earlymorninstar

[Paper Faces on Parade] Dylan x Early [18+]

It was within this new, lighter banter between them that the itch became ever so present -- as if both of them had taken part in a similar conversation so long ago. There was something about his demeanor that, despite her usual reservations, Clara had found herself absorbed. It was a dangerous sort of thing, and she understood that full well, but the closer she could get, she felt that she could get that much closer to her own answer no matter how impossible that may be. And despite her usual exterior - the need to drive everyone away without a single thought as to who they were, there was something about Max that drew her in far beyond that curiosity and familiarity. There was the ghost of a connection that perhaps she once knew; an instinct now that she could not fully explain t keep the distance limited between them; to hang on his words. That was the part that had her most intrigued and most frustrated that she could not remember him or at least a moment in time that he could have taken part of. For him to be able to catch her attention now, after training herself to be so terribly guarded, he must have had some sort of impact on her life prior to this,

The way he had chuckled at her words had amused her and perhaps the small smile had lingered a bit longer on her lips. If Christian even had the opportunity to take a look at her now, he would have had to have thought Hell had frozen over. Not only was she smiling, but she was giving someone the time of day all in the same. Those two things rarely occurred together -- unless she had a motive and clearly she had. Clara was determined to leave this evening with answers, no matter what the cost. At least for now, his curiosity was piqued just as much as hers and perhaps they were getting closer to the truths that lie veiled between them. He was growing more comfortable with her, clear by the way he now held her so very close against him, as was she in her own way. She could not allow him inside her world entirely, but to let him have a taste if only to secure an answer would be a risk that she was willing to take.

Clara had nearly convinced herself to give in until he had mentioned the stone that hung from her neck. She had stiffened in the slightest, knowing it must have been a coincidence and simply that. The stone was peculiar to begin with, uncut and just large enough, she knew that it had evoked the curiosity of quite a few, at least wanting to know where she had gotten it. The easy way out of those conversations involved the explanation that it was a gift from someone from long ago -- and that was all she would ever reveal. But Max had not asked about its origin, rather, had explained that it was because of that stone that his curiosity had built over her, and the thought unsettled her.

Yet, even as she expected more of an explanation, something had danced across his features a seven his steps had faltered. Clara studied him carefully, her brow furrowing as she almost tried to grasp where he could have drifted off to, and how it had suddenly caused him to pull away from her. His apology had not entirely fallen on her ears as Clara watched him dart off from her with out so much as a glance her way and she frowned as he collected his things and practically made a beeline towards the door.

Even in the short time that she knew him, Clara could sense the unusualness of his departure, which had only intrigued her further. Something had connected for him, whether it was two pieces of quite a few of them, he had remembered at least something that immediately made him want to remove himself from her presence. No one so deeply emerged in a game like that simply forfeits... And she most certainly wasn't one to allow that to happen either. He had started this, and she intended on finishing it. She wanted to know what he knew...

Her steps were quick after his own, far enough away that he wouldn't notice her and yet close enough that she wouldn't lose him as she found herself roaming the long halls until the chill of the fresh air had grazed her skin and she had heard the crash of glass scattered upon the patio. Something told her she should cut her losses and leave; that there was probably a damn good reason she couldn't remember him... But she found herself outside anyway, lingering close to the doorway before she boldly took a few steps towards him.

"Well, wasn't that quite... Abrupt of you?" Clara asked as she crossed her arms over her chest. "Attempt to pry the truth from a girl and then quickly leave before the opporunity presents itself..." She added, a couple steps more in his direction. "You remembered something, didn't you? You remembered something that you didn't want to face and yet... That isn't entirely fair now, is it?" She tapped her bottom lip with her pointer finger, almost in thought as her hazel eyes scanned him carefully. "I must admit-- I'm still not quite sure who you might be, but quite frankly, I would like you to indulge me so at least I can leave this place without that incessant feeling that you might be more than you seem..."

[Paper Faces on Parade] Dylan x Early [18+]

This was quite the dangerous game that they were playing, wasn't it? Two strangers, a strand of something familiar floating between them and neither one of them was too eager to give up their own admittance to where their curiosity had settled. With her last sentence, Clara had only assumed that she had placed the nail in the coffin - that he would have no choice but to tell her exactly why he had plucked her from the crowd. It couldn't have been the wonderful sort of personality that she oozed as she lingered by the bar. If anything, she understood full well that it was nearly off-putting to most, and on more than one occasion, Christian had attempted to correct her behavior at events such as these. Still, it worked for her - it kept nearly everyone away unless she sought them out, and her attention was given in the smallest of doses.

Yet, then came Maximillian and no matter how she had struggled, how she had wanted to brush him aside just as boldly as she had the others, she had given into his little game. Moves were made, pieces upon a checkerboard, waiting for the inevitable winner. She had only assumed that she had been the victor... He seemed to mull over a retort, something to silence her although she knew full well he wouldn't be able to. She was far too confident for that; far too used to silencing anyone who tried to entertain her. But... Maybe she was slipping.

