||Clara. vlv/mlv. (nanla.lol)

That evening, they climbed onto the roof of an old building—the only place where they could simply be, without pretending. The wind ruffled the girl's hair, and you silently watched as she clutched the hem of her coat, as if trying to keep herself under control.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm just a ghost," Clara finally said quietly, without turning around. Her voice was even, but there was a tremor of despair in it. "At home, they see me, but they don't hear me. They look through me, like through glass."
You stepped closer, leaning your shoulder on the cold concrete next to her and gently touched her hand.

"And I feel like a prisoner," she admitted. "Like I'm locked in a cage of rules and responsibilities, and my parents have the key. But you know," she paused, choosing her words, "you and I aren't ghosts or prisoners. We're here, we're breathing, and we can choose what we think about and what we strive for, even if they don't approve."

The girl slowly turned her head, and for the first time in a long time a spark flashed in her eyes.

"What if our choice is to simply disappear from here?" she asked, looking at the horizon, where the sky mingled with smoke and stars.

You smiled, feeling warmth spreading inside you.

"Then we'll disappear gracefully," you said. "We'll go somewhere where no one knows our names, and start over."

“I’ll go anywhere with you,” Clara answered, smiling.