Katja was so used to the snow by the time they arrived in London she was wishing for some place sunny. Of course any attempt to manipulate her stepmother into a tropical family Christmas was thwarted by lilith saying "London". She figured if it was boy instead of a girl they would've been in north pole somewhere huddled by a fire at the first mention of snow. The loft her father rented wasn't that bad and she couldn't complain about the scenery. Her only complaint, not that she made any was the false family atmosphere. It could've been just her but it was hard to focus on such things when an important member was missing. Sighing she stuffed her hands into the leather jacket that reminded her so much of her sister. Those type of thoughts would only ruin whatever salvageable aspects this trip had.
After a few turns, Katja had come to the conclusion she was utterly lost. She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment but it was some point between passing the same store and the dead end. Turning around she muttered under her breath about needing better directions as she fixed the strap of her art satchel. The park wasn't supposed to be that far from the loft, but she could always use the time to spend money. Looking in the windows of the shop as she passed them, she immediately write off anything her stepmother might like. Sadly that happen to mean most of things she saw. There had to be at least one art shop around right? How else would people add cultural diversity to their lives?
In all honesty Katja couldn't imagine someone having an artless life. It didn't have to be basic art like drawing and sculpting, but something like dance or music. Anything could be art, therefore there had to be something to feed people's creative hunger. In Katja's eyes it was only logical that the world work that way, even if she didn't express that out loud. Between her thoughts and looking for something to pass off as a well thought out Christmas gift, she wasn't exactly watching her feet. Sometimes bad things happened to semi-decent people, and sometimes fate was kind to people that believed suffered enough. Of course there was always the second option that fate wanted to lure you into a false sense of security, just to see shatter.
She felt the person bump into her before she saw the person. If she had, there's no doubt in her mind she'd be the one on the ground instead of her art bag. Her paint brushes and pencils rolling into the cracks of the sidewalks would be replaced with her wincing at the nasty fall her backside had taken. Sucking her teeth at the state of her art supplies she quickly picked up the things that had fallen out.
"People should be more careful when they're turning corners" Not what she was going to say, until her bag spilled. She didn't take into account that she was just as much at fault than the stranger. After she was sure her bag was okay she flicked her eyes to meet familiar blue eyes. She was expecting a sarcastic retort and an eye roll, not a blast from the past.
"Julia?" She asked raising an eyebrow in disbelief, she had been in London this whole time? She really hoped it was a case of mistaken identity, because things we're very close to the fan. All those nights of being worried and waiting to hear from her, she almost wished it was test of some sort.