She most certainly had not expected the distance to close between them, he had pulled her tighter against him with every twirl, every spin, but she had not pulled back. It was another move of his piece upon the board, and she was more than eager to make her own move. Even so, there was something about his touch, the way he held her so terribly close as she felt his hand wander to the small of her back - something even in that little moment had brought her back to some time long ago -- something that was so terribly frustrating that no matter how much he continued to speak, no matter how his hands had boldly roamed her own body, she couldn't place where she might have met him before.

Her hazel gaze had not left his own, not even for the slightest of moments, almost urging the answers to be written in his own emerald depths. Sadly, all that she was met with was a retort that she hadn't been expecting. He had backed her into a corner, whether Clara would have liked to admit it or not. Her silent victory had lasted mere seconds as he had had spoken, admitting his own curiosity only at first. It hung atop the smallest of distance between them, thick and heavy, adding to her own intrigue. It hadn't only been her that had felt that awful familiarity, which would only lead her to believe that they had to have met along the way before. And yet, unless he was another passerby at a party that she had humored once before, she couldn't understand where she might have met him for longer than a passing moment.

He had left her with a choice - a choice that she had mulled over as she had nearly felt his breath against her own lips as they were pressed against one another. It wasn't just the curiosity that was nagging her - it was the fact that whatever it was that lingered between them had seemed deeper than a mere quick occurrence. Even this, the exchange of wits and words had seemed a memory in its own, as if they'd taken this dance before - as if they'd both played this game but she could not remember the outcome.

Her gaze had drifted to his lips for only a moment as she seemed to pause at his question, but she had not pulled away from him just yet. Her own lips had pursed as Clara had tried to grasp at anything that would pull her from the corner that he placed her in, but she came up empty.

"Well, my dear..." Clara began, her voice soft as her hazel eyes lifted back to his own once more. "You are quite good at this aren't you? I don't believe I've met someone who can skirt around the topic as well as I in quite a long damn time..." She murmured before the smile tugged at the corners of her lips again. "I must admit I am curious... And for a stranger to be able to draw that truth from my lips is quite the phenomenon..." She admitted quietly. "That still doesn't mean you're worth the entire truth, mind you...I'm not an open book for you to pick through. But there is that awful sort of feeling that we did meet some time ago, yet, I cannot quite figure out where the hell that could have happened..." She would have remembered him -- how could she not? She found herself studying his features as they swirled about, trying to piece together what might be hiding behind the lace as if that could have held all of the answers that she sought. Even then, Clara wasn't so sure...

[Paper Faces on Parade] Dylan x Early [18+]

It wasn't just the physical dance that both of them were to partake in - there was another dance that they had began, one where each of them were so carefully stepping around each other while avoiding a slip of the foot, avoiding the wrong touch or the wrong move throughout the song that swirled around them. They each had their own agendas, Clara would have been a fool to think that he would have just wanted a dance for the evening. Whether or not it was the need to conquer something that seemed worth breaking through, or perhaps it was a simple curiosity, there was something that had led him to her where others had passed her by. Just as similarly, there was something that led her to comply with his requests and humor him to the extent that she would allow herself to. It was a nagging feeling that no matter how fervent she was in truing to grasp it, the truth was just out of her reach - just at the tip of her fingertips without the satisfaction of being able to feel its touch. There was something about this man, Maximillian, before her but the more he spoke, the more of an enigma he was becoming to her. There was nothing other than that ghost of a sensation that could have tipped the scales one way or another. There was nothing tangible, even as she took his hand carefully and felt his gentle pull towards the swirl of colors on the dance floor, that she could grasp and hold. Perhaps that was what had gotten entirely under her skin.

Clara wasn't one to simply let things go; to let a curiosity fade on the wind and leave herself to wonder down the road who that strange man was that she had met at a random Masquerade that Christian had dragged her to one evening. No, she learned a very long time ago to grasp at whatever truths and details she could; to never let something no matter how simple, slip through her fingers so easily. She would be damned if she would let her questions go unanswered.

She could see the hesitancy in his own gaze and she wondered amidst it all if he had felt the same sort of confusion; the same familiarity that had no real source that she could reason. If so, it would only pique her curiosity further - would only make her strive even further for a solution to the new problem she had. His responses to her incessant questions had seemed sincere - she had not planned on opening up further than what she had to in order to put the missing pieces of her puzzle together, no matter how much of a tale he might have wanted to hear from her. As far as she knew, he did not deserve it - no one deserved to hear the reason she was the way she had ended up. She was closed off to nearly everyone for a reason -- no one could hurt her if they couldn't get close enough.

