Like a Bolt from the Blue...

[das_vedanya]

WHO: The Older Siblings - Ivan and Yekaterina (Natalia can pop in~)
WHEN: Late Evening, July 7th
WHERE: Ivan, Natalia, and Yekaterina's Apartment
WHAT: Yekaterina returns home expecting the worst. She's only half right.

Comments

[slavic_chest]

"Damn it," she muttered, groping in her purse, "where are my keys

[das_vedanya]

He stirred, but dare not wake from his disturbed slumber while there was still an ounce of slipping back into sweet unconsciousness. It was warm where his dreamed, not like the apartment with the draft coming from open doo- open door? There was a probability that Natalia was home, though there were some inconsistencies with the matters at hand - namely, she never left the door opened, and the touch on his forehead was too delicate, like a porcelain so fine that his hair could shatter it. Through the haze of a sweet limbo of darkness, he tried to find a correlation between 'Vanya' and 'Natalia' with no avail

[slavic_chest]

She stroked his forehead methodically, trying to retrain the panic that threatened to well up out of her. There could be a perfectly good explanation, right? Ivan was a good kid, mostly, nothing too terrible could have happened. Right? The self-reassurance wasn't helping. She kept running her fingertips over his smooth brow, over and over again. His eyes opened, slowly, drowsily, and she smiled through her misty eyes. Then he bolted upright, and her heart skipped a beat. "V-vanya!" Before she had realized it, her arms were wrapped around her little brother, clutching him close. "You worried me," she murmured, eyes wet.

She got a grip, finally, and pushed herself away. "Tell syestra what's been going on, Vanya," she tried to state firmly, but her voice cracked, wavered. "More importantly, are you alright?"

[das_vedanya]

Her fingers always had the most calming methods of luring things out of him, but the initial shock of witnessing what Banquo was to Macbeth in the embodiment of his sister locked every explanation under the lump in his throat - replaced itself with questions.

"I-it is not important, Katushka..." he muttered between the eclipses of his hand shielding his eyes from the light in the door. "Just a long day at work... I have not recovered from the time differences between Liberty and Mosc-- wh-where have you been?!"