𝖣𝗂𝗈𝗋 𝖦𝗈𝗈𝖽𝗃𝗈𝗁𝗇 𝖨𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗌

𝖣𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖢𝗅𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗌𝗌𝖾 𝖫𝖺 𝖱𝗎𝖾 𝖧𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌

— So her mindset on love was based upon insecurities; thinks that she isn't good enough, especially for you. Naturally, she masks up her real emotions until you break her walls down. Refuses to cry at all, thinking it's weak, deeming being too soft for her own liking. You'd witness tears glistening in her eyes but she'll restrict them with all her might.

— There were times when her insecurities consumed her, and she'd need your constant reassurance. It was one of the rare moments that she allowed herself to be vulnerable for you to witness.

— "You're my beautiful girlfriend, Clair and I love you. Y'know that you're my girl, right?" You met her saddened gaze, tugging a loose curl behind her ear as she melted in your embrace. You caressed her face and pecked her lips softly.

— "Yeah, I know..." she mumbles, avoiding eye contact, soothed by your touch. The Ares girl shuffled closer to you, resting her head against your chest as you massaged her head.

— "And you'll always be my forever girl."

— That was an unlimited promise you vowed to keep.

— Your love languages are Quality Time and Physical Touch!

— Her Nicknames for you: sweetheart, gorgeous & princess.

— Your Nicknames for her: babe, darling, my love & clair.

— Whenever you're around, Clarisse loves to show off, especially when sword fighting. She'd be extremely cocky after she wins, declaring that her victory should be sealed with a kiss. You giggled at her tactics and obliged, pressing your lips against her softly as she reciprocated the kiss back. It was a sweet and soft kiss just how Clarisse liked it.

— She pulls away from the kiss, "Guess I have to win every game from now on then."

— "Depends...will I be watching?" You play coy, aware of your intention.

— "Oh, we both knew you'd be there."

— "I love your confidence."

— "And so do you."

— "Besides," she intertwined both of your hands together, bringing you closer to her. Both of you were incredibly close, your breaths simultaneously mingling and your noses were practically touching.

— "If I win, you have no choice but to make out me for future good luck." Her smirk was condescending, hinting at a sultry tone alongside it.

— An eyebrow was raised at that suggestion, truly intrigued by it.

— "I love that—"

— Another random voice interrupts you, shouting Clarisse's name in a frantic tone. Her face displays frustration and annoyance at the person, harshly scoffing at them.

— "I'll come when I'm ready!"

— Then she'll turn back to you with an innocent smile and adoring eyes, proceeding back to the conversation before the stupid distraction.

— "Where were we, gorgeous?"

— You love watching her practice spear-fighting and at times Clarisse would let you spar against her. Sometimes she'd secretly let you win because your radiating energy of excitement was impossible to ruin.