Clara had heard his words as he drew her close to him and she had noticed how his eyes had fallen towards the stone that hung from her neck. Curious, she had only taken it for face value. The stone was, in fact, rather peculiar to begin with - not the normal fashion that most women would find themselves wearing. But something about the way he had looked at it had caught her interest - he was not looking at it for its peculiarity, no matter how brief, there was something else in his gaze for that fleeting moment - something that she wanted to pursue.

"Perhaps..." Clara had answered him as soon as he pulled her close, and it was within that new closeness that she had felt a brief moment of...What exactly was it? It made absolutely no sense that this hold could have been familiar to her, and she nearly scrunched her nose at the thought. "That would be the typical sort of game for anyone else who had decided to come to an event like this, but in case you haven't noticed just yet, I'm not quite typical." She spoke her last words as if they were a secret themselves, and she couldn't help the small smile that lifted to her lips as she immediately fell into each step that he had led her in - drifting back to a very long time ago when balls had been the norm, and she had been expected to mingle with the town's most eligible bachelors for the sake of her father's sanity.

"And maybe it is a confidant that I'm searching for... But could that not be found in any one person here? If I was searching for a confidant, I could have easily went off and found them on my own. It seems that you are the one searching for something, darling..." Clara spoke carefully as she had looked up at him, immediately feeling him draw her closer than before, but she hadn't pulled herself away from his hold. It was that same closeness that was just as intriguing to her - more than she would have liked to admit. Almost the ghost of an embrace that she could have remembered in the past... Without quite being able to remember it entirely.

"What are you looking for this evening? Something must have sparked your curiosity to approach someone who clearly hadn't wanted to be bothered this evening -- and yet, here we are, aren't we?"

[Leave the hurt behind] Raijinslayer x Earlymorninstar [18+]

He had seemed so damn sure of himself this time, hadn't he? The way he had met her gaze, speaking with that same conviction that was so difficult to find fault in, Clara had wanted to be swayed by him. She wanted to believe him and be able to say with absolute sincerity that she could avoid anything Asmodeus might throw her way, but a the day, that certainty wasn't entirely there. She would try, absolutely she would try if it was worth it at the end of the day, and yet that fact still lingered between them. He promised that there would be no more lies and deception, but did that mean things would still be alright between them? Things couldn't quite go back to the way they were - where the most that happened between them was a good argument here or there, the usual banter, and an occasional night out. Now, she knew his secrets, and he knew her own weaknesses more than he had when he had first met her.

There was a long moment of silence between them as Clara seemed to mull over everything before she had decided to speak. "Alright, Jaden..." She began with a small sigh, moving to fall back into her pillows before she glanced up to her ceiling. The sheets had been shifted and pulled around her more securely as she closed her eyes for a moment. She was still rather exhausted due to the evening's activities, and although feeding from Jaden had replenished her in a way, she still had felt worn. "We'll get passed it..." She murmured. It may take some time, she still wasn't terribly as certain as she would have liked to be, but she supposed she had to figure it out. She wasn't sure what Asmodeus could have wanted from her, and perhaps she would have to push aside that selfishness in order to appease Jaden, no matter how difficult it might be.

At least she would try...

[Leave the hurt behind] Raijinslayer x Earlymorninstar [18+]

His initial confirmation that he at least understood her apology had not been as comforting as she could have hoped. She lingered close to him, her face still buried in the crook of his neck for only a moment longer as Jaden began to speak, and she found herself returning to where she initially was on the bed. Clara had adjusted the sheets around her as she listened to his words, to the acknowledgement that he had done her wrong and in turn had caused her to practically jump at the first opportunity to get him back for the pain he had caused. Again, that acknowledgement hadn't made her feel as great as she could have supposed, but at least he realized the error he had made... Should she have known the truth long ago, perhaps it would have been an easier pill to swallow. Now, centuries later, it felt as if the floor had been pulled from beneath him. For him to cover up every bit of it for so long, and the fact that he'd done such a perfect job at it, it had her trust in him entirely shaken.

Clara knew she hadn't made things easy between the two of them over time -- it was easier to push someone away then it was to let them in, and it was that belief that had her arguing with him on more than one occasion. Should she push him away, then he couldn't hurt her. Oh, how terribly mistaken she was, since he had managed to weasel that pain right in without her having an inkling of a warning.

She had shifted and sunk into her pillows, feeling her back press against the headboard behind her. Honestly, Clara hadn't expected the sheer amount of guilt that weighed down onto her shoulders even then. She had thought he would have stormed off, would have left her after his own realization, but there he remained, still wrapped in her sheets, wrapping his mind around everything that had happened over the past couple of days and taking the blame where blame was due, even though she had her own amount of blame to carry. She had only glanced to him when she saw him fall back into the mass of sheets, the frown falling on her lips as he continued his self-reflection that had turned into a sudden acknowledgement that had left her almost flinching at the way he'd quickly risen, the way he had placed his hand on her shoulder which had forced her gaze onto his own.

