The last week has been nothing but an absolute whirlwind. Klaus has done his best to try and keep his spirits up on their return home, but the days have passed in an odd sort of silence. Claire, thrilled to see them back, bounces around and plays music, but looks sorrowfully at the bedroom where where Allison rests. Where Patrick can't soothe the little girl, Klaus does his best to distract her, trying to find ways to help her communicate with her mother, be it in cards or videos or little notes left on breakfast trays.
Needless to say, Klaus is tired, but he's just gotten little Claire down for a nap when he hears the doorbell. Patrick's off at work, so he's not entirely sure who could be ringing. A rogue girl scout? A delivery? A tricky thief ready to hold him at gunpoint?
He pries himself off the couch on the second ring, but doesn't bother to actually make himself more presentable. Yoga pants and a sheer, lacy kimono are clothes enough, an with the heatwave they've been experiencing lately? Well, let someone complain. He happens to be sporting a tiara and a long set of gaudy pink pearls a la Claire pre-nap time, but he's all but forgotten them at this point.
He swings open the door without checking to see who's outside, "So sorry, the lady of the house is in repose at the moment, you'll have to—" A blink, a stare, when he really takes in who waits on the other side of the threshold. It doesn't add up, Diego with the bright cut of Hollywood hills as his backdrop.
"Diego?" His voice goes quiet, almost a whisper, a hand clenching the door. It's like his brain stalls, the walls and fronts raised for the sake of Patrick, Claire, and Allison stuttering, shuddering against the very breath of fresh air that his brother is. "Holy shit," he laughs and all but throws himself at his brother, knocking the tiara askew in unkempt curls as his arms curl around his shoulders. "What the hell are you doing here?"
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Needless to say, Klaus is tired, but he's just gotten little Claire down for a nap when he hears the doorbell. Patrick's off at work, so he's not entirely sure who could be ringing. A rogue girl scout? A delivery? A tricky thief ready to hold him at gunpoint?
He pries himself off the couch on the second ring, but doesn't bother to actually make himself more presentable. Yoga pants and a sheer, lacy kimono are clothes enough, an with the heatwave they've been experiencing lately? Well, let someone complain. He happens to be sporting a tiara and a long set of gaudy pink pearls a la Claire pre-nap time, but he's all but forgotten them at this point.
He swings open the door without checking to see who's outside, "So sorry, the lady of the house is in repose at the moment, you'll have to—" A blink, a stare, when he really takes in who waits on the other side of the threshold. It doesn't add up, Diego with the bright cut of Hollywood hills as his backdrop.
"Diego?" His voice goes quiet, almost a whisper, a hand clenching the door. It's like his brain stalls, the walls and fronts raised for the sake of Patrick, Claire, and Allison stuttering, shuddering against the very breath of fresh air that his brother is. "Holy shit," he laughs and all but throws himself at his brother, knocking the tiara askew in unkempt curls as his arms curl around his shoulders. "What the hell are you doing here?"