❝Magic is an ancient entity. It is strong, powerful but it cannot solve everything. It cannot be used as a resolution for every problem.❞
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pre titans s1-???
dick grayson x oc
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Clara doesn't sleep.
She closes her eyes, counts sheep in her head and yet the relief of sleep eludes her. She puts it down to her fever, which is now gone. Almost. The only remnant of that fever is the slight cold she feels. Otherwise, she is okay. (Or is she?)
She doesn't have to check the time to know that it's late. Her body clock tells her it is almost 2 AM, a time when nobody in the world wakes or should be awake. But no, she is very much awake, her eyes open as she stares up at the ceiling of the canopy bed that doesn't belong to her. Part of her is annoyed at her niece for dragging her to Wayne Manor, a place that she doesn't want to stay in, but then a part of her thanks her for it.
In her weak, vulnerable moments, Bruce is the one person she wants, although she will never admit this to anybody.
Clara sits up on the bed, the blanket falling from her body. She waves her hand in the air and a small orb of light appears, providing a faint source of light in the darkness of the room. The light bounces off the reflective surface of the clock, and her earlier thought is confirmed.
It is almost 2 AM. But her body just refuses to sleep. She waves her hand once more and the orb disappears, shrouding the room in darkness once more. She lets out a heavy sigh, her hands suddenly clenching onto the blanket.
