#mcthersguilt

     “when were you going to tell me?”   she hadn’t knocked. hadn’t waited for her mother to come answer the door. the key that had been made for her was used to let her in, and she’d found her mother in the bedroom like she had suspected. and a part of her realized that abby looked rough, looked like a woman mourning the man she loved, and that part of clarke ached. wanted to comfort her mom, because she hated seeing her suffering. but the other part? the one that had finally heard as much of the full story about marcus being killed that nathan could get from his dad? well  ---  that part was angry. and upset. that part couldn’t offer any comfort, because she didn’t have any to give. not now.   “or were you ever going to?”

[  sms: abby griffin  ]  hey abby, hope you’re doing well!  [  sms: abby griffin  ]  i just got back in town. was wondering if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime and catch up? 

“Sobriety is overrated.”

                                                @mcthersguilt    hit    the    ♡.

(   𝚜𝚖𝚜   »   𝚖𝚘𝚖  ❤️   )   :   do  i  really  have  to  go ? (   𝚜𝚖𝚜   »   𝚖𝚘𝚖  ❤️   )   :   i  have  a  paper  due  on  monday  and  i  should  really  work  on  it (   𝚜𝚖𝚜   »   𝚖𝚘𝚖  ❤️   )   :   you  should  invite  kane  instead  ;)  

“  What  up,  doc.  “  leaning  on  the  counter  in  her  office.  Like  nothing  was  wrong,  it  was  nothing  to  him,  anymore.  “  You’re  not  looking  so  hot.  “  //  @mcthersguilt

it takes a moment for her to sit back up but she still manages a quick “thanks, asshole!” while she’s seeing stars and trying to move out of the way of the riot coming her way.    /   @mcthersguilt​

   he breathes for the first time in what feels like forever, an honest breath.  how to start again? “do you think we could have DONE BETTER?”