Those Mornings
by V.V.

The rain continued to drum against the windows, like it had for the past hour which Cordelia had been awake. The bedsheets had been thrown aside ages ago, probably already when she had been asleep, but Cordelia wasn't sure when she had done it and frankly didn't care. She had just layd on her bed ever since she had awaken. Finally, after who knew how long, she rose and dragged herself infront of the mirror. She was going to be late from work today, she knew it, but it somehow felt unimportant. Angel wouldn't say anything, this was the third morning like this since she started to work for him and he knew better than to ask, instead letting her sulk by herself.

She hated these mornings, they made her feel worthless, like she had lost the only thing in her life that mattered, which was ridicilous since she had never had it, only dreams of it. Foolish dreams. Cordelia reached for her hairbrush, but in her thoughts had to stumble for it for a few seconds. Not that it mattered. With trembling hands she started to comb her hair with slow, meticulous movements, but didn't seem to get anywhere with continuing with the same section of her hair for over five minutes while staring at herself at the mirror.

There she was, in all her glory. A gutless coward, who couldn't say what she felt to anyone because she had to be what she appeared to be. Of course if she had, it was pretty unlikely that anything would have turned for better. She would have been even more alienated from the gang and if she expected somekind of a positive response from the object of her desire, a term which at the same time made her want to weep and to laugh and the only way she could call that person in her mind, she would have been sorely disappointed. She knew all these things, yet they didn't make the weight any easier to carry. Actually, she thought the effect was contrary.

Finally, after about half an hour, Cordelia set the brush down, but instead of continuing her grooming, she leaned on the mirrordesk and buried her face in her hands. She ahd promised herself the last time that she wouldn't cry anymore, but at that moment it was impossible to stop the tears. She knew tha Dennis was around and probably would liked to to console her somehow, but he too had learned to let her be by herself during these mornings. It took some time for her to get herself under control again, but she managed to do it and raised her head finding herself again staring the reflection of her face at the mirror.She felt like she was going to burst into tears again, but this time managed to avoid that.

She rose up and walked to her wardrobe starting to pick her clothes of the day. She knew she should talk to somebody, to Angel. He had centuries behind him and the experience that came with that, and besides he was probably the one person in the world at the moment who understood her situation. She also knew she would never talk about it with him, with anybody. It was just not Cordelia Chase. She found a piece of clothing which suited her that day, although normally she wouldn't have even considered it, got dressed and left her bedroom. The rain continued to drum against her windows.