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Orange and purple streaks are smeared across the canvas of the evening sky. The sun is setting for the night behind dark clouds. The earth is bathed in an rust-colored glow, leftover sunlight still streams in through the dirty window onto the wooden floor, dust floating in the air as long, black shadows are cast on every piece of furniture.
Louis’ room is quiet, save for the grasshoppers and cicadas chirping and chittering outside. Clementine’s cheek rests on Louis’ shoulder as the two nap in his bed, dozing under the evening sun. On the surface Clementine looks serene, but the scene that is playing in her mind is anything but peaceful.
A crease forms between her eyebrows as she squeezes her eyes shut. Her heart starts to beat faster and faster until she can hear it in her sleep. An invisible weight is squeezing her chest, making it hard to breathe. She writhes beside Louis, subconsciously tossing and turning until her body and mind can’t take it anymore and rips her out of her slumber.
She jolts up with a gasp, eyes wide and frantic until she recognizes her surroundings.
It was just a bad nightmare, she convinces herself.
Even then, her breathing is still heavy; every inhale and exhale repeats in rapid succession. It’s not on purpose though, no, it’s because she can’t catch her breath.
Calm down, calm down, she tries to instruct herself, but it’s to no avail. Her chest is still tight and she’s nearly gasping for air at this point. Panicked tears prick her eyes as she reaches for the boy still snoozing next to her.
“Louis.” She clutches his shirt with a trembling hand—his usual trench coat dangling on the corner of an empty bookcase.
Louis stirs at the call of his name but his eyes are still shut.
Clementine jostles his shoulder. “Louis.” Her voice cracks on the last syllable of his name.
Louis’ eyes slide open, ever so slightly. “Hm?” When his sleepy gaze finds Clementine—tense with glassy eyes—he immediately knows something is wrong. He props himself up on an elbow to get a better look at her. “Clem?” he says, voice soft, as he places a hand on her back. He can feel her back expanding hastily with every breath she takes. “Are you okay?”
Clem silently shakes her head.
Louis frowns. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
She shakes her head again.
“Okay. That’s okay,” he reassures her, rubbing her back gently. “Everything’s okay. You’re okay. A.J’s safe, you’re safe, everyone’s okay.” Louis continues rubbing her back in soothing patterns and reminding her she’s okay, she’s safe, until her breathing starts to calm down.
Clementine focuses on the feeling on Louis’ hand on her back, lets his calm voice lull her nerves until her rapid heartbeat slows to its normal pace. Finally, she can breathe again. She inhales air like she was stuck under the waves of a turbulent ocean and has finally broke through the surface of the water.
“Nightmare,” she manages to gasp out. “I had a really bad nightmare.” A warm droplet rolls down her cheek.
Why am I crying? She knits her brows in confusion, not understanding the muddle her emotions are in. However, before she has the chance to swat her tear away, Louis reaches up and brushes it with his thumb.
Clem spares him an apologetic glance. “Sorry for waking you.”
“Don’t be.”
She clears her throat. “Um, let’s lay back down?”
“Okay.”
The narrow mattress creaks as they shuffle back together—Louis slides an arm under Clementine as she rests her head on his chest, right below his collarbone. His free hand finds hers and he intertwines their fingers. The air is still as Clem concentrates on the muffled yet strong thump thump thump of Louis’ heart.
“You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?” he asks her again.
She nods.
He wets his lips. “Then can I tell you about my nightmare?”
Surprised, she tilts her head up. “You were having one too?”
“Yup.” She watches his jaw move as he speaks. “It was terrifying. I’m actually glad you woke me up.”
“What was it?”
He doesn’t give her an instant answer and she starts to feel bad. She shouldn’t pressure him to tell her about his nightmares, just like he doesn’t rush her to spill hers. He’ll tell her when he’s ready—
“I swapped bodies with Omar.”
Clementine rolls her eyes and buries her face into the crook of his neck. “Oh my god.”
“And everyone expected me to make dinner but I had no idea what I was doing.”
“Can you be serious for once?” she says, tired.
“I am being serious!” he declares. “It was fucking scary! Do you have any idea how hard it is to make stew?”
Clem bursts out laughing. A short but sweet sound.
Louis smirks down at her, satisfied with her reaction. “I really have a newfound appreciation for that kid.”
“So will you actually start helping Omar out with dinner now?” She resituates her head on his chest, under his chin.
“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here.”
A small weight has been lifted when she smiles, her body feeling lighter. Leave it to Louis to find a way to make her laugh in any situation.
