Work Text:
She doesn’t know exactly why it started or where the idea came from. However, she knows when it started.
It was after the New Frontier took AJ from her. Her thoughts just became overtaken by this layer of doubt and depression; she needed to peel it off. Problem was, how was she supposed to do that?
She was alone for the first time in a while. She didn’t have a child to preoccupy her thoughts with, and she didn’t have an adult to silently curse out for being ridiculously incompetent, either.
Just her and her mind — which betrayed her more often than not.
There were passing thoughts. Some sick, deep part of her brain asking morbid questions — suggesting morbid actions.
Her eyes would land on the knife in her hand after she stabbed a walker in the skull with it, and her hand would twitch. It felt as if someone else was trying to control her. As if someone else was trying to take over her mind and force her to do something.
What if she just…stabbed herself?
There’s no one around to stop her. No one around for her to keep fighting for. So…why not?
Of course, she shook the thought away. But for a second — just a second — she seriously considered it.
She opted to blame the hunger. She hadn’t eaten for days. She was probably becoming delirious, or something.
The thoughts kept happening, though. Even when she wasn’t hungry. Even when she wasn’t tired. Even when she wasn’t thirsty. She tried finding other things to blame, but the only common factor was her own mind.
Stabbing herself was a bit extreme. Too messy, too fatal. So, her mind suggested another option.
A simple slice across the wrist? She could handle that. Hell, she’s gotten shot before. A small cut was nothing.
So, she tried it out.
She sat in a solitary place after ensuring no walkers were waiting to take a jump at her, made sure her knife was relatively clean, and slid it across her wrist.
She didn’t apply enough pressure to draw blood, so she wasn’t satisfied. She slid the knife across her wrist again, harder and faster, not giving herself time to hesitate.
It took a second, but blood began to trickle out of the wound. There wasn’t a lot, but it was something. She sat for a moment, just staring intensely at the blood slowly pooling out of the cut.
Then she got up and kept walking, as if she hadn’t done anything odd.
It was stupid, now that she thought about it. She never cleaned the wound or even bandaged it. It could easily get infected.
It wasn’t like she was trying to die. But if the wound did happen to get infected, she didn’t think she would mind.
She was fine with dying. She just didn’t have the guts to do it herself.
Now she’s here, still alive, sitting in the room Marlon put her in when she first arrived at Ericson’s.
That was a while ago, wasn’t it? A couple of years, maybe? She was never one to keep track of the days.
Her scar collection had built up significantly since the first time. She was grateful for the long sleeves she had, considering the scars took up nearly her entire forearm — both left and right.
She continued the habit throughout her time on the road, even after she found AJ.
She thought that once she had AJ again, she could easily stop the act.
She was wrong.
Apparently, when you do something so many times, you start to become dependent — she refused to say ‘addicted’ — on it. Who knew?
Every time AJ was asleep, she pulled the knife out, making a few quick cuts and putting it away again.
It was shameful and pathetic. What if AJ caught her? She didn’t even want to think about the ideas it would put in his head.
She was supposed to be someone he could look up to. She’d fuck up a lot of things before she fucked that up.
Part of her mind told her she already fucked it up, but she chose to ignore it.
There were a few times AJ almost caught her. Sometimes he wasn’t asleep like she thought he was. Sometimes he nearly caught a glance of the scars on her arm when her sleeve rolled up without her noticing.
Regardless, he didn’t know — at least, she hoped not — and she wanted it to stay that way.
It was still difficult to keep it a secret when they shared a room, but easier now that they weren’t stuck with each other the entire day.
She had to stop someday. She knew that. She was getting too reckless. The others would find out about it.
They knew she wasn’t fine, they just didn’t know the extent of it.
She was never that great of a liar, anyway.
———
She’s had close calls with everyone at Ericson’s. Small slip-ups that nearly gave her away.
The first time was unsurprisingly with Ruby. She was what passed for a doctor at Ericson’s, so it made sense that she would notice a medical issue.
Clementine had a rough night, sneaking off to one of the closets no one ever looks in to relieve her pent-up stress.
She pressed down too hard on her skin for a few of the cuts, and blood immediately poured out of them.
“Fuck.” Clementine immediately swore, careful to keep her voice down. She tucked the knife away, pressing her free hand into the cuts to prevent more blood from flowing out. The pressure made the cuts burn more. She kind of liked it.
She sighed, pulling her sleeve over her arm and putting pressure back on the wounds through her clothing. She carefully exited the closet, surveying the hallway to make sure no one was there.
