[IC] [Beneath a moonless sky] 18+ [Arista x Earlymorninstar]

[earlymorninstar]

Part of Clara had been relieved to be back, moreso realizing nothing terrible had happened in their absence. Then there was another part of her who was reluctant to stand beyond those doors again. She knew she couldn’t very well leave… Not right now; not when she had even more unanswered questions that Ryanair had evoked. Was it worth it? Clara wasn’t sure… But she could at least linger long enough to find out, and then perhaps she would go. What was the point of her being around in the first place? All she’d managed to do was save him on more than one occasion. Other than that -- she still felt out of place. It was her own doing, she knew -- she had a moment with Ryanair and then reality had come crashing down and that was all it was: A moment that had faded just as quickly, because really, she apparently didn’t deserve to have a moment of calm.

Clara blinked a bit out of surprise when the books were lifted from her hold, especially since she was hardly paying attention in the first place. It was easy to guess where her mind could have been, both her and Ryanair were terribly on edge with what had happened, both thrust right back into the past where it all began. She didn’t fully know his story, but she could only assume that it was hardly pleasant…

When her own books were given back, Clara had offered a little nod as she held them to her chest before finally breaking off from the group to head into the kitchen. She hadn’t quite looked to the others who were there, nor did she offer any sort of conversation. Her attention was focused only on the glass that she plucked from the cabinet once her books were placed down, and the bottle of white wine that she grabbed immediately thereafter. She struggled with the cork for a moment, but once it was removed, she grabbed her books and carefully grabbed her glass before she turned to leave the kitchen. Where she wanted to go- well, she wasn’t certain, but she had soon heard the soft tones of music from below and the frown on her lips grew deeper.

Inevitably, she found herself in the study where she sunk into a rather large chair, her back against one arm while her legs were soon propped over the other. She placed her books in her lap before she poured a rather large amount of wine into her glass. The bottle had been placed on the floor and she took a long sip before tilting her head back to look at the ceiling. She wasn’t happy with the emotions surging through her; wasn’t happy with the way things had gone as of late… But she knew sleep would not meet her anytime soon, and if it did, it wouldn’t last terribly long…

@Arista

[Arista]

Playing usually helped him calm down, now as his fingers flew across the keys he felt nothing but panic. He felt the ice-cold of the rain on his skin and the pain that raced down his body, the laughter echoing In his ears as his fingers continued to dance across black and white keys.

Stupid brat. A voice filtered across his mind, his shoulders hunching forward. His eyes screwed shut as phantom blows struck him again and again, the ice-cold of the rain falling into open cuts. The blonde stills and a strangled sound escaped his lips as the memories he worked so hard to bury in his mind resurfaced like a tidal wave. He curled into himself on the bench of the piano, his head tucked against his knees as sobs racked his body.

Naive aren't you? Sad really. Another voice teased across his mind, his hands curling into claws as his mind submerges into his past. He can't fight it and really he knows it would hurt if he did, his eyes squeezed shut as he allowed it. His chest ached and a hand reached out to grip the front of his shirt.

@earlymorninstar

[earlymorninstar]

The sound of the piano had continued to drift on the air for quite a while, a welcome distraction to the thoughts that continued to plague her. No matter how many times she had numbed it with whatever vice she could find, no matter how much she had managed to store away deep inside, how she could have closed old wounds, it seemed suddenly everything was brought to light once more, taunting her as she knew it would take just as long to fight against now as it had before. The frown remained deeply set on Clara's lips before she had taken another large drink from her glass, wanting to polish the bottle off as quick as she could so she could rush the effects the wine always had on her mind. She yearned for that familiar numbness, the warm sensation that would wash over her and inevitably make her forget just for a fleeting moment until the nightmares reached her again.

She had tried to focus on at least one of the books in her lap. She'd opened it to the first page, staring down at the written words as if they were some foreign language, something she couldn't entirely comprehend no matter how much she tried. She would get through a sentence or two, find herself submerged in word, but then suddenly realize that she'd no idea what she had just read. It was all a frustrating cycle that she couldn't entirely break and it only pushed her to drink her wine quicker.

The absence of his music suddenly had been almost deafening to Clara's ears and amidst her frustration of trying to read, she couldn't help but hone in on the fact that he no longer had been playing. She knew she could ignore it; go back to trying to distract herself but then again, she understood that he must have been going through at least something similar to what she was. He too, had memories awakened by all of this – had to relive every bit of how he had been changed, and she could have easily assumed that it would hardly be pleasant.

Frustrated at her own acknowledgement and the sudden urge to find out if, perhaps, he was alright (she at least owed him that much for telling her even a bit about the night that still remained much of a mystery to her), she had shoved her books aside to land on the floor next to her chair. With a little huff, Clara had leaned down to pick up her bottle, her glass still in her free hand before she had straightened and immediately was headed out of the room and towards where she had heard him playing.

Once there, however, her frown returned as Clara eyed him, nearly curled within himself. Breathing a slow sigh she stepped forward carefully, and without invitation, had sat on the bench of the piano next to him, her hand outstretched to offer her glass of wine that had been refilled. "I know it's probably not the… best of options, but it does help…" She murmured, looking between the glass and him for a long moment.

@Arista