clarama

                     CLARAMAE BAGNOLD ;; AESTHETICS

                          “She’s imperfect, but she tries. She’s good, but she lies.
                          She is hard on herself. She is broken and won’t ask for help.
                          She’s messy, but she’s kind. She is lonely most of the time.
                              She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie.”

( &. @aidanpce )

By the time the early evening had arrived, the Hogwarts Express having finished it’s chase against the sunset to the village of Hogsmeade, Claramae had found herself in brighter spirits. At least now that she was away from her family, it’d give her plenty of time to miss them– and then want to be as far away from them as possible once she’d reached her quota of Bagnold. After sliding her leather jacket over her ensemble, the witch stepped out from under the overpass of the station, leaving her cat carrier amongst the luggage being taken off the train as she navigating her way through the sea of students. Callidora snuggled deeper underneath the zipped leather; much like the students who were rushing to beat the rain towards the carriages, she did not enjoy the wetness. Claramae, on the other hand, enjoyed it immensely. Actually, the fact it was raining only amplified her heightened mood. Running a free hand through her slightly damp waves, the brunette spotted familiar locks up ahead. “Aidan!” She called, catching up with him. “You, me, carriage– se where I’m going with this?”