Goddamn Tragedy

VI

They stared at another. She wondered if he remembered how tightly he had held her last night. If he had wanted to remember it, anyway. He stared at her for another moment before he glanced toward the fridge with a weird look on his face. "We have cereal or uh-toast if you're hungry."

She remembered the warmth again. The feeling of his skin almost on top of hers. She glanced at the ground. "I should probably get home." She looked up and watched his face harden, as if she was setting some boundary she hadn't realized. "My mom. She's already probably freaking out."

He nodded his head even though his jaw remained locked in place. "I have to be at the shop in a bit so-."

"I can take her." Octavia chipped in. She had forgotten she was even in the room. She turned toward him, wanting to rub away the hard look on his face with her fingertips but she remained rooted where she was.

"Alright." He nodded he head and looked back at her. His face was a bit softer now but not as much. The small dimple in his chin stood out to her and she wondered what it would feel like underneath her lips. "I'll see you."

She wanted to ask when and where and how but all the questions only remained flooded around in her brain.

She held on tightly to the bag in her hands and prayed her voice wouldn't waver, showing her uncertainty. "I'll see you."

He nodded at her and pulled out his keys from his pocket before tossing them to Octavia. He glanced at her once more before he turned and walked down the hallway.

Why was this eating her away so bad? She stared down the now empty hallway and only turned away when she heard Octavia clear her throat.

"Ready?"

Even though she wanted nothing more than to crawl back into the warmth she felt, she said yes.

...

"Did you not think to call me?"

She sat on the stiff white couch as her mother paced in front of her. She had gotten home less than ten minutes ago and after reassuring her mother she was alright, she had gotten a full on lecture. As if she wasn't a nineteen year old who spent most of her time abiding to the rules her mother had always set up for her.

Do this. Do that. Don't say this. Don't act like that. Wear this. Talk to these people. Don't talk to those people.

"Clarke? Are you even listening to me?"

She glanced at her mother.

Her life felt like a production. From her mother dictating whom she could hangout with, to what she should look like. She never felt like herself within the walls of her home, at least not anymore.

There was a time when she would laugh loudly, even a bit absurdly. A time where she felt so much love. A time where there wasn't a thick wall of tension behind every crevice.

That was so long ago that it felt like a dream to even think it was once her life.

She glanced up at her mother but was only answered with a shake of her head. "If only your father could see you now." Her mother shook her head once more before walking out of the room.

She felt her hands shake in her lap as they remained interlocked.

Her body felt the impact it had when she last saw her father. She could hear his voice in her ear encouraging her to get out of the car that had trapped them both. She could smell fire. She could smell burning flesh.

Her pulse grew faster. She stood up on shaky feet and swayed slightly before she turned and headed toward her room. She tripped slightly but it didn't make an impact to what was already going on in her head.