He had spoken with such conviction, that it was hard not to believe him all at once. The way his gaze had bore into her own as he made such promises, she wanted terribly to believe him but... Clara had swallowed the small lump in her throat as she listened to him, unsure of if he would be able to keep those promises. Clearly, up until now, he hadn't been able to in the least. He'd not protected her, but then again, she had allowed the evening before. She tossed herself up, regardless of the risks, for a selfish night in order to get back at Jaden. Now, when he so adamantly wanted her to stay away from Asmodeus, no matter what the cost, she wasn't entirely certain that she could keep that promise. In the moment, the way he seemed so passionate in his resolve, it was easy to absolutely want to promise him everything, apologize profusely for what she'd done, knowing full well it was wrong... But then there was that selfish side that ached for that touch once more, and should she be provoked... She wasn't terribly certain she would be able to deny him.

There was a split moment of hesitancy, one that she hoped Jaden hadn't noticed. She licked her lips for a brief second as she had mulled over her answer. Could she avoid Asmodeus as Jaden had requested in an effort to help him protect her? "I-- I promise." Clara had answered, her voice quiet and almost defeated in her answer. That frown remained on her lips as she watched him, still unsure that he could even uphold the promises that he'd laid out before her. She'd learned a long, long time ago that she couldn't trust anyone and it would be an uphill battle to bring herself to believe Jaden. "I just..." Clara sighed quietly as she looked down to her lap. "No more lies, Jaden... I can't stand any more of it, and I think you know that." She lifted her gaze back to his, the frown still curled about her lips.

[Paper Faces on Parade] Dylan x Early [18+]

Clara was not the type to dance, nor socialize... Or even entertain a gentleman who had dared approach her despite the fact that she had looked so terribly alone, and yet there she was, wasn't she? She should have given him the usual cold shoulder, told him to fuck off and leave her be much like she typically did with anyone who thought they were worth the time of day. She had been alone for a reason -- one that she didn't feel like sharing with anyone let alone a stranger who could only hope for a dance that could potentially lead into a night of quick relief before they moved on to the next. She was there at that party, without the need to be present, willing herself to be invisible to the rest of the room so she could have a few drinks until she could either leave on her own or Christian would deem it the right time to end the evening. But this one -- this one had seen her entirely and no matter how eager she could have been to dismiss herself, her curiosity had become increasingly more important.

He had not been put off by the way she spoke, the hint of sarcasm and potential irritation in the cold chill of her voice had still been quite intentional. Rather, he had not missed a beat in introducing himself after his little charming comment. Where Clara could have hoped that a name to a face hidden behind a mask could have even mildly sated her wonder, his name still had not been entirely familiar, at least, not as much as she had been hoping it would. Her painted lips had pursed in the slightest over that disappointment, almost too focused on analyzing just what had felt so.., different about this one, to realize he had extended his hand to offer the wine he had promised.

"...Pleasure's all mine," Clara had mumured softly even then. Niceties perhaps. Old habits and etiquette still lingered despite herself; despite the fact that her personality had become soured with a few centuries long bitterness. There had been a a delayed moment, a mere second as her gaze focused solely upon what could lie beyond that mask as if that would be the missing piece to the puzzle. Clara had seemed to catch herself, however, as she realized the glass had still been lingering in the air, and she had reached out to gingerly accept it.

She lifted it immediately to her lips as Maximillian spoke again and she had to contain the urge to breathe the sigh that was welling within her chest. Such lovely words for someone wishing so eagerly for a dance-- empty words that Clara had learned not to believe in time. It was words like those that had gotten her into this mess so long ago. Words that had began it all.

As he had extended his hand towards her, Clara had eyed it for a second, cautious in her decision that hadn't quite been made just yet. She had accepted his wine and therefore she should at least agree to one dance, but part of her was hesitant on that brief moment of contact. She was alone for a reason. Should she close to take a leap of faith in order to fulfill her curiosity, which held the very real possibility of remaining unsatisfied, then who knew where she could end up? It was easier to avoid them altogether than it was to appease them.

She had swallowed a bit of the wine that still lingered in her mouth before she set the glass aside next to her empty one. Something within her knew full well that she shouldn't while another part of her craved the thrill, wanting to know why in the hell the man before her seemed to be the ghost of something she couldn't quite explain? So Clara had jumped the ledge, her thin hand slipping carefully into his own as she would allow herself to be pulled along towards the dance floor if he so wished.

For curiosity's sake, of course.

"You'd be surprised," Clara began as she still looked at him as if he were uncharted territory, something forbidden that she wanted to dissect. "The lonely tend to be that way for their own reasons -- and you'll find that the same tend to have a plethora of stories in their isolation. Something had to be the cause of their despair, no?" She tilted her head, almost amused at her own words - as if she knew a secret that he would never come to know. "But, prey tell. What makes you think that is be willing to share such tales with a stranger?"