She snuck off into the nurse’s office, rummaging through the cabinets for supplies. The cuts weren’t deep enough to need stitches, so just bandages it was.
She found a roll of bandages that looked like it was about to run out and wrapped the wound up with the rest of it. She tucked the remaining bandages in her pocket to stash in her room. She assumed that would be the end of it.
Of course, with her luck, Ruby would end up doing inventory the next day.
As directed, Ruby would tell her about it.
“We’re pretty stocked up on everythin’. Could use some more meds, but that’s normal. I did notice somethin’, though.” Ruby informed her, standing near the desk in the corner of the office.
Clementine was sitting in Marlon’s old chair, now passed down to her as the leader — though not willingly. He was probably cursing at the fact that she took over as leader even after AJ shot him. She looked up from the map she was inspecting, “What?”
“One of the rolls of bandages is missin’. I know we had a certain amount, and I didn’t use any recently.”
“Hm.”
Ruby raised a brow, “Any idea what coulda happened to it?”
Shit. Ruby was onto her.
“Maybe someone had to patch themselves up.” Clementine reasoned. It was technically the truth, wasn’t it?
“Wonder who that ‘someone’ would be.” Ruby commented, staring directly at her.
Clementine made it a point to ignore her gaze, laying her eyes on the map again and shrugging, “If that’s all, then I think we’re good here. I’ll organize a supply run soon.”
Ruby sighed and shook her head, but left the office without another word.
———
Aasim was the next. Considering he was Ruby’s boyfriend, she probably shared her suspicions about the whole bandage debacle. It was just one roll of bandages; it wasn’t like she was endangering the group over her little habit, right?
They were out on a quick hunting trip. There weren’t many fish caught, so they had to resort to hunting rabbits.
Clementine set her eyes on a small cluster of rabbits, quickly drawing her bow and an arrow.
She had fairly fresh scars from the previous night — one of them particularly sensitive for whatever reason. She didn’t want to dwell on it.
When she tried to aim her bow, her sleeve rubbed roughly against the scar, causing her to flinch and accidentally release the string of the bow. Clementine sent out a small, “Shit.”
As the bow landed, the rabbits separated, running in multiple directions.
Aasim, who was also aiming his bow at the rabbits before they scattered, looked over to her in concern. He lowered his flimsy bow, asking her, “You alright? What happened?”
“Yeah, just…” Clementine’s brain scrambled like a rabbit for a believable excuse, “my leg, you know.”
It was a fairly good excuse, with her new prosthetic, and all. She still hadn’t gotten all that used to it.
Aasim paused, staring at her for a second. It looked like he was contemplating saying something.
Eventually, he spoke, “It looked like it was your arm that flinched.”
Clementine shot him a glance before looking away, “My entire body flinched.”
“Right.” Aasim said with suspicion in his tone, “Let’s try and find where the rabbits ran off to.”
She was grateful he didn’t press further, but she needed to get herself together. She couldn’t let this habit get in the way of her contributing to the group.
———
Clementine had a habit of rubbing at the scars on her arm, sometimes scratching at them when she didn’t have her knife on hand and the urge was strong.
She mostly did it subconsciously, sometimes catching herself and having to force herself to stop.
She tried to avoid doing it around other people, but again, she didn’t realize when she was doing it.
She was sitting with Omar near the fire he was cooking dinner over. Omar silently swirled the spoon around in the pot, mixing the ingredients together.
Omar kept sending Clementine concerned glances, but she kept her eyes focused on the flicking flames of the fire.
After a few more looks, Omar finally broke the somewhat peaceful silence, “Are you okay?”
Clementine looked up at him, confused, “Yeah, why?”
“You’ve been scratching at your arm for the past ten minutes.” Omar told her.
Clementine quickly pulled her hand away from her wrist, suddenly becoming aware of the pain radiating from it.
“Sorry.” Clementine apologized.
“Don’t know why you’re apologizing.” Omar said, “I’ll ask again, are you actually okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just…a habit.” Clementine brushed him off, “Nothing to worry about.”
Omar didn’t look convinced, but didn’t push the subject.
“Dinner’s about done. Can you tell everyone?” Omar requested.
“Sure.” Clementine gave him a small nod, getting up and heading towards the school doors.
———
Violet was more pushy about it than the others.
She was in Clementine and AJ’s room, searching the closet for something she apparently didn’t want to tell Clementine about.
“If you just told me what you’re looking for, I might be able to help you.” Clementine tried, sitting on her bed. Her prosthetic was propped up against the dresser.
“I can find it myself.” Violet insisted.
