also me drawing an acceptable kiss what kind of witchcraft is this


we can live forever if you’ve got the time // luke hemmings

Clara couldn’t even remember how long she’d already been nineteen when she first met Luke.

She’d been born into nobility but sort of resented the restrictions and expectations that came with the title bestowed upon her family, and thus had spent most of her teenage years trying to rebel against it. Her lifestyle had been frowned upon by anyone who knew her but even the smallest bit of freedom that Clara could obtain was enough to make her heart race.

Then one day she’d been on her way to some party when, like every cliché she’d ever heard of, someone came out of a dark alley and demanded she hand over all her money and possessions that were worth any substantial money. Although the smart thing to do would have been to just comply, Clara had never really been good at doing what would be best for her; and that was how she’d died.

Well, for the first time at least.

She could still remember in vivid detail the way the knife had felt as it had been plunged into her chest over and over again. She remembered how nothing she did would slow or stop the bleeding. And she remembered the agonising feeling of drawing her last breath before everything faded to black.

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