[center]Clara wasn’t quite sure what to expect, and it had been a bit brash and careless to yell out as she had. No; she knew better than that. Lord, Christian had taught her endlessly how to act, how to be stealthy, how to take care of herself and all because something was setting her off, she’d thrown caution to the wind. Her hands dropped to her sides as she had turned to face the steps that led towards the beach, a frown falling upon her lips as she peered into the darkness to try and get a glimpse of who was lingering so far away. The breeze suddenly felt like electricity on her skin and she nearly shivered at the adrenaline suddenly pulsing through her. 

This was no normal person just ahead of her,  she understood that... But, it couldn’t be who she thought it might be; who she truly [i]knew[/i] it would be although she continued to deny the possibility. He wouldn’t be so stupid. Hell, he wouldn’t be so foolish to show himself after all of that time and expect a warm welcome. No; he was gone long ago, she knew that. 

Yet, as both figures appeared on the beach and his voice suddenly fell upon her ears, it was as if something had suddenly awakened within her; something that had died so very long ago and she’d forgotten about. 

And it only pissed her off. 

It felt as if her blood had run thin over that tone of voice; each note carrying along the wind, not lost to the crashing waves around her. Her lips had parted at the sudden surprise; the sheer shock that this man had the sheer audacity to suddenly appear -- after all of those fucking years. And, no matter how many times she’d played this scene over and over again in her mind and in her dreams, nothing prepared her for this very moment. 

She slowly took one step, then two, carefully watching him, studying him, taking him in as if he would suddenly evaporate and she would wake up from one of those never-ending nightmares that only added to her anger. Her steps came to an immediate stop when she’d seen the figure behind him and her eyes narrowed for a moment longer. 

“Who the [i]fuck[/i] do you think you are?” Clara suddenly hissed, her hands balling into little fists at her sides. If he did remember much of her at all, he had killed that sweet girl so very long ago. In her place was a bitter, angry female who wanted nothing more than to rip him to pieces one at a time. She wanted to make him feel every single ounce of pain and desertion that he’d left her with. She wanted him to writhe beneath her and beg for mercy.  Of course - whomever he brought with him would pose a problem for her, as it would not be easy with another one in the way. 

“You [i]dare[/i] to show your face after all of these years? And you don’t even have the sheer [i]decency[/i] to come alone?” She spat out. “Need someone else to fight your battles as well?” He clearly needed someone to take care of his [i]mistakes[/i] for him. Clearly he wasn’t man enough to confront her all on his own. 

Christian better stay the hell home or she’d make sure he’d get caught in the crossfire as well... [/center]