[center]Shit - she didn’t want to hear the words coming out of his mouth. A sense of dread hit her as she still squirmed in his grasp and she continued to fight to get free. No reason nor excuse could ever be what she wanted to hear and she was terribly frightened of the truth. To speculate why he could have left was one thing, but to hear it directly from the source was an entirely different thing. Even though Clara truly did want to know, she was terrified of the cold truth - so she resisted. She became almost desperate in that resistance, growing almost more upset and emotional than angry and it continued to build the more he held onto her and wouldn’t let her go. 

“I don’t want to hear it!” Clara continued to struggle, trying to cut him short before he could get anything out further. “I was a goddamn mistake and I know it. Why the [i]hell[/i] would you show back up?” She continued, but her eyes were shut tight. He wouldn’t let her go no matter how much she refused to settle and she couldn’t deal with that. By now Christian would have even let her go; he would have known to just leave her alone and let her run like she’d so terribly wanted to. She wanted to shut herself away from it; from him. 

She’d felt his breath against her skin and it almost made her want to yank away - put as much distance between them as she could, but his grip was firm. Clara swallowed the small lump in her throat at the sudden feeling shooting through her and she still refused to open her eyes. However, her body slowly stilled- wanting to ignore all of those memories; all of those feelings. She’d played that night over and over again - he’d been a solution that she’d looked for. He’d been her way out and he’d met her with just as much desperation as she’d met him. Something about it just felt -- right; Any of her fears of running away had all been settled under his touch. All of her concerns and worries had been silenced by his lips... 

And then he was gone, and she was left with the most awful ache and void that she could never stitch no matter how large the needle. 

Clara had almost stilled entirely, her hands dropping weakly to her sides as she frowned, unable to hide from the feeling that surged through her at the mere touch of his lips against her skin and she nearly whimpered in defeat. “You did more than just fuck up.” She spoke quietly then, un-moving and unable to swallow the lump that remained in her throat. “You broke me.” 

There came a long pause as she still didn’t move. “Just let me go...”  She felt deflated; defeated -- and she needed to run. She needed to be alone and she needed to be away from it all. All of the years of trying to push it down; trying to rid herself of the ache and need -- suddenly it had risen from the dead all from the mere touch of his lips against her neck. She didn’t want to give him that control... [/center] [@Arista]