Everyone, at some point in their life, are lucky enough to obtain a friend that, when things got tough, would always be there for them. Auden, of course, had been exactly that person and as Clarke buried her face within the others neck she held onto her as if she were terrified to let go -- scared, that if she did; she'd loose her, too. The remainder of the evening, the brunette rested within her bestfriends arms. Never, did she dare to move and eventually her mind and body drifted into a light sleep. Her hold on Auden deminished as she slept, finally allowing herself to rest without a weary mind.
Her father, on the other hand, had quite the mess. A smirk, plastered upon his features as he stared down to his dead wife. "She didn't even question...didn't even hesitate. I don't think your daughter liked you very much." He mocked, slowly leaning down and grabbing hold her chin before forcing her dead eyes to lock on his. "Don't worry, love. I'll keep a watchful eye on our daughter." Then, his attentioned turned to Willow. "She should have listened to you, you know...you were right the whole time." His hues flashed black, covering the white in his sockets before he stood and laughed.
That morning, Clarke woke with a splitting headache. Her skull, cracking in two as the weight of her loss pressed against her. Making her sick, the young witch pulled herself up and realized that Auden was no longer beside her. More than likely, she wasn't too far. Pushing the covers from her legs, Clarke slowly pulled herself off the bed with one foot in front of the other and groggily made her way to the bathroom. She noticed, in the mirror, that there had been a bit of blood on her cheek and quickly turned on the faucet to wash it away. She'd rubbed so hard against her skin that it became pink and she screamed.
The mirror, cracking and the lights flashing around her until she'd finally calmed and accepted defeat. Her emotions, winning against her.
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