Jun. 7th, 2007

blindingtrust: (upset)
She was home. Check. Cedric was being calm. Check. Bed for sleeping? Check.

Comfy clothing? Well. Check. Sort of. Ivy is relaxing in a long shirt and a pair of shorts. For her that's like being a knight without her armor. She's so used to clothing that covered her. Even her hair being so long was like a shield. A metaphorical one. A way to keep her insecurities at bay. Because she hated attention. The hair was meant to draw attention away from her person so much. So they wouldn't look too closely at her face.

Her long dark coat was to comfort her. She liked the feel of it near her. It was quite comforting. But she didn't have to wear it here. Or keep her hair in her face. Or feel so damned nervous in her own home. But she couldn't help it. She was very weak feeling. And kept just thinking. About the hospital. About how she hated being there. And now her own doubts.

About everything. And she felt very stupid over it. So she ignored the idea of bed and sleep, and curled up on her couch, quietly petting her dog. Because she was going to distract herself that way. Say, maybe cuddles? She should totally get them.

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Ivy Weaver

October 2012

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