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 [Bathing beauty on the beach], OPEN // mxf // 18+ // Vampires
earlymorninstar
 Posted: Jul 10 2016, 12:39 AM
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The world is hard, the world is mean
It's hard to keep your conscience clean...


Hatred...

It was such a futile thing and yet it held such power all in the same. It had the capability to consume the soul; to engulf a person entirely and control every little move and action that they could ever think to make. Hatred was a driving force that no one could hide from, no matter how hard they tried. At least, that’s what Clara believed...

It had drifted through her veins and heated her with a flame that would possibly never die out. It forced her out of bed every single night; forced her through the town and down to the very spot where it all began - where she re-lived every bit of what drove her to its existence. She would never hide from it, nor could she manage even if she tried. It lifted off of each breath, dripped off of every spoken word, and existed not only on her gaze, but also dwelled deep within whatever heart that she might have had left. Yet, maybe her hatred was not as futile as it could have seemed. Hers had reason and meaning behind it - a hard and heavy meaning; One that only her, her sire, and the man who had brought her in had known. To everyone else, she was the hard bitch in town who disassociated herself with nearly everyone and mistreated her tutor everymoment she could.

Her steps fell heavy on the cooblestone beneath her as she breathed in the salty and warm night air. It was all so very familliar and left a horribly bitter taste in her mouth. ‘We’ll only be here for a short while,’ he said... ‘Don’t get worked up, Clara, darling...’ Fuck him. Leave it to her tutor to bring her right back where it all began, as if she could simply move on and ignore the hard truth that lingered and haunted her down every street. He promised her that he only needed to retrieve a few odds and ends from his estate and to ensure that the land had been taken care of in his absence. Once he was satisfied, they could go.

If only it was that easy.

Why the hell did he think she would be able to keep herself in once piece there? Why the fuckdid he think she would be alright; that she wouldn’thold on to a false hope that was heldsomewhere deep, deep inside; a hope that even she, herself, denied? To her, it had only been a hope to get her hands on that bastard once more and rip him into as many pieces as he had done to her heart that night -- But then again, perhaps it was something much, much more than that.

Her heels clicked much more loudly than she’d ever expected, but it had been late enough that no one other than the street rats and the young party-goers of the night would hear; if they even could through the haze of liquor and booze that hung off their bodies. Her lips twisted in distain as she brushed them all by, headed deeper into town and towards the border - where cobblestone met wood and where wood met sand. The salty air blew through loose tendrils of her hair that had been continuously held tight in pins and curls. For that one moment she allowed her eyes to shut as that same breeze englufed her, lifting her skirts from her ankles. It felt so wonderful and so horrible all in the same, for it was that very breeze interlaced with the sounds and smells of the ocean and sand that had sent her back immediately. It had been that realization that had caused her to roughly kick her heels off and sink her feet into the cool sand as she began her decent onto the beach.

The sea is calm, the sea is gray -
it washes everything away.


Clara Emerson... Sweet, sweet Clara Emerson. Where had that girl gone? WHere had she been lost to so very long ago?

It had been there, right on that very beach. It had been there where she’d been robbed of her innocence in those few simple and fleeting moments. There, where she believed every lie that he could have told her, all because she had once been yearning for an escape. Oh, and what an escape he had given her. And yet, even then she was left alone with nothing but turmoil -- she still could not find the answers that she sought desperately.

”You listen to me girl. I have given you ample time. I have given you the freedom that other girls your age would never dare to dream of. You are going to allow the Duke to court you beginning tomorrow, and you will marry him.I will not have our family disgraced any longer. Do you hear me?”

She’d been a daughter of priviledge, it had been true. Clara had at once been given the world, but it was not enough for her; it had hardly been enough. She had dreams that no other girl could imagine; dreams of far off places; dreams that were held within books that no one else would read. The girl had been found more than once, stealing away in her father’s library, keeping herself up for nights on end reading and absorbing any exciting new ideas that she could. And yet, there was no one to share it with; no one to speak to about it, because the fact of the matter was, she wasn’t supposed to speak. No matter how many boys had some along, no matter how many men had come along, each were more content with her silence than her words. What man would want their wife to have more of an opinion than they do on any subject? It simply was unheard of.

And the years came and the years went and Clara had found no one suitable enough for her. Yet, in the very end it wasn’t her decision. The townspeople had begun to tak; she’d heard the hushed murmurs of the wives and girls, wondering what was wrong with little Miss. Emerson - that she could not fetch a husband for herself.

”Well, she is quite odd, do you not think? The poor dear locks herself away at night.”
“Do you hear what she talks about? She lives in a man’s world... No one wants that!”
“Perhaps she’s barren... She is getting old enough. No one wants an old wife!”


It was a disgrace and her father had all at once left her in shambles that very last night; so much so that she felt the need to finally find her escape. She would rather run away and feed herself to the wolves than to be subjected to silence in a marriage that she did not yet want. So, Clara left; she stole away into the darkness that night under a heavy cloak with nowehre to go and no plan to follow. She simply walked and kept walking until she felt that she could walk no more. No one was around; no one had been there... She would be fine and she would be safe - no one would miss her.

Her steps had eventually slowed sometime along the night while her thoughts and heart had begun to race over what she’d actually done. Should someone come and find her, Clara had no idea what her father would do - nor did she want to dwell on it. She didn’t have time to dwell on it either as a shape came into view up ahead of her and her heart had practically stopped. Someone was there; perhaps someone to come and take her home...

Yet, what had confused her the most had been the fact that she’d felt that overwhelming fear for only a fleeting moment before she was consumed with an odd sense of calm; she had felt drawn and curious - something she couldn’t quite explain for the life of her. The man before her, as he drew closer, had been not only mesmerizing, but it was as if he consumed her soul all at once and she had let him.

Clara would eventually regret everything that happened that night, but she could have never known. All she knew in those few hours were of the conversations that she’d always wished she could have with the men in town. They spoke of distant lands, of sciences and math, of things she’d read and theorized about, but was never able to express. Everything she could ever want, she saw within him in those short hours. Perhaps that was why she had given herself over so very easily; why she suddenly felt the sand beneath her in a heated tousel of skin and fabric. She felt herself lost in him more than she could ever become lost in a person; from the sensations he gave her, to her racing heart, to the aching in her belly - she needed him and she wanted him.

And he gave her every bit of it... But he took much more than she could ever give him.

The pain had been fleeting before it became blinding, laced with the pleasure that still surged throughout her body. She at once became weak before she became overwhelmed, writhing on the sand before she felt him leave her... And he would not return.

Sink into the deep, cool and blue and kind-
Then drift off to sleep; let the past unwind.


Had it not been for her tutor that night, she would have died on that very beach come morning. Her sire had stolen away every bit of her innocence within moments and left her with an immortality that she had never wanted. Her fingers came up to trace the velvet ribbon held tightly around her neck before they clasped the emerald that hung carefully from it. Other than her immortality, it was the only fucking thing she had left of him; his mark. No matter how much she convinced herself to throw it in the ocean and be done with it all, she never could. He was still alive; something within her knew it very well.

And she would fucking kill him herself.

The question was, did he even remember her? And furthermore... would he ever reveal himself to her again?

Leave the hurt behind.

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