House-Of-Legions
by a train, leaving her groaning in discomfort. Lifting her head, a wave of lead greeted her before the constant po
she swore inwardly. She scrunched her fa
on the sofa she felt great. Well not t
on
to the tiled floor, "Jesus, mom, just s
against the door jamb, she waited until Clare finally got up off the floor, no doubt frowning. F
me that she had really looked at her mother. The light powder blue eyes so different to Cla
ere getting a visitor, or the visitor was her mother. Judging from the flushed freckles on Michelle's cheeks and the slight frown to her brow, Clar
omething that Clare herself couldn't even feign. It was somehow ingrained in her to wear boots and always choose practica
was five foot eleven and fit comfortably in a European eight. That night which changed everything, was the exception. The o
The things that kept Clare from believing her presumptions true was firstly, Michelle's height, she was almost as ta
ichelle always saw her as. Clare wasn't a child wanted in Michelle's mind, but one to protect. She doubted her mother would've kept her if it wasn't for the blood t
n't answer her mother. Not that she didn't want to, s
ust look like him. The mystery sperm donor. She had no recollection of her father, o
n, with paler skin and a sharp jaw line to match unnaturally dark green eyes. She could al
e moved well. She was solid on her feet. So what if she couldn't pull off the grace that Mi
om her tennis coach to play professional tennis. Which was why, she applied to Oxford law. Getting the interview was one thing, and
student she knew, he was supposed to help her out, but he'd just upped and vanished. All in all she wasn't left with much. She wasn't so sure
orget the deep emerald-green eyes. The one feature she loved and never complained about especially since it came with excellent vision. Lastly the out of control chocolate-brown locks cascading down her back that she just couldn't
he door frame again. Watching Clare as intently as she watched one of her patients. Clare wanted nothing more than to shake
s bullshit, naturally Clare had figured it out years ago. Regardless of the distance that lurked between them, she loved her mother, but liking her was pushing it. A step into
or did she raise her voice, "of course mother." Michelle stiffened and the s
going to get any better she huffed and stormed down the white-walled passage. Turning to
om the afternoon heat. Any other focal point in the small space was pointless. Already knowing the colour scheme of the whole ap