Still can't get over all of the reviews on this, ahh wow :3
I forgot to say thanks to kriscrable last time, and Rosalia I'm not gonna lie I don't know what flags are :L (I think I might have an idea, but then usually my ideas about things like these are waaay off the mark), Starstar I think getting a bigger cupboard is worth it when there's the chance of finding the Professor and Clive in it, don't you? ;) and Triple C and cmace98, this is for you (sort of haha)
I wasn't really planning to upload tonight, but I think it was pretty cruel to leave you where I left you, so I have a really really really short (even shorter than normal) little snippet to kind of fill in while I finish working on the next few chapters :) hope it's alright, ~nellen xx
"Don't wait up!" Clive yelled hoarsely, slamming the door again as he left. He wasn't sure why he kept taking it out on the door, but he felt the need all the same. He was just so angry. So heartbroken.
He paused for a second at the edge of the garden, the cool night air washing over him as he gazed at the star filled sky. Such a shame that soon he wouldn't know how nice the sky was, or how cold the night was, or who the hell he was.
He only did it for that reason, because it helped him to forget. Forget what he'd done, what had been done to him. The people he'd used, and the people who'd used him. The people he'd lost, and the people he was losing.
He always lost people, never found them. He himself was lost, most of the time. A wandering busker with no real home to go to, no real family or friends to talk to, no one to love him or care for him or stop him from doing stupid things that he knew he'd regret the next day. He didn't have anything like that, not anymore.
He didn't bother heading to the pub by the square, he didn't want the attention or the chat. He didn't want Sal or Len to ask how he was, and he definitely didn't want their help.
All he wanted tonight, was a drink.
Flora slid down with her back to the door, hot tears welling in her eyes.
She was going to tell Clive, she really was. It was just that, if she told him, she'd have to tell Mark, and she knew wouldn't take it well. Mark couldn't take much well anymore, when she thought about it. She curled up on the carpet, her head in her hands. Bruno lumbered over, flopping down beside her and nuzzling into her side. She looked up into his big apologetic eyes and wrapped her arms around his large fluffy neck. He made a kind of sighing noise and licked her cheek affectionately, seemingly wondering why his friend was so upset.
"I've screwed up, Bruno," Flora sniffed, cuddling closer into the hound.
"I've really screwed up."