❝ it is either rot with the living, or rot with the corpses
you so recklessly brought to their demise ¡! ❞
ongoing ༉‧₊˚.
𝘊. 𝘗𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘰𝘮𝘩𝘪𝘷𝘦 × 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘖𝘊
Oh, how terrible it is to love something death can touch. That kiss enlaced wit...
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―WARNINGS ; ''˛'⩩♡
! v̶i̶o̶l̶e̶n̶c̶e̶, !
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Being fooled was never in Claire's forte. Forsooth, Claire never found herself being tricked or scammed by anyone who ever dared to think she was a dense child. She was the daughter of her father, a great man of ambition, but failed to keep his family away from harm, but to be referred to as his child brought an indistinguishable bitterness to bubble in her chest. He did not deserve the title of father, not to her, he didn't. He was an admirable man in terms of business, but when it came to family? All Claire could do was scoff.
"You're just as greedy as your father, aren't you?" They always said, but was she really greedy when she did it for the sake of London's streets? We're all born brave, anyway, trusting and greedy, but most of us remain greedy.
Claire stood from her desk and gathered all her paperwork into batches according to relativity and importance, but not before sparing a quick glance at the old grandfather clock standing tall in the corner of her study. She rang the bell at the wall, calling for her all-mighty maid, Vivielle. Oh, she was anything but all-mighty, but she supposed her desperation for Claire's soul was indeed handy when it came to small hold-ups. Though, the pesky maid could not always get to her study in time, always keeping them at least 2 minutes late.
