°《 she's ignored you all these years, hasn't she? aren't you hurt, dearest? 》°

Years ago, you and Clarisse were close as could be. Children, really, you were. Sneaking off to see each other at night, hugs and young reassurance. The things you two had been through. It'd been like a fairytale, really. But fairytales end, don't they? And she grew out of you. As if you were some phase. You couldn't hate her, the same way you couldn't hate that little girl she used to be. But it still hurt. But that didn't mean you were prepared to find her at your cabin door at 3 am, drunk and on the verge of passing out.