“It would be faster if you told me.” Clementine grumbled. Surely, the whole ‘having one somewhat working eye’ thing wasn’t helping Violet’s search, either. More reason to let Clementine help.
Maybe part of Clementine just felt uncomfortable with the fact that Violet was searching the room. It was Clementine’s space now, regardless of who had been living in it before her. Having someone else rummaging through it felt like having someone read her thoughts.
Also, Violet might find the blood-stained spots on the floor that Clementine couldn’t seem to erase — no matter how much she scrubbed at it — which would be difficult to explain.
Violet stopped her search of the closet, going over to search the dresser drawers instead.
Clementine allowed Violet to continue her search, though her pulse increased when Violet paused at something in the drawers.
She saw Violet squint and pick up a roll of bandages.
Shit. The roll of fucking bandages.
“Why do you have a roll of bandages in here?” Violet questioned.
Clementine tried to shrug her off, “Must’ve left it in here when I patched myself up once.”
“When have you had to patch yourself up?” Violet wondered, “You haven’t gotten hurt on a hunting trip recently.”
“Just some scrapes, you know. Small things.” Clementine’s tone became tense, “Weren’t you supposed to be searching for something?”
Violet turned to look in the dresser again, pulling out the photo album that Clementine had taken a quick look through on her first day here.
“Found it.” Violet said, “Now can I confront you about your obvious lie?”
“What makes you think I’m lying?” Clementine defended. She wished she had her prosthetic on — it would give her a means of escape, at least.
“I’ve been living in a group of people who lie about the smallest shit for, like, eleven years now.” Violet scoffed, “And you aren’t a great liar.”
“Okay, well. I’m not lying. I just patched myself up one time and forgot to put the bandages back.” Clementine reasoned.
“We all know to tell Ruby when we use any medical supplies. For some reason, I don’t think you told her, considering you’re hiding the bandages away in your drawer like it’s some kind of contraband.” Violet continued.
“Jesus, can you fucking lay off?” Clementine snapped, realizing she’d been clawing at her wrist through her sleeve as Violet talked. She tore her hand away, “It’s not that big of a deal. Put the bandages back in the nurse’s office and tell Ruby I used them if you’re that damn concerned about it.”
Violet flinched back slightly when Clementine raised her voice, but they both pretended to ignore it.
“Okay then. Sorry for bothering you.” Violet sighed quietly, turning and walking out of the room with the photo album and bandages in hand, shutting — more so slamming — the door on her way out.
“God.” Clementine groaned out, rubbing her hand over her face.
She hated when she did that — lashed out at people; pushed them further away.
Clementine reached for her knife, curling her fingers around the handle.
———
Even fucking Willy noticed. That’s a new low right there.
No offense to Willy, of course, but he isn’t the most observant of other people.
Clementine clumsily made her way up the ladder to the watch tower, her prosthetic making it more difficult than it should’ve been.
Willy glanced at her as she joined him.
Clementine stared out into the forest, but started a conversation, “How was your little sleepover with AJ last night?”
“It was cool.” Willy replied, “He started asking me what the world was like before — like I’d remember, I was like five.”
AJ seemed to have a small fixation on life before the apocalypse. It made sense. It was just like being interested in history.
He was a little like Lee in that sense, then.
“What did you tell him?” Clementine laughed slightly.
“I said I didn’t know that much, but I know it was easier to talk to people all over the world back then, though.” Willy told her, “I wonder how many people are still alive out there. I just wish there was a way to know.”
“Hard to tell how many are left.” Clementine acknowledged.
They remained silent for a few moments, surveying the trees for any sign of danger.
Clementine stretched her arms in front of her, trying to keep her body awake. The stark white of the bandage on her wrist caught Willy’s attention.
“When did you get hurt?” Willy asked.
Clementine looked down at her wrist, adjusting her sleeve to cover it, “Got a, uh, scratch when I was hunting. Not a big deal.”
She absentmindedly rubbed at the scars hidden under the bandage for the rest of her watch shift.
———
Clementine didn’t only do it when she was emotional, though that was a reason she did it most of the time.
Sometimes she did it because she needed to feel in control of something.
Sometimes she did it when her mind wouldn’t shut the fuck up.
Sometimes she just did it because she was bored.
She felt more ashamed after those times.
Who the hell thinks of cutting themselves when they’re bored? Pretty fucked up when she thought about it for too long — which is why she pushed the knife into her skin: to push the thought into the back of her mind.
Clementine sighed, leaning her head back against the door to their room. She looked around at the decor in the room: the skulls on the shelves, AJ’s drawings plastered on the wall, Tenn’s drawing hung in the middle of them.
