[center] “Fuck!” Clara bit out as his hand collided with her collarbone. She’d still straightened up and was able to jump over his swiped leg before returning another punch of her own. She couldn’t give up and she wouldn’t give up. She’d continue to fight him until the day she died, she knew it. He’d done no good by her all of these years - every time she thought about that night, she’d obsessed over every detail. She’d wondered if she’d done anything wrong; if she’d been the cause of his sudden departure. At one moment it was so perfect - she hadn’t expected what would have happened only moments later and she was such a fool for falling for all of it. He’d lured her in, had his way, and tossed her aside. And there they were -- how many centuries later and it just so happened that he showed up again with little to no remorse? No, he wouldn’t feel any remorse, would he? He’d so easily forgotten and moved on to another - her [i]replacement[/i] - and they strutted so openly in front of her. 

At the thought, Clara had growled as she headed towards him again, determined to make him suffer and make him simply [i]feel[/i]. His words were only reassurance. Kieran would never understand, just as Christian could never understand what she felt. But god damnit, Kieran was [i]supposed[/i] to understand - he was [i]supposed[/i] to make it go away! That’s how all of this worked, she was sure of it! 

She became blind to everything around her - her attention focused only on her prey before her, filled with the growing determination to cause him more pain. If anyone had noticed their fight, she could care less. If Ryanair tried to intervene, she would take it out on him too. Christian had probably known better - even if he decided to come looking, he couldn’t intervene. She’d given him plenty of what-for’s in the past over interrupting anything she’d gotten involved in. 

Her attention remained focused on Kieran as she came after him once more, however, she was caught off guard at he’d suddenly grabbed her. She’d felt his chest against her back and right away she’d tried to pull away from his despite his hold on her arm. “Let me go you son of a bitch!” Clara growled, still trying to loosen his grip on her. Her fangs remained bared as she fought against him, not caring if anyone had heard them at that point. Bastard - he couldn’t win this one... [/center][@Arista]