( ╳┃forliiberty )

        ( the female’s movements were brash and ultimately spontaneous; 
           quickly gripping the taller, heavier built assassin by the nape of his collar,
           hoping to pull him away from the scrutinous gaze of the public, and into a
           secluded alley-way. Fitzroy was a known revolutionist after all, and didn’t
           need to have her presence known in Finkton just yet.  But seeing as the
           female easily a foot shorter, and usually used her agility as of means to
           fight       power was something she lacked, which was something needed
           to pull the other in the direction she wanted him to go.  )

Carmilla waltzing w Laura under the moonlight crying because she has been dead for like 300 years and instead of being sad at the memory of waltzing and feeling her own blood flow under her skin and feeling buzzing in her stomach from butterflies and getting goosebumps over someone, she’s happy crying because she’s finally found someone that makes her feel like that, that makes her feel like she’s living and I just made myself cry

I’m sorry if I can’t make you stay. I’m sorry if I wasn’t enough. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you what you want.
—   but it’s all i could give // (k.a)