Part of her regretted not having Tenn draw her in that picture, but she didn’t know these people at that point. She wasn’t comfortable — she didn’t want to be comfortable. Being comfortable meant letting your guard down, and that meant anyone could stab you in the back at any moment.
She was more comfortable now, though still hesitant. Even people you’ve been friends with for years can betray you — Marlon proved that point for her.
Clementine grasped the knife in her hand, squeezing the handle tightly.
She already rolled the sleeve up to her elbow, where the scars came to a halt.
She was nearly running out of room. She was just layering new scars over her old ones now.
She stared for a moment, just admiring the scars. Many of them had faded; some were still in the process of healing.
She’s forgotten what her skin looked like before she started. She can’t imagine it ever being smooth to run her finger across again.
Clementine brought the knife to her wrist.
She’d nearly perfected it — the way to smoothly slice the knife across her wrist without going too deep, but still deep enough to draw a fair amount of blood. It came naturally at this point, almost like shooting a gun. Her aim wasn’t always perfect, but it was pretty damn close.
She pushed the knife into her skin, taking a small inhale of air as she did.
She repeated the action. Again. Again. Again.
As she moved the knife across her skin again, a knock came from behind the door, causing Clementine to flinch. With her flinch, she accidentally pushed the knife in too deep, causing too much blood to start flowing out.
Clementine mumbled a quiet swear and quickly pocketed the knife. She pulled her sleeve back over her wrist, making sure none of the scars were visible.
She stood up and put her hand on the doorknob, twisting it open to see who the hell was knocking on her door at night.
Of course, it was Louis.
Louis was the one who nearly caught her the most. Somehow, he always manages to find her at the worst times, immediately jumping to question her — and he isn’t someone who takes it well when brushed off. The sad look on his face was somewhat endearing when you simply have a crush on the guy, yes. Not so endearing when you’re actively hiding something, though.
“What do you need, Louis?” Clementine asked with a sigh, trying to adjust her arm in a way that didn’t have her sleeve brushing against her skin.
“Is AJ not in here tonight?” Louis avoided answering, noticing the fact AJ wasn’t in his bed.
“He’s hanging out with Willy; he’ll probably sleep over again.” Clementine rushed out, “Do you have something important to say, or can I shut this door in your face?”
Louis looked back at Clementine, noticing the anxious look on her face, “Are— are you okay? You’re being a little…”
“A little what?” Clementine cut him off, “I’m fine.”
Louis looked down at Clementine’s fidgeting arm, noticing a trail of blood leaking down to her hand.
“Are you bleeding?” Louis asked with a concerned tone. He reached out to take hold of her hand, which Clementine promptly pulled back. She looked at the blood, a few drops ending up on the floor.
“Must’ve opened up an old scar on accident.” Clementine said, which technically wasn’t a lie, “It’s fine.”
“That looks like a lot of blood. Shouldn’t you, like, bandage it?” Louis increasingly grew more concerned.
“No use wasting supplies.” Clementine pushed out a reason.
“It’s not a waste if you need it.” Louis raised a brow, “Look, I’ll go get some stuff from the nurse’s office to patch you up.”
“You don’t need to—“ Clementine tried to say, but Louis had already taken off down the corridor.
Shit.
Shit shit shit.
It was fine. He didn’t know what actually happened yet. She was still good.
She rubbed her forehead gently with the non-blood-stained hand, moving to sit down on her bed. She applied pressure to the wound through her sleeve, grunting a bit at the pain.
Soon enough, Louis was back in the room, juggling a few medical supplies in his arms.
“Okay, uh,” Louis started, putting the supplies on the dresser, “roll up your sleeve.”
Clementine made no move to do so, “I can patch myself up.”
“I know you can, but are you actually going to?” Louis looked her in the eye, “Why are you so skittish about this? You’re not hiding a bite under there, right?”
“Jesus, no.” Clementine shook her head, “I wouldn’t do that.”
“Then what are you so concerned about?” Louis asked, “I’m not gonna judge you.”
Clementine looked away from him, avoiding his pleading eyes.
Louis made his way into her view again, ensuring she was looking at him, “You know I’m not gonna judge you, right?”
“I wouldn’t be so quick to say that.” Clementine whispered, evading his gaze once again.
“We all have a lot of scars, trust me. It’s more weird if you don’t have any.” Louis assured her, “You probably got yours from being a badass, anyway. A lot of mine are just from me being an idiot.”
“That’s not— you’re not an idiot.” Clementine scoffed, “And these scars are…different.”
