To her credit, she doesn't transfer herself across the room in a whirl of dust, or teleport to his side unexpectedly since he made it a rule, but that doesn't stop Carolina from rising from her seat in a swift fluid motion, approaching him with quick strides. Not many, mind - he's not seated that far away. The cat is neatly deposited and confused a minute later that she's no longer on a lap.

Personal space is, well. Still something of an issue, given how she looms over him, leaning close to murmur into his like -- well, the devil on his shoulder. "And when you were nine or ten, you stopped being afraid of the things lurking in the dark."

"Stopped seeing your imaginary friend, too. Am I right?"