@Dylan

[Paper Faces on Parade] Dylan x Early [18+]

Clara didn't quite know what to do with herself, pressed to the far corner of the ballroom as near to the bar as she could get without the blatant show that she had perched herself there for a quick glass or two. It seemed the only comfort she could find in the evening was the ever-flowing liquor that she'd only just delved into moments before. Once Christian had parted from her, she had been left to her own devices, mulling over the possibilities of escape without her companion realizing that she was soon gone. Her gaze flickered across dancing couples, small groups laughing over lame stories about their humdrum days in producing their riches, the occasional stray that seemed hell bent on drowning themselves in drink that evening. It was a different night full of familiar faces – at least, familiar scenarios. Everything was so very predictable that she hardly wanted to be a part of it. How could she, when she had far better things to be doing other than trying to entertain a partner or two in the hopes of possibly getting lucky and then sending them on their way? Nothing was of interest to her; nothing could have caught her attention when her attention was focused elsewhere in the bitter corners of her mind, unable to let go of something that had happened so very long ago with little sign to any resolution in the near future.

A sigh had fallen from her painted lips as she lifted her glass to savor the last sip of wine that had lingered for far too long. Why the hell Christian had decided to bring her along despite her protests had truly been beyond her understanding. No matter how many times he had pulled her from their home, she would inevitably dig her heels into the ground for each and every step, attempting to make it just as miserable for him as it was for her. She had to hand it to him, despite all of her shortcomings and her incessant need to drive him up the wall, he still persisted in trying to fix her. He still had held onto that shred of hope that one day Clara could be restored to what she once was, but it was a fool's quest entirely. The girl that she used to be centuries before had been lost, broken and scattered across the shore that she was left at, and even if he could have collected each and every piece that had been discarded, she still wouldn't look the same, let alone feel the same. And even so – even if Clara could very well go back to how she used to be, she would never dare. That girl was weak, so terribly consumed with the thought of something better, that she had been ignorant to the truth before her. They were all liars, and it was much easier to push everyone away than it was to let them in – she couldn't get hurt if she refused to let them in…

Clara had frowned as her thoughts had lingered down that twisting path for far too long. She had been staring off, focusing on the many people passing her by and yet not entirely seeing them in the process. Her now empty glass had been brought against her shoulder as she rested her elbow atop her other crossed arm about her chest. She had not noticed the man that had approached her until it was far too late, her hazel eyes narrowing in the slightest as she had focused upon Maximillian. The first thing she had noticed was his white attire, so very bold compared to the usual black tuxedos that most men wore to these things. It was typically up to their partner to add a splash of color and flare to their outfits – after all, they would be on their arm for the entire evening like a mere accessory. She'd been nearly picking his appearance apart piece by piece before she had heard his voice, yet had not entirely heard his request immediately.

There had been something about his tone – something terribly familiar as he stood there before her and it was almost as if the answer were just out of her grasp. Clara had watched him carefully as he spoke, taking in each little nuance as he ran his fingers through his hair. She was certain she hadn't met him before. She'd noticed the cane in his hand apart from the glass of wine that he had offered her and it only solidified her assumptions. She would have remembered someone like him… But there was a nagging feeling in the back of her skull, drilling away at her own urge to immediately dismiss him. She needed to know more at least to sate her own curiosity.

"I suppose when a glass of wine is being held for ransom, a girl can't quite refuse, now can she?" Clara spoke quietly, her tone soft and almost delicate, with that hint of a chill that had been creeping up on her throughout the centuries. Perhaps she could satisfy her curiosity over a dance, realize it must have been a mere coincidence – that the man before her could have reminded her of someone in passing, and then she could be rid of him just as quickly as a glass of wine. It seemed like a plan for now; she could play the part of a doting female eager to dance with a masked stranger for at least a little while longer. She turned to place her empty glass down on the same table he had, her head tilting in that mild curiosity as she seemed to look him over once more. "The name's Clara…" She offered quietly, unsure if she should extend her hand in the usual niceties exchanged or not. For now, she brushed another stray curl out of her vision, tucking it away behind her ear. "And might I ask of your own, or do you intend to hold that for ransom as well?"

@Dylan

[Paper Faces on Parade] Dylan x Early [18+]

I still remember the world
From the eyes of a child…
Slowly those feelings
Were clouded by what I know now…

Memories –

They could be such wonderful things just as much as they could become torturous and repetitive. They could either send a person into euphoria, remembering all that was once overwhelming in delight, or they could come crashing down around them in the never-ending waves of pain that continued to dig through open wounds. They'd been few and far – the good memories, all the while the others were overbearing and would never seem to fade no matter how much she'd tried to fight them; no matter how much she'd lied to herself in an effort to alter them; to get her to believe in something altogether different. Perhaps a lie would help her sleep throughout the rest of her nights into her days. Perhaps that lie would bring her some peace.

