Katie knew this was raw. This in the moment emotion. This feeling of dread and confusion mixed with frustration and, well, some sadness. It would pass. Not because it had to. But because it was them. And they weren't their Arrow counterparts, the two who'd been through years of trials and fights and now seemed to barely know one another or talk to understand each other better. They were Katie and Stephen, and they always would be, no matter what else they found themselves in. That much, she could say with ease, she felt would remain to ring true for years to come. When Katie met someone she had a connection with, that connection became ingrained in who she was. Whether it was her best friend Drew she'd met when she was 6, or someone she met randomly in a restaurant 5 years prior and ended up starting a business venture to create her name beyond her tv and movie work - when Katie felt a pull, she did what it took to be the best half of that friendship she could be. And Katie had that pull with Stephen. No matter what they ever became, that wouldn't change. And that was, she guessed, part of why they were sitting there right now. Actually talking. Not having one say something, laying down the law of how things had to be, and walking away from the other. But first and foremost, she needed to address the distance issue. "Hey," she said quietly, her hand reaching out to touch the bigger ones in front of her that were seemingly trying to get the knuckles to turn to rubber by pulling at them so much. "It's okay. I mean. I was hurt, I won't lie about that. It wasn't the lack of time spent talking, it was what it felt like when we did." Busy. She totally got that. Even if he wasn't in front of a camera, Stephen was usually doing <i>something</i>. They were very much alike in that regard as well. Idle hands didn't work for them. Hence why it was no surprise to her that both were giving up their hiatus break to step into the shoes of other characters, while still working on their Arrow bodies, their other ventures, and doing the rounds with appearances to remind people they still cared about their more important alter-egos. "I didn't get why it was like that. But I do now. I'm not mad at you. Once you told me why, here, tonight, the hurt faded." He seemed so frustrated. She didn't know if he was confused, or sure of what he wanted and just not able to word it, but it was written all over his face. His mannerisms. Her go-to reaction would be to scoot over, rub his head, his shoulders, rest her head against his. But she couldn't now. And that sucked. It was funny, because when she'd offered him head rubs, he'd breezed over them. That had actually been her first big sign during the week. Small as it was, that was what initially tipped her off. And again tonight, sitting side by side, she'd offered again with no recognition of it. Two months ago, it wouldn't have been a second thought. Everything he said, about what she meant to him, she knew. She knew because she felt it. And felt the same. No secret there. It was a foundation built, one that kept being built on. That importance wouldn't change. Katie, from the moment the realization hit her that something new was going on, never felt like anything had changed. She just felt like something else was being added. A new direction in the framework, while still building on what was already there. But. Clearly. Construction on the new wing was halted. No rewind, so not torn down. But clearly, the building permit was being pulled. And then...he was gone. Mugs in hand. The ghost of his lips on her forehead. The haunt of his words, <i>Tear through your emotions, because that's what'll happen</i> ringing in her ears, because what did that even mean? Was she foolish to think so positively, while he was already seeing an impending doom and gloom? And that's when her body flopped on the bed with her face in her pillow to muffle the scream. The middle. Where the fuck was the middle? By the time Stephen had returned, she'd paced the room a few times, used her favorite hand lotion that smelled of passion fruit and mango because wringing them had made them dry - and it gave her an excuse to keep them busy as the lotion was massaged in. When he returned she was sitting with her back against the headbord again, legs stretched out in front of her, newly lotioned hands folded in her lap, only unclasped to take hold of the mug he gave her, a nod of 'thanks' just before she brought it to her lips. He always made her coffee just right. While he was gone, she tried her best to think of what to say. But she had questions - she didn't know if she had answers for him, but she had questions. He hadn't yet asked her, directly, how she felt. What she wanted. What she needed, since he said he can't give her what he thinks she deserves. "When did it change? Like. What hit the switch in your mind?" She knew the when. It was right after he got back from England, a trip she was meant to go on before she'd signed onto Wolves. "Did something happen in England, to make you second guess and need to hit the switch? Everything seemed so good before you left, even when you were on the way back."