The wind swirled around her as she walked around aimlessly in the hot summer sun her mind drifted into so many thoughts, her eyes closed and her knees began to buckle, she fell to her knees and then layed on the cool ground. Maybe she is very dehydrated or maybe it was the sun but she couldent move it was like she was glued to the grass and flowers. Her eyes never opened but her breathing was apparent she just lay there a little unconscious   

Clint sprang to his feet and caught her, his reflexes faster than usual because of the adrenaline, that coursed through his veins. Sweeping her up, he laid her on her bed, and sat next to her, "Braylin...  I love you... that is why I am angry..." He explained, and held her in his arms.

Her words pushed Clint back over the edge, and he snatched the bottle throwing it against the wall. "What then! What do you want me to do!?!?!?" He shouted, tears streaming down his cheeks. "You were using drugs Braylin! ****!" Before she could say anything he held up his hand, "Do not give me any excuses! There is no reason for it!" He shouted, then stepped away and sat on the floor by the wall, watching her.

When she went to climb out, Clint grabbed her, and pushed her back down into the freezing water. "Stay." He snipped at her. Standing he walked to the kitchen and grabbed several bottle of water from the fridge. Walking into her bathroom he unscrewed the cap, and grabbed Braylin. "You are going to flush this." He stated, and started making her drink water.

Clint ast leaning on the tub, his eyes closed as he held her hand, he couldn't believe her. When could she have thought it would be a good idea to snort cooke. He knew she wasn't stupid, so why did she? Those questions would wait though. He had almost fallen asleep when he heard his name and he looked at her.

"Shh..." He stated simply, and looked away, refusing to allow himself to get emotional.

Clint turned the water off once it reached her neck, and he sat by the tub, holding her hand. "Bray. I am sorry... please come back...." He whispered, then stood. There was a reason she was like this, and he was getting rid of it. Walking into her bedroom he started searching her dresser until he fold the remainder of her stash. Grabbing it he walked to the bath room and threw it in the toilet, and flushed it down. Whether Braylin loved him or not for it, he was going to make her quit.

Walking back to the tub, he sat on the ground and held her hand.

Clint made it halfway to the woods, then collasped, how could he leave her. She was the woman he loved, and he had left her. Sitting in the dirt he stared at his hands, she wasn't the same, she was an addict. She would continue, and eventually waist into a skeleton that would sell it all for one more hit. He had seen his friends et hooked, even the girl he had loved during his school years had became an addict.

Looking back in the direction he came, he swore and stood. He was not letting Braylin do this anymore. Getting up he threw his duffel over his shoulders, and ran. HHe didn't just run he sprinted, full bore until he reached the house. Dropping his bag at the door he ran in. "Braylin!" He shouted, and went into the kitchen.

When he saw her on the ground, he fell to his knees. "No, no, no no!" He souted, and pulled her into his arms. Picking her up he carried her to her large bathtub in her room and laid her in it. Her skin was way tohot for her so he turned on the cold water full blast, and kneeled by the tub holding her hand.

Clint fought the urgbe to stay, and had to ignore her cries, he couldn't stay in a house where the woman he loved was doing drugs. He was deep in the woods when his phone rang, answering it he could hear Bray sobbing. "I told you. If you want to talk, we can when you are not high." His voice was rough, and he quickly hung up. He couldn't take hearing her cry, but she had done something horrible. She was using drugs. She was literally wasting away from the gorgeous, seductive woman she had been.

He could remember her warm bronze skin, her soft full lips, and those beautiful eyes. But now it was gone she was a shadow, nothing but a ghost. He had been blind with passion at first, until hadn't been until they settled down, after everything that he noticed. It made him want to cry, she was no longer the woman who he had thought about while he had been gone.

When Braylin arrived, he stared at her, a mixed emotion of love, pain, and disgust in his eyes. Shaking his head, he cinvched the duffel bag shut and turned. He could not believe her, he had just caught her doing drugs, and he expected him to simply nod and understand? She was incredibly wrong. He tried speaking but in his anger, and saddness no words came forth. Shaking, he stared at her, he was incredibly angry, so much so that his skin was red, and started to smoke.

He did not know what would happen if he stayed, so he threw the bag over his shoulder. He could see her eyes dilate as she became high, and his expression became one of disgust. Brushing past her, he grabbed his wallet and phone, "You have my cell. Call me when you are sober." He stated flatly, then tured. Grabbed her hand, he pulled the wedding ring off her finger, and held it up. "I am not marrying a drug addict." He growled, and threw it down the hall.

Turning away he walked out the front door, and headed in the direction of the city.

When Braylin left Clint stood, she was hiding something from him and he demanded to know what it was. Following after her, he grabbed the door just as she froze it. "Braylim! Open the door." He called out. He knew his tenuous grasp of fire would not melt the door so he had to find another way. He was an assassin, he could sneak into guarded facilities undetected, one room in a hgouse would be no trouble.

Runni ng outside, he saw her window and grinned, it was open. Kicking off his shoes, Clint jumped, catchng a spot in the bricks that gave him just enough of a ledge he could pull himself up. It took a few minutes, but he eventually reached her window. Graing the windowsill, he dead lifted himself, and pulled himself into her room.

Rolling to his feet, he watched her and froze, he knew instantly what she had just done, due to the residue on her nose, and the dresser. Clenching his jaw he shook his head, "Eto ne ta zhenshchina, kotoruyu ya lyublyu." He hissed between his teeth, reverting to his native Russian. Walking towards the door, he brushed past her, and raised his hand for the knob without thinking. AS he did, a ball of flame erupted from his hand, blasting the door open. "YA ne vyydu zamuzhnarkomana" He shouted, this disappointment strong in his voice.

Walking to his room he grabbed his duffel bag, and started shoving clothes into it. He had fallen in love with the teacher he had met. He had loked past her being a prostitute, because she looked past his being an assassin, but he refused to ignore her drug problem.