If only she could make herself believe in it.

What had been left in the wake of that memory was the shell of a girl that she once was. No more was she the sweet, young woman whom only sought out to make her dreams a reality throughout the demanding world of her father – that girl had been long gone, murdered and her pieces scattered throughout the warm sand of the shore that she'd once been left upon. What had been left behind was a bitter young female intent on causing hell wherever she'd gone. If she had to suffer each and every night in her own personal hell, then she was committed to making others around her feel her pain. Perhaps it had been much to the dismay of her own tutor whom had taken her in – she'd taking a liking to personally torment him with how difficult she'd become. Eventually, she'd assumed, he would leave her just as quick as she once was left – and she was determined to push him as far away as she could.

It only frustrated her further that he continued to stay – and not only that, but doted on her to try and make her as happy as she once was. He should have understood, at least by then, that it was a lost cause.

She could hardly help it. Clara Emerson was once a young girl of privilege, trapped in a society that forced its beliefs and patterns upon her. Had it been up to them, she would have been married to whoever held the best title and whoever could secure a future for herself and her own family. Love was not an option – hell, even friendship was hardly an option. If love did form out of the marriage between the two, it was either out of sheer luck or simply dealing with one another for long enough that something eventually fell into place.

The years had come and gone and Clara had hardly given anyone the time of day. There was no one suitable enough for her; no one that she could share her passions with; share her dreams. She'd wanted to travel the world; wanted to see much of what was out there instead of being locked up as someone's silent wife, reproducing on a whim to keep the family strong and full. She did not want to be trapped in her own hell of a home with a man whom she did not and could not love – a man who would snuff out her dreams the very moment they'd said their vows.

That was not a future that she'd wanted, and Clara had fought it tooth and nail until her father was no longer able to bend to her whims. It was already bad enough that she'd reached 18 and had yet to marry – the people in town had begun to talk and it eventually found its way upon her father's ear. There had been rumors that she must have been barren – that no man had wanted a wife that old, especially one who could not produce the heir to the family. There were also rumors that she'd been mad – lost away in a fantasy world of her books and library – what man would want a woman who sought out more knowledge than he had known himself? Or maybe it was that she was just a rotten female, one who could not keep the company of whichever man sought to have her hand. Regardless of the rumor, regardless of how harsh they could be, her father would soon have none of that nonsense floating around his family name.

It was only a matter of time before her borrowed time would come to an end – she could see him unraveling, coming undone right before her very eyes before he'd lost his patience with her one last time.

"You listen to me, girl. I've given you ample time – I've given you every little thing your heart desires and yet you still do not take a husband. I know you hear them – everyone out there talking about you, talking about me! This cannot go on any longer, Clara. You will allow the Duke to court you come morning, and you will marry him – You have no choice. Do you want to continue destroying our family name? He will be able to provide for you, and in turn, the family will be secure in our own future as well. Do you understand?! "

Clara had understood full well. She'd understood that the world around her was collapsing with each panicked breath that left her chest the moment her father had walked out of that room. She was fully aware of what was to meet her the next morning; of what life was promised should she marry that awful man. She'd nearly felt her heart fall from her chest and onto the floor in front of her as she fought to calm herself from the inevitable fear and panic of what the future held for her. It was nothing that she wanted, and she needed to run – she needed to get far away from it, from her father, from everyone who could say anything about her. Let them talk in her absence, but she would never allow them to say it to her face.

Where has my heart gone?
An uneven trade for the real world
Oh I… I want to go back to
Believing in everything and knowing nothing at all…

It was within that fright and overwhelming anxiety that Clara found herself in her room in an instant, packing whatever she could into a bag. Clothes, jewelry, anything that might hold some sentimental value that she did not want to leave behind. She hadn't a plan or idea in the world what she was doing – all she knew was that she needed to get away, and fast. The quicker she ran, the farther she could get without her father sending someone out to fetch her. She was aware of the dangers of running; of the risk she put herself at – a mere young girl out in the darkness of the night with hardly an idea on how to defend herself, whether it be from creature or man. She'd no idea where she was going or where she was going to end up – she just knew that she needed to vanish..

Little did she know, it really would be the last time she'd spoken to her father or her family.

Her quick steps had led her through the chill of the night under cover of her cloak. She'd ran without taking a break- the loud sounds of her heels echoing against the cobblestone with each hurried step, the only sounds that reached her ears. There were others, eventually tumbling out of the taverns late at night; others who had been left to rot in the alleyways, unable to fend for themselves any longer. There were others who could have seen her as a piece of meat, and perhaps would have gone after her had the drunken few not been around.

Clara had ignored them all.

Her steps had eventually led her to softer ground, soon the calming sounds of the ocean against her ears instead of the offending drunkards and whistles of the night. It was here that she'd finally stopped; finally had taken a breath regardless of the fact that her lungs had felt as if they'd ignited in flames.

