#failedcunt

IT'S LIKE SHE CAN'T STOP HERSELF. Elena is gone, she's left Maeve, and there's a whole lot of dead promises going around. Even still, this feels like a violation. Having Butcher here. In this space. Where her and Elena lived, laughed, and loved. It's also where they broke the fuck apart. She still thinks she can smell her perfume. Like her scent is a ghost haunting the apartment. Every corner is marked by a memory, marred by it. She looks at @failedcunt with storms in her eyes. And it's not his fault. But still.