𝓣𝓱𝓸𝓻𝓷𝓼 • 𝒜𝓇𝓇ℴ𝓌

0.6| 𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒞𝓊𝓇𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝓉𝒶𝓁𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝒞𝒽𝓁𝑜𝑒́ 𝒜𝓇𝒸𝑒𝓃𝑒𝒶𝓊𝓍

Sinking to the floor as the sobs broke free, wracking her body as she could only sit there. Burying her head in her hands, she was nothing but a failure. Her trembling hands reached for the pocket watch her father had so lovingly crafted for her, the words as clear as they'd always been.

Do not doubt your fearless strength.

But that was it, she wasn't strong at all. She never had been, only acted strong because she had no other choice but to. Because Théo and Liliane needed her to be strong, because above all else Vivienné demanded strength from her. Because weakness was not tolerated in this house. Underneath it all she was weak, pathetic and cowardly.

And she had failed as a daughter, she wasn't as strong as her father wanted her to be and she never would be.

Waking the next morning, Chloé instantly knew that something was different. Off. Both in herself and in her surroundings.

For one thing, she wasn't alone. Asleep on the other side of her sofa bed where it seemed the exhaustion had finally gotten to both of them and they had fallen asleep, was John. Rubbing at her eyes adjusting her glasses, she clambered out of the bed, neck and shoulders stiff from the awkward position she had fallen asleep in.

Pausing when she went to grab her cane only to realize it wasn't there. Reminding her of all that had happened. Sighing, she stood almost collapsing as she hobbled towards her kitchen. Having grown so used to walking with that damn limp. Walking normally or attempting to especially after so long was near impossible, The small sense of joy she felt was however quickly dashed as she remembered one thing,

perhaps the very reason her leg had become so problematic in the first place. She could no longer walk beside the very love of her life or without the splintering pain shooting through her leg with every slight movement.

Glancing to the clock she saw it was just a little after eight O'clock in the morning. And as she had much expected, her leg beginning to flare with a searing pain, all she could do was sigh vacantly. It was one thing that would never change, psychosomatic or not her pain would never leave her, she had long accepted it as simply a pain she deserved, a punishment for all she had done. All that she was.

She sure as hell deserved it.

Shaking off the thoughts and burying them somewhere deep, she found the spare cane she kept in her cupboard and made towards her kitchen. Doing her best to prepare a makeshift breakfast for herself and John, mind lingering elsewhere, leading to several burnt fingers, she couldn't have been awake for more than twenty minutes when John came staggering in, arm still in it's sling.

'Morning.' She mumbled through a yawn.

John giving a grunt in response, making for the pot of coffee, pouring himself and taking a large sip. Giving a sigh as he stood there, contemplating for a moment. 'Yeah, it's still not any less ridiculous.' He mused shaking his head.

Chloé giving a dry laugh, 'Tell me about it.' She huffed, as she finished, plating the slightly crisp bacon, John paused turning to face her with a frown.

'Where's your normal cane?' He asked, Chloé giving a huff as she handed him a plate sitting at her table, giving a half shrug,

'No idea. Lost it in all the chaos.' She admitted vaguely, running a tired hand over her face. Liliane had given her that cane as a present, now she'd have to go and get another one. And trying to find somewhere that sold cane's with swords in them wasn't exactly easy. But then perhaps it was a good thing, perhaps this was some sort of sign for her to cast aside the past before it caught up with her again. That it was time for her to just let go.