It was here that she'd made the worst decision of her life.

Clara hadn't noticed him at first – she'd felt entirely overwhelmed by not only the decision that she'd just made on a whim, but the sudden uncertainty of what was to come. She'd felt the tears pull at the corner of her eyes as she brushed them away fervently. She'd barely felt herself head even closer to the dark waters ahead before her shoes had slipped off and she felt the cold around her feet; felt the water dragging down the edges of her skirts.

It had been his touch that had awoken her from her stupor, the sudden gentle hand against her back almost only there to startle her into the present once more. And oddly enough, she hadn't run – no, she'd done enough running then, Clara realized. Something had kept her planted there, the sand shifting beneath her feet just as each wave came up around her toes. She'd known nothing of the mistakes that she'd already made that night – all of it seemed so very far away just as suddenly as that man had entered into her life.

What had followed still had her questioning its reality centuries down the road. The conversations; the comfort – something about the male had her calm and forgetful of her sudden fears; he made her believe it would all be alright; that her decision to run had not been as much of a mistake as it had been a gift.

Hours had felt like minutes upon that beach – basking in each other's presence, her wonder almost child-like over the man who seemed to want to stay within her company more than any other from the town whom had wanted to court her. Where had he been all of this time she'd been worrying; panicking about the future her father would force upon her? Was he even real – or had this all been a hopeful dream that she'd been thrust into after the exhaustion of her father's revelation?

Words had eventually melted into actions – everything she could have ever hoped for had been there, in him. Perhaps that was why she was able to give herself over so freely – why it hadn't even been a mere doubt in her mind – the passion suddenly between them. She could remember the euphoria, remember the feel of the heat between them, the sand against her skin, the absolute abandon that she'd felt with him all at once – and yet, she also could remember the sudden pain that melted into all of it – and the sudden sense of absolute loneliness and fear once she did awake in someone else's arms.

I still remember the sun
Always warm on my back.
Somehow it seems colder now…

If her tutor had not been around that night, she knew her existence would have been short. Clara would have either died on the beach that night, victim to her own new hunger and the incapability to satiate it the way she needed to. She would have gone back into that down and ripped it apart person by person if she'd been allowed to – until someone had destroyed her just as quickly… But he'd been there for her; there to pick her up and take her in; train her the way she needed to be trained… But it just never was what she'd needed – nothing could fill the ache that she'd always felt lingering in her soul – something had been missing after that night and it was the one thing her tutor could never give her.

-

Clara felt a slow sigh fall from her painted lips as she looked up at the mansion ahead of her. Soft music was already lifting through opened windows and doors and she'd felt her body tense. Another night of endless parties that her tutor had dragged her along to. Perhaps he'd thought the interactions with others would cheer her up. All that these parties had continued to do was remind her of the void within her. No matter how many dances she'd partaken in; no matter how many mindless conversations or glasses of wine to warm her – nothing would put an end to that damned ache within her – no matter how much she'd tried to make others feel it; no matter how much she tried to make them suffer like she had… No one understood.

Her bright green eyes glared upon the offending house as she felt her tutor's arm slip into hers. "Come now, darling. Try to enjoy yourself tonight." His words were soft against her ear, but she hadn't looked at him. She'd merely taken one step in a time as he'd led her to the front doors. "Fuck off..." Clara spoke with a hiss, receiving only a sigh from the man next to her.

She knew it was bound to happen, but her tutor had eventually broken away from her and she was thankful for it. She'd made a beeline to find a glass of wine, weaving through the multiple colors of skirts and suits that had been so happily chattering and dancing away. Masquerades hadn't necessarily been her thing – hell, parties weren't entirely her thing – but at least here she could play the part. Here, she could be whomever she wanted, hiding behind a black mask of lace. There were plenty of strangers here, plenty of people she could manipulate if she'd wanted to – it would be a game of cat and mouse.

As Clara found a glass, she'd lifted the dark liquid to her lips slowly, her steps taking her towards one of the far walls to observe the crowds around her. She'd idly toyed with the emerald silk of her skirts which had only brightened her hazel eyes as they took on the green of the fabric, the beading that lined her corset, before her fingers found their way to the emerald pendant around her neck - a large, uncut stone hanging from a strip of black lace. Why it remained there was truly beyond her; why she hadn't tossed it into the ocean that night was more of a mystery to her than anything. He'd left it for her – the only damn thing she had left of that one night that had changed everything. He'd stolen it all from her; her life, her innocence, her dreams – and left only a god damn necklace in his wake. If she had it her way; if her tutor would cease all of this nonsense in trying to distract her, she would search for him during every waking moment; she would make him fucking pay for the hell that he'd made her live; for the broken promises; for all of the pain he'd caused her.