“Clementine,” Louis spoke with a serious tone, causing her to look up at him, “just let me help you. I swear to you, I’m not gonna judge you for whatever’s under that sleeve.”
Clementine paused. He wasn’t going to let this one go, was he?
She sighed, “I’m not gonna bother holding you to that.”
She held her arm out to him, giving him permission to roll the sleeve up.
Louis looked at it for a moment, unsure of what to do. He probably didn’t think his pleading was going to work.
He knelt down so he didn’t have to bend over, gently taking hold of her hand. Clementine flushed slightly at the contact. Louis carefully rolled up her sleeve, trying not to hurt her.
Clementine didn’t miss Louis’ slight flinch at the sight of her scars. Though he didn’t speak, his eyes remained locked on her arm for a few seconds.
Eventually, he tore his eyes away and grabbed a small towel, pouring a bit of peroxide on it. He began intricately cleaning the wound. This time, Clementine was the one who flinched.
“Sorry.” Louis mumbled quietly.
“Don’t apologize.” Clementine sighed.
Louis moved on to wrapping the cuts in the bandages, still refusing to look Clementine in the eye.
Once he finished, he stood up and put the roll of bandages back on the dresser.
“Nothing to say then?” Clementine raised a brow.
“You don’t want me to say anything about it.” Louis acknowledged.
“But you do want to say something about it.” Clementine said, “Just say it.”
“I understand why you didn’t wanna show me now.” Louis scratched his neck.
“Hm.” Clementine hummed.
“I know I’m not gonna be able to stop you from…doing that, but if you ever need to talk, you know where my room is.” Louis told her.
With that, he picked up the medical supplies and left the room.
Clementine wished he stayed longer.
———
It was a while before Clementine took Louis up on his offer.
Louis never brought what happened up to anyone else, which surprised her. She figured he would’ve told someone. He generally had a difficult time keeping anything a secret.
He treated her like normal — like he did before he found out. Occasionally, he sent a few concerned glances to her when she rubbed or clawed at her wrists, causing her to stop.
She continued like before, sneaking off every so often when she needed a release.
That’s what she planned on doing tonight.
AJ was asleep in his bed, curled up in a way similar to Rosie when she slept.
Clementine sighed, making sure her knife was in her pocket before exiting their room.
She planned on going to the same closet as usual, but her eyes landed on the door to Louis’s room.
God damn it.
Clementine walked to the front of his door, hesitating slightly before knocking twice.
No response. He was probably asleep.
Shit, now she felt stupid.
She rubbed a hand over her face, preparing to go to the closet like she originally intended.
The door finally opened. Clementine stared at Louis for a moment, “Did I wake you up?”
Louis didn’t have his usual coat on, leaving him in his green shirt that has definitely seen better days. She still thought it looked good on him.
“No. Maybe.” Louis answered, flashing a shy smile, “It doesn’t matter. I’d sacrifice my sleep for you any day.”
“Can I come in then?” Clementine asked, crossing her arms.
Louis stepped back, giving her room to walk in, and bowed dramatically, “Why of course, m’lady.”
Clementine snorted lightly, walking into the room. Louis shut the door behind her, going back to sitting on his bed. She took a seat next to him, scooting back and leaning her back against the wall.
“So, did you need to…talk?” Louis asked awkwardly, avoiding her gaze.
Clementine shrugged, “I don’t know. I didn’t even plan on coming to your room.”
“Well, I’m glad you did.” Louis sent her a small smile. Clementine looked away, feeling her cheeks flush slightly.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, doing nothing except the occasional fidget of a hand or adjusting their posture.
Eventually, Clementine spoke, “I don’t know why I started.”
Louis looked over to her, a surprised look on his face. He asked her a question, “When exactly did you start?”
“Years ago now. I was probably thirteen, I think.” Clementine answered.
“Jesus.” Louis breathed out, “I’m sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for? It was my own doing.” Clementine brushed his apology off.
“I just…feel bad.” Louis said. He noticed Clementine was about to speak, so he jumped in before she could, “And I know you hate people ‘pitying’ you, but I can’t really help it.”
Clementine rolled her eyes. He knew her too well.
“I have to ask…why?” Louis started, “Like, why do you do it? Is that okay to ask?”
“It depends.” Clementine shrugged, “In the beginning, I only really did it when something pissed me off, or just made me upset. Now, I just…do it for basically no reason sometimes. I don’t know, it’s like part of my routine at this point. Wake up, do what I have to do for the group, eat dinner, put AJ to bed, sneak off to cut myself, go