As soon as her the mask had been removed from her face, she hoarsely
croaked, "Don't." The nurse had turned to her inquisitively and inquired
what not to do, and Cordelia replied, "Don't call them- don't tell them I'm
awake." It took all the breath in her weak lungs to spew out those words,
so much that she had to have the mask put over her mouth again. The nurse,
although befuddled, nodded, and Cordelia slipped into the first short nap
she had had in awhile.
...
Faded blonde streaks mingled with the vibrant hair that had grown as she slept cloaked her shoulders as she sat up for the first time in months. In her fingers was a glass of water- it was cool. Wet. Cordy's tongue slipped out and wettened her lips, which were parched and cracked. Before the incident, they had been treated like royalty, coated in sweet glosses and painted pretty, vibrant colors.
Even though she was worn, she was beautiful. Thick black lashes coated honey hued eyes, smooth bronze skin year around, and voluptuous curves despite her petite frame and long, slender legs.
She had been a cheerleader.
Her muscles cramped at the thought of the twists she had done, and her throat ached at the thought of shouting meaningless cheers. But it had been true. In her youth- yes, it was only four- maybe five- years since high school, but it felt like a decade.
A century.
Angel.
He had first tortured for centuries and then suffered for centuries. Hah. Laughable. WBish. But it wasn't funny.
Fred was funny. Or, had been. To Cordy. She was an adorable, vivacious girl, smarter then Cordy ever could have been. Everybody loved her. Another thing Cordy envied. Envy. She had envied the girl's grasp on both of her best friends. Gunn and Wes. As soon as they were sure she was safely tucked away under the wings of a maniac [...jasmine...] they had fled. It was spine chilling- but not in the pleasuring, scary-movie way. It hurt.
No one. No one.
None of the people whom she called her family had none- or cared. They were wrapped up with their own problems... Cordelia was just the same.
She hadn't been.
The demon had seeped in, sending destruction to every nerve and cell in her. Yes, Cordy had fought. And fought. But eventually she collapsed into a corner of her mind, a mind she shared with an ultimate evil. She stayed there, huddled and sobbing, waiting for her friends to notice and come save her.
They didn't.
The glass dropped.
A wet, cold sensation spread over Cordelia's abdomen, but instead of cursing at her luck, a brief smile flit over her lips. She felt again.
She hadn't felt for a while- she had numbed herself.
Because her heart was broken.
...
Faded blonde streaks mingled with the vibrant hair that had grown as she slept cloaked her shoulders as she sat up for the first time in months. In her fingers was a glass of water- it was cool. Wet. Cordy's tongue slipped out and wettened her lips, which were parched and cracked. Before the incident, they had been treated like royalty, coated in sweet glosses and painted pretty, vibrant colors.
Even though she was worn, she was beautiful. Thick black lashes coated honey hued eyes, smooth bronze skin year around, and voluptuous curves despite her petite frame and long, slender legs.
She had been a cheerleader.
Her muscles cramped at the thought of the twists she had done, and her throat ached at the thought of shouting meaningless cheers. But it had been true. In her youth- yes, it was only four- maybe five- years since high school, but it felt like a decade.
A century.
Angel.
He had first tortured for centuries and then suffered for centuries. Hah. Laughable. WBish. But it wasn't funny.
Fred was funny. Or, had been. To Cordy. She was an adorable, vivacious girl, smarter then Cordy ever could have been. Everybody loved her. Another thing Cordy envied. Envy. She had envied the girl's grasp on both of her best friends. Gunn and Wes. As soon as they were sure she was safely tucked away under the wings of a maniac [...jasmine...] they had fled. It was spine chilling- but not in the pleasuring, scary-movie way. It hurt.
No one. No one.
None of the people whom she called her family had none- or cared. They were wrapped up with their own problems... Cordelia was just the same.
She hadn't been.
The demon had seeped in, sending destruction to every nerve and cell in her. Yes, Cordy had fought. And fought. But eventually she collapsed into a corner of her mind, a mind she shared with an ultimate evil. She stayed there, huddled and sobbing, waiting for her friends to notice and come save her.
They didn't.
The glass dropped.
A wet, cold sensation spread over Cordelia's abdomen, but instead of cursing at her luck, a brief smile flit over her lips. She felt again.
She hadn't felt for a while- she had numbed herself.
Because her heart was broken.