[Clara's eyes blink into focus, taking in all of the ways Sarah is and isn't like her sisters. Her eyes are harder than Cosima's, and colder than Sarissa's, but there's the same downward curve to her mouth, the same adorable nose. Without the smudged makeup and the messy curls, she could almost be Cosima, and the proximity is enough to make Clara crave. She wants to be home, with her girlfriend's hands on her, with that familiar head of hair against her thigh. Through the growing fog of alcohol, it strikes her as cruel, almost unfair, that something so good had to end over a silly, human lie. It wasn't what she deserved. It wasn't what she was owed.
She leans in, trying not to look at the bow of Sarah's mouth.]
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She leans in, trying not to look at the bow of Sarah's mouth.]
Want to make a really stupid decision with me?