It had been seven years since Teresa killed those bandits; seven years since the battle against Priscilla and the others. Priscilla was killed by Teresa that day, and Irene, Noel, and Sophia were gravely injured. The organization was smart enough to know not to come after Teresa again and, God help them if they tried, Clare.
So the duo had moved to a fairly small village, settling down and acting like a normal family. Clare was fifteen now; she had grown into a beautiful young woman, Teresa was proud to say. The two of them had a stronger relationship than anyone else around them. They rarely ever fought, and they trusted each other. Most importantly, they loved each other unconditionally. Teresa thought of Clare as her own and would do anything for her, even if that meant going through hell or ripping the world in two.
So, naturally, it came as a surprise to Teresa when Clare did what she did.
It was a beautiful and warm Saturday night, and Clare had informed Teresa that she would be going to a friend's house for a while and returning later that night. Hearing this, Teresa smiled and kissed Clare's forehead, telling her to have a good time. Hours passed and Teresa just sat in their house, reading a book.
At roughly nine thirty, Teresa decided to run by the tavern around the corner to grab a quick drink. She rarely drank but when she craved alcohol, she craved it. She threw on slightly nicer clothes and slipped on her shoes, and then walked out the door.
When she arrived at the tavern, what she saw made her stop cold. At a large, ornate wooden table sat a group of teenagers. As in young, hormonal teenagers. Clare's age teenagers. And right at the edge of the table, cheeks flushed and eyes droopy from alcohol, sat Clare.
She was sitting next to a boy with mischievous eyes and messy, jet black hair, listening to him as he spoke. Teresa narrowed her eyes and watched them.
The boy flashed Clare a cocky smile and then said something that made Clare look down and shake her head, looking as if she was trying to hide her smile. The boy then tilted her head back to face him and pressed his lips roughly against hers as Clare reared back in surprise.
Teresa felt her muscles tense up as her fist clenched. She would crush the little brat. Squeeze him into dust.
Okay Teresa she told herself. Deep breath now. They were just kissing. And as protective as Teresa was of Clare, she knew it would happen sooner or later. Hell, for all Teresa knew Clare had kissed boys before. Now the alcohol was another thing, and Teresa was angry, very angry, about that. But she could discuss that with Clare later. She made to turn and leave when something else caught her eye.
The boy's hand strayed from Clare's neck downward, and it slipped under her dress and came to rest between her legs.
Teresa exploded. She bounded forward, too fast for the human eye to see, and grabbed the boy by his neck. Slamming him into the wall, Teresa looked up at him and made her eyes glow yellow for a moment. She growled at the boy, her voice low. "If you ever do that again," she said. "I will tear you into pieces. I will kill you and I won't feel bad."
She dropped the boy and he recoiled away from her, holding his neck and coughing blood into his hand. "Now," she growled. "Get the fuck out of my sight before I change my mind about letting you live." The boy tucked his tail between his legs and ran.
Teresa's eyes returned to normal, and she turned to look at Clare, who had been gaping at her this whole time, unable to comprehend what had happened. Teresa grabbed Clare firmly by the wrist and literally dragged her to their house.
Once they were inside, Teresa rounded on Clare. "What the fuck was that?!" she exclaimed, livid. "What the fuck was that? I expected better of you!"
Clare cast down her eyes, ashamed. She could feel the heat rush to her cheeks.
"First of all," Teresa continued. "You lied to me. I thought we were to be completely honest with each other. How many other times have you lied to me?" Clare kept her eyes downcast, and when she didn't give an answer, Teresa went on.
"Secondly, you're only fifteen and you should not be drinking alcohol like that. Do you hear me? That's dangerous, you could hurt yourself or worse. And lastly, that boy could have taken advantage of you, and don't think he wouldn't! He would readily do that, and I don't think you need me to explain to you how horrible that experience would be! 'Horrible' is an understatement, actually. It would kill both of us."
Clare did not say anything, but she could feel tears begin to well up in her eyes. Typically, Teresa immediately softened whenever she saw Clare cry, but she felt no sympathy towards her today. She kept her gaze stern and her mouth narrowed into a thin line.
"After remaining like that for a few seconds, Teresa spoke, her voice dangerously quiet. "Now go upstairs and go to bed and don't come out until the morning." Clare kept her eyes low as she sauntered up the stairs, unable to deal with the anger and betrayal that she knew was in Teresa's eyes.
In the morning, Teresa woke up and stared at the ceiling. She sighed. She did not believe her berating of Clare last night had been too harsh, but she couldn't find it in her heart to continue to be mad at her. This was how it always was, and Teresa doubted that it would ever change. Whenever Teresa tried to stay mad at Clare for an extended period of time, she would be too tempted to ruffle her hair when they spoke, or tickle her sides as they fooled around.
Teresa was broke out of her reverie by retching sounds coming from the bathroom. She bolted out of her room to find Clare leaning over the toilet, puking clear fluid into it. Teresa ran over and held her hair with one hand, wrapping her other arm around Clare and rubbing her back in soothing motions.
This continued for a few minutes, with Clare vomiting on and off. When she finally finished, she leaned back against the wall and said, "Teresa, would you mind getting me a glass of water?"
Teresa sighed. "Of course," she replied. When she came back with Clare's water, she gave it to her and sat beside her as she drank, keeping her company.
"Teresa," Clare began after a little while. Teresa looked at her. "Thank you, and…I'm sorry. Really sorry. It won't happen again."
Teresa looked down and rubbed her temples. "It's alright, Clare," she finally said. "It's just, when there's alcohol and boys involved, you can often get into difficult situations. Dangerous situations. I don't want to see you get hurt. Ever." Seeing Clare's tears, Teresa reached out and pulled Clare against her, cradling her and rocking back and forth. "I just want to protect you, because I love you, that's all. Sorry if that's hard for you to understand."
Clare sobbed into Teresa's chest as Teresa gently spoke to her, repeating "I love you" and "Shhh" just like she always had when Clare was younger and was crying over a scraped knee. Clare looked up and brushed the hair from her eyes. "I love you too, Teresa," she said.