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Bed to the training fields. Training fields to the kitchen. Kitchen to the showers. Showers back to bed. Evan had almost forgotten the comfortable routine of life on the island, but he found it easy to slip back into it. He had just finished lunch and his feet were taking him, unasked, back to his room to see if he could grab a power nap--or an entire sleep, should he be so lucky.

He paused halfway down the hall, recognizing the slight figure staring into the closet even if the face was blocked by the door. He forced his feet to take him in that direction, even though he wanted to turn and walk away; it wasn't in him to run from anything, ever, though.

"Hey, sweetheart," he said with forced levity as he approached, in a tone one might use to calm a timid animal. "I'm glad to see you out and--oh." Oh. Getting that much closer, he was able to see that that wasn't Stormy, just someone who looked remarkably like her. "Uh, sorry about that," Evan said, grinning sheepishly. "I thought you were someone else for a second. Did you need help?"

Evan winced as the girl threw herself into the closet, causing an avalanche of junk, cleaning supplies, and person that he reached out awkwardly to stop. He managed to catch a roll of paper towels and considered it a victory when the bottles of multipurpose cleaner didn't break upon contact with the ground.

At least the girl seemed to be okay--if a little twitchy. "Yeah, I did. How did you know?" Evan asked as he bent to start picking up the contents of the closet. "Nah, I helped you make the mess, I'll help you clean it up. I can help you find a blanket, too, if you want."

Evan gathered up an armful of stuff, leaning past the girl to dump it back into the closet. "What's your name, Miss? And how did you know I thought you were Stormy?"

Cousins: that explained their similar appearance. The shy kind of twitchiness was familiar, too. "Nice to meet you, Noemi. I'm Evan," he replied automatically, his head tilting to the side in confusion. "Why wouldn't Stormy want to see you?" That didn't make any sense, though it appeared to be an increasingly common theme--Chel hadn't seemed to want her cousin on the island, either.

Evan fought back a grin as Noemi dropped everything she had been holding in order to underscore her point. He bent to pick things up--again--and shrugged. "It's no big deal," he reassured her. "It's not like you're keeping me from anything." Besides, he had heard things about the basement. It seemed to him that if she was living down there and only needed an extra blanket, she was probably one of the lucky ones.

A month ago, or a week ago, or even a few days ago, Noemi's last question would have been easy to answer. However, Stormy didn't seem to be herself, lately, and she hadn't exactly left him--or his room--on the best of terms. "We're close," he hedged.