The frown continued to curl against her lips as she took in the sights and shoved a stray, brown and caramel curl that had fallen from how her hair had been pinned in an elaborate up-do, out of her face. The loud music upon her ears as she'd watched countless bodies swirl and bend to the music in sync. It was going to be one hell of a long night… And she needed to find some form of entertainment should she choose to stay.

Where has my heart gone
Trapped in the eyes of a stranger
Oh I... I want to go back to
Believing in everything.​

@Dylan

[Leave the hurt behind] Raijinslayer x Earlymorninstar [18+]

Clara didn't exactly know what to expect from Jaden now that the truth had hung on the air between them. What had seemed like a magnificent idea the evening before, now seemed quite foolish as she had to actually say out loud what she had done and why she had done it. Perhaps it really was a bad idea, but other than how it could have effected Jaden, she couldn't see anything further that was so terribly horrible. Sure, she had been selfish. She had wanted another night like the one at the club, no matter what the cost. She had wanted that attention, no matter how false it really was. She understood how addicting his touch was - every single sensation had been something she had never felt before and she almost lusted for it in her own way - Jaden had only managed to push her towards Asmodeus with his own damn lies. The realization that she was worth practically nothing, even to her sire who she had grown to hate with every fiber of her being. The realization that the only reason Jaden had taken her in, in the first place was because she had reminded him of his dead wife... All of her insecurities had been brought to light and only amplified the evening before. Sure, she should have simply ignored Asmodeus - she should have pushed it all aside and drank her night away like she usually would, but it was just so damn tempting to make Jaden hurt as much as she did in that moment.

But now... It wasn't so appealing.

Clara had braced herself for the yelling and reprimanding that she could have almost hoped would come... But she had suddenly felt deflated when his words hadn't come out the way that she had anticipated. She stared at him for only a moment as he spoke before she looked away from him, unable to see that betrayal and hurt that she had wanted to see so horribly, on his features. The guilt that was within her had only built itself higher. He had not yelled at her - no, yelling at her probably would have been the easy way out. Clara could have taken his shouting, could have yelled and screamed on her own, and been able to storm off feeling satisfied with herself. What Jaden had done now had only made her feel regret although a part of her wanted to fight back. She wanted to tell him he was wrong; that she knew full well what she was doing. But the fact of the matter still remained - she had no idea what she was getting into when it came to Asmodeus. All she understood was that he knew exactly how to make her feel the things she wanted to, and that had been good enough for her. Clara had felt that she had nothing to lose, especially the evening before, but now as Jaden still remained in her bed and had seemed only to warn her about Asmodeus, she wasn't so sure.

She couldn't look at him, even as the silence gripped them both. Her gaze focused only on her own skin, on her sheets, on the room around them - anything to keep her from seeing the judgement in his gaze. His words had grown harsher, and she almost wanted to scoff at his chiding, but she knew better... He knew more of Asmodeus than she ever would, and she would be ignorant to blow off his warning. And yet - what did it matter anymore? Why the hell could Jaden even care what happened to her - if she decided to take absolute advantage of the attention she was given? So what if she would be lost to it all - at least then she would have a bit more closure to her life and would have gone out the way she wanted to, instead of being trapped and forced to live as he had made her when she once begged for death.

Still, his words had made her flinch as she listened to the tone of his voice. Did she understand? "Fine - Yes... I get it..." Her words were reluctant even then, quiet despite herself. Clara had only glanced his way for a moment, cautious in her choice of words - afraid to even speak as if all of this was going to lead up into the yelling that she thought she was going to get. "Look... I'm sorry." She murmured, although it might have fallen on empty ears as she pulled her legs up to her chest, making sure to still keep her sheet around herself. That guilt hadn't faded and she had a feeling that it wouldn't for quite some time. She frowned as she looked down to the top of her covered knees with a quiet sigh to herself. Fuck- what could she expect, really? That she would wake up that morning and feel absolutely great about what she'd done? Now, she felt like an absolute piece of shit and the fact that Jaden still remained had only made her feel worse.

But what had eventually pushed her even further over the edge of that guilt was when she had heard his command and had looked up to see his head tilted - waiting for her to finally drink from him. He must have realized she'd been hungry; or he'd assumed considering the events of the evening before, she wasn't certain. But, part of her had wanted to decline. Part of her had wanted to distance herself from him at least for now - figure it out on her own and find someone to feed on in town. But she knew better than that - Jaden probably wouldn't let her. The frown was still on her lips as she only cautiously scooted close to him, the reluctance written in every move that she made. Even so, she closed the distance between them and hesitated - almost not wanting to touch him in her own guilt that flurried around her like a snowstorm. Still, her hunger had taken over in moments and she bared her fangs before biting into his neck -- drinking slowly as she needed. It was only after she was finished that her tongue had slid gently over the wound she had created, but she hadn't pulled away just yet. "...I really am sorry." Her words were quiet and cautious against the crook of his neck even then.

DELETE

Bump.