ava halliwell.
DATE: january 5th, mid afternoon LOCATION: halliwell funeral support @avahalliwell
Loss was a funny thing, he’d never associated it with the funeral home before. The place a sanctuary of ( perhaps morbid ) humor and a place of friends, a needed esacpe when he was younger and home hadn’t been welcoming. But now, loss seemed to permeate the edges, the weight of the person who’d always definied it leaving a gap he knew only time could properly mend. He’d come for the funeral, of course, but it had been a while since. Long enough for him to come to the conclusion that he needed to leave L.A. behind, found a company, move back home. It had taken a bit of time for him to settle, and with the rush of the holidays taking over coupled with the stress of moving, there were things that had fallen through the cracks. Perhaps it wasn’t his responsiblity to check up on her, but Ava had been there for him in times where he’d felt like most others wouldn’t have, and there was a slight tinge of guilt at not having done so earlier.
People leaving seemed to be the one constant life had given him. He could remember distinctly the punch in the gut feeling that had come when she’d left their old run down neighborhood, traded it in for bigger, better things ( and him left behind. ) But Ava was different, Ava had come back. Which was what made the haunted look in her eyes when she’d come to L.A. dash away any joy that had come at seeing her in the city that had become his temporary home. Then came the nights she’d spent at his apartment, a panic seeming to rise within her that reminded him so much of his own childhood, even if he’d never breathed a word of it and had instead queued up as many old horror movies as he could think of. He hadn’t even asked when she’d needed him to accompany her to the police station, although George was certain the worry in his gaze was entirely too evident. They’d never gotten around to talking about it ( whatever it was ) but then again, George knew there were things he kept hidden deep inside him, and that sometimes pure support rather than the necessity for an explanation was more valuable than anything else that could be offered.
Following the slight signs of human activity, he found Ava working just as her aunt once had. He was glad to see her there, the funeral home seeming to fit so much better than her jobs in Hollywood ever had. Giving the wall closest to him a short knock in the hopes of drawing her attention, lips tilted up in a grin. “I know I’m beyond late -- but I come bearing gifts. Plus some company -- because as much as I know you adore corpses, I was thinking some living guests would do you some good.” He could understand the tendency to hide from social interactions, the rush of crowds in L.A. always a bit much, and it was good being back in Catalina for a bit of reprieve from how busy and crowded life seemed to be there. “And maybe...” A sheepish hand ran through his hair, cringing at the thought that he sounded horribly like a teenager once more. But if they weren’t ready to talk about her troubles, perhaps him opening up about some of his own might ease them back into some normality of friendship. “Some girl advice?”