We were there at the house. Kat's house. Stu's house. Taukiri was in the spare room packing his bags and Arama was watching him. Nothing could stop him going and Kat couldn't muster the energy to try. She wanted him to leave loved though. Sneak it into all his pockets, into his belly, smuggle a gladwrapped plate of it onto the passenger seat of his car maybe. 

It made her sad she had to sneak love to people so Stuart wouldn't see it. A focus on anybody, any interest or curiosity in what it meant to live - not just survive, but live - triggered him. He respected survival, the craft and leanness of it made him feel safe. Unnecessary things like angel-shaped bars of vanilla-scented soap, faces framed and put on walls, people coming over, people staying too long, people sitting around, people making suggestions or plans - all of this taunted him. Sometimes her existence taunted him. So pointless. Stuart wrangled from her any scraps of intrigue or love she showed for an idea or person or place and using a vicious alchemy he boiled them up to an asphyxiant.