❝If there was one thing Anthony Lockwood was afraid of, it would be Carolynne Blair Lynch's pure, mere, terrifying beauty.❞
𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐝 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭? Perhaps a day that didn't go your way so now you'd...
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TW mentions of past suicide attempts
𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐤𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲 as Carolynne processed what George had told them and after Carolynne showed no sign of a reaction Lockwood put his drink down and walked towards her.
"Care?" He gently hooked his finger around one of her's as he searched through her eyes. He could see the tears welling up, "are you okay?"
Carolynne moved her hand from Lockwood to wipe her eyes as she took a step back to the door, "I-I just need a minute." With that, she left the room and refused to let herself cry until she was behind her bedroom door. Her room where it was pitch black and there was no one to see her cry.
Carolynne slid down her door with her face hidden by her hands until it could rest against her knees. It was such a shock. She knew that she recognised the Fairfax building, Sir John Fairfax, the name of the hall and Combe Carey Hall itself. She'd been through it before and walked out alone. What if she walked out alone again?
She couldn't even remember them, the people she'd gone into that stupid house with. The people who'd lost their lives in that stupid house. All she had were nameless pictures on her shelves. Toothy grins, awkward poses, crazy outfits, wacky hairstyles - happy teenagers just being teenagers.