Clementine sighs and her eyelids flutter closed, content with listening to Louis breathe in and out as he plays with their still interwoven fingers. He opens his hand and splays his fingers, her open palm against his, as he stares at the difference in size. For some reason, it’s amazing to him that Clem’s fingers are much shorter than his. Eventually he intertwines their fingers again and kneads her knuckles with his thumb.
The quiet is relaxing and she doesn’t want to disturb it, yet, a sudden surge of courage strikes her out of nowhere. She doesn’t know where it comes from, but before she can stop herself, she whispers, “Everyone turned.”
Louis looks at her from under his eyelashes.
“Everyone. Violet… You… Even A.J. I was the only one left.” She pauses. “I was trapped and the only way out was to...” She lets him fill in the blank. “But I couldn’t do it. My body wouldn’t let me do it.” Clem grimaces, her lips twisting downward. “So I sat there, and for the first time in my life, I gave up. It was terrifying, but… peaceful.” She takes a shaky breath. “I don’t know how long I can keep losing people I love. I don’t know much more I can take.”
This is one of those rare moments where Louis doesn’t say anything, he just keeps playing with their hands.
It’s a terrible thought but she has to acknowledge it before it eats her alive. In a voice that’s barely audible, she says, “What if it happens to you?”
Louis hums. “Bold of you to assume I’d ever let those deadheads have any of my delicious flesh.”
Clementine lifts her head off his chest so she’s looking him right in his eyes, glaring hard. “It can happen to anyone.”
The intensity of her tone and the fire behind her amber eyes makes Louis’ blood run cold. She’s absolutely serious because she knows from experience.
“And who’s to say it’ll be a walker? What if another human shoots you? Unless it’s a bullet to the head you’re gonna turn.” It’ll happen to all of them sooner or later. No one is too young to die in this world. You can chalk yourself up to be the most capable person ever, either way, a bite is a bite and a bullet is a bullet. “You can’t trust—”
Hands come up on either side of her face, gently pulling her closer to him. Louis quickly presses his lips to hers, effectively quieting her.
His lips are warm, it fills her mind with welcomed white noise until he pulls away to speak.
“Clem, listen to me.” He brushes a stray curl behind her ear.
She blinks.
“You're here. I'm here. A.J is playing with Tenn and Willy in the other room. We're okay.” He stresses the word ‘okay’ like it's a lifeline for Clem to hang on to.
“That’s today, but what about—”
Another peck. “Exactly. We're okay today. And tomorrow?” He raises his brows. “We’ll make sure we're okay again. And we'll do it again the next day, and the next day, and the day after that, and—”
“Alright, I got it.” Clementine gives him a flat look. “Please stop.”
He’s still going. “—and the next day, and then the next—”
This time Clem covers his lips with her own, shutting him up. They exchange a few sleepy kisses, soft and comforting, as time seems to slow down around her. Their hearts beat in tandem as they break apart and a content sigh slips past her lips.
She rests her head against his head, taking solace in their proximity. Even with his joking manner, she understands the point Louis was trying to make.
No one can predict the future.
Clementine has always tried to plan her next step. That's just the way she was taught. That was the example that was set. People who didn't know what they were doing, who didn't have at least some semblance of a plan, didn't last very long in the apocalypse.
The ones who plan ahead are harder to kill.
Morbid, yes, but it's all she's known.
Still, if there's one thing Louis has taught her, it's to appreciate whatever time she’s granted together with her loved ones.
The present moment is all we ever have, after all.
“Do you wanna try napping again or are we getting up and checking on little man?” Louis asks, his lips grazing her forehead with every word.
Clem groans. “We should probably get up.”
Nobody moves.
“So…” Louis drawls. “We’re gonna teleport to him?”
“I’m too comfortable to move.”
“Well, then you don’t have to.”
“What are you— Whoa!” An arm wraps around her torso and pulls her up into a sitting position, then another arm swoops under her legs as she ends up being lifted into Louis’ lap. “What are you doing?! Louis!” He stands up with her laid across his arms in a bridal carry. She grabs his neck in reaction to the sudden elevation. “I can walk!”
“Oh, so you can move now?” Louis grins at her.
“Yes!” She lightly hits his chest. “Let me down!”
Louis immediately drops her legs, her feet landing on the ground beside him. She narrows her eyes at him and he envelops her into a hug, swaying their bodies back and forth. “Sorry.” He smiles, chin on top of her head. “Your reaction was too funny.”
“Glad one of us found that funny.” Clem’s voice is muffled in his shirt.
They hold each other in a comfortable silence, basking in their familiar glow.
Louis takes a deep breath. “Hey, Clem.”
Clementine angles her head up to look at him. “Yeah?”
“I love you.” His stare is as intense as it is sincere.
The corners of her lips tug up in a smile. “I love you too.”