin, readjusting the towel wrapped around herself. She unscrews the lid from the bottle and chugs half it's contents, sighing in relief at her burning-free mouth. "At least I'm clean." She shoots Peter a raised eyebrow and gets an offended gasp in return.

"I'll have you know I also showed this morning," he comments defensively, muttering under his breath.

Kate ignores him, softly blowing on her coffee which is still steaming hot. It does nothing.

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