moreweaponthangirl:
Klara stops at the sharp tone, but she’s much closer to Charlotte now. If she reaches out, she could touch the blonde’s shoulder, try to comfort her. “Moved out?” Klara feels like she’s been punched in the gut. “I’m…” Of the house or of this room? She’s really not sure. “Charlotte, please. I need to… to explain. I’m sorry. I was wrong to go. But I thought… She told me… How do I fix this?” It’s a genuine question, as Klara flounders for answers. She can’t accept, not yet, that this might be unfixable.
“You don’t,” she says firmly, turning to look her in the eye. It hurts to be so close to her, for her to even be in this room and she didn’t want her to be. There were enough empty rooms in this house and she’s sure Klara could have any one of them. But she didn’t want her in this one. “You don’t just fix it, it doesn’t work like that. You can’t just say the magic words and everything is okay.” Her parents dumped her here, erased the traces of her from their home and wrote her pretty little postcards like nothing had happened. Klara left with a goddamn note in her place, and now she was here asking for forgiveness like Charlotte should just give it to her. It wasn’t okay, and she didn’t have the energy to deal with it. Not yet. “I need time. I need space.”












