Katherine "Kathy" McAvera (irish_rose) wrote in parabolical, @ 2008-05-01 23:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | angel, cordelia chase, katherine mcavera |
Who: Angel, Cordy, and Kathy
What: Reunions!
When: Following Angel and Cordy's safe return to the Hyperion
Where: Angel's room.
Rating: G, more than likely.
Status: In progress.
Despite the overwhelming urge to scream, kick, run outside, do something, anything, Kathy had remained true to her word. Trading in her nightgown for an oversized T-shirt of Cordy’s, she had ventured out of their bedroom at last, seeking reprieve from the chaos surrounding the hotel in Angel’s. For a long while she had wandered through the room, feeling oddly settled, a state of calm numbness slipping over her as she sat, stood, and paced, pausing to toy with the heavy fabric of the curtains.
She had come across the sketches purely on accident, ever-respectful of his privacy and never once intentionally snooping. They were lying there on the night table, and so the little girl saw no harm in picking them up. After all, hadn’t Liam always been eager to share them with her, anyway? While their father, in particular, had never been one to appreciate his artistic talents, Kathy had always been spellbound by this gift her brother possessed to immortalize any scene with his hand. In result, though she had always hated sitting still for any length of time as a tiny thing, she had done her best to become statuesque if ever her brother wished to use her as his subject. It had been an honor, in her eyes, to be drawn by his hand.
As it would happen, those sketches that she picked up were such pieces; she recognized herself there in black and white almost instantly. Having done well to remain stoic until that moment, she lost her composure only when a cathartic swell of emotion washed over her and racked her tiny frame. She cried for both Cordelia and her brother, cried for their absence and pleaded yet again for their safe return. And, she wept because she held in her hands the proof she had been lacking that her brother, despite all of the differences between this ‘Angel’ character he had become and her Liam, neither felt nor loved her any less than before. Cordy had tried in vain to explain it to her before, but it took those sketches to prove to the little girl that he was, in fact, the same brother she had always known.
Eventually, be it because the tears finally ran dry or because she was simply exhausted; she fell into a deep, dreamless sort of sleep. And that was how the little girl could be found, buried beneath the covers, wearing Cordy’s T-shirt and clutching in her arms a single portrait. If the look of utmost peace written over her expression was any indication, she hadn’t been so happy in a very, very long time.