A/N: I know it's been a while. I promise updates won't be that sporadic in the future (at least for the next few months). Anyway, hope you like it!

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The next morning broke early and bright. Katrina moaned as she slid out of bed, twisting her hair up with a clip and walking down the stairs to the kitchen. Ivy was, as usual, at the table with a cup of coffee and breakfast ready for her daughter.

"Mother," Katrina nodded, rubbing her eyes as she sat.

"You have piano at six," Ivy told her. She looked up and tilted her head, studying Katrina's face. "You should go outside today," she said softly. "Your color is off."

Katrina smiled. "Of course."

--

The walk to First Beach was much different than the last time. Katrina's stomach tickled with nerves, and her white shoes seemed too formal and loud as they shifted the sand with a hiss. She slid them off, glad that the sky had darkened a little, as there were not so many people around to see.

Katrina wasn't going to lie. She knew what (who) she was looking for and the strangeness of this fact didn't escape her. When Ephraim's form appeared, standing near the water, she knew that she was going to walk up to him. She just didn't know exactly why.

"Ephraim Black," she said, her breath cut short as she stopped next to him. He didn't look at her, keeping his eyes on the horizon and smirking.

"Katrina."

She expected perhaps he'd say more, but he didn't. The silence quickly grew to be too much for her.

"I…" she paused, realizing she probably should have thought before speaking. "How have you been?"

"It's only been a day," he replied.

"Does that mean you've been well?"

Ephraim chuckled. "Yes, I'm well. How are you?"

"Fine."

"Glad we've come to a conclusion." The corner of his mouth twitched and he looked up at her suddenly. "Come on. I want to show you something."

He grabbed her hand and turned, pulling her along with him as they made their way across the beach. His grip was warm and she stared, the complete opposition of their palms capturing her attention.

"I can walk by myself, you know," she told him, pursing her lips.

"Oh, I'm sure of that," he said. "I just don't want you wandering off on me."

Katrina sighed. "Where are we going?"

"We're almost there."

They walked in silence for another few minutes, hands still entwined. Admittedly, Katrina was grateful for this, as Ephraim's footsteps were longer and faster than hers – were it not for his help she would probably have fallen behind.

Ephraim stopped, abruptly dropping Katrina's hand. She pulled it back and wrapped it in her other one, surprised that she was craving the leftover warmth.

"Okay," he said, grinning.

Katrina, out of breath from the walk, watched as Ephraim proudly gestured towards what looked like part of a fallen tree. The bark was peeling, almost completely off, revealing the strong tan wood beneath.

"If you don't mind me asking," Katrina said, quizzically, "what exactly is it you wanted to show me?"

He smiled again, his teeth gleaming white against his dark skin. "When I was very young, my father made me bring part of an old tree to this spot. I was a lot smaller then, and I could barely hold up the trunk, let alone carry it. But I didn't let him know this, of course – I spent two weeks dragging it here, little by little, until finally I could show him and be proud."

He paused, flipping his arms palms-up. He took Katrina's hand and placed her fingertips on the faint white lines that traced his veins, like chalk drawings on a stone wall.

"That's what these scars are from," he said. Katrina felt the raised lines, amazed.

"Why would you do something that hurt you so badly?"

"You have to understand," Ephraim said, his expression serious. "My father's approval…knowing that he is glad that I'm his son…this means more to me than anything. My family is a part of me – not just the people that made me, but the people I look up to, the people who have cared for me and watched me grow. Do you know what that's like, Kate?"

Katrina shook her head. "I respect my parents, of course, but I don't think I would mark my body like that to please them."

Ephraim smiled, his eyes soft. "I envy you for that, a little. Control is not something I enjoy. Especially when it's being held over me. " He leaned down, gestured for her to do the same. "There's one more thing."

Katrina followed the line of Ephraim's arm to where his fingertips rested on the log. There were lines cut into the pale surface, and she reached her hand over to Ephraim's, feeling the indents in the wood.

It was quiet for a moment, until Katrina turned to him, surprised at the closeness of their bodies.

"What did you call me before?" she asked.

"Kate," he said gently.

"Kate," she echoed. "I rather like that."

Ephraim took his hand from it's resting place on the wood, reaching underneath it instead. He pulled out a small silver blade, a leather cord wrapped tightly around the end. Leaning forward, he began to carve letters into the wood, right next to the ones that spelled out his own name.

After a few minutes he turned back to Katrina. "Kate," he said, nodding towards his work. "It fits."