It was well past midnight when Clarice finally returned home, her steps heavy with the weight of the night's events. The distant sounds of laughter and music still echoed in her ears as she slipped through the front door, the faint smell of alcohol clinging to her clothes like a guilty secret.

With practiced stealth, Clarice made her way through the dimly lit foyer, the soft glow of moonlight filtering in through the curtains casting eerie shadows across the floor. Every creak of the floorboards beneath her feet seemed to reverberate through the silent house, a stark reminder of the delicate balance she was trying to maintain.

But just as she reached the foot of the stairs, the flick of a switch sent the lights blazing to life, illuminating the room in a harsh, unforgiving glare. Clarice's heart skipped a beat as she turned to face the source of the sudden illumination, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of her girlfriend leaning against the wall with arms crossed and a look of disappointment etched into her features.

"Good thing you decided to come home," her girlfriend's voice cut through the silence like a knife, each word dripping with a coldness that sent a shiver down Clarice's spine. In that moment, she felt like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar, the weight of disappointment bearing down upon her like a leaden cloak.

Clarice fears no one, but when it comes to her girlfriend, she immediately folds, the carefully constructed walls around her heart crumbling instantly at the look of betrayal in the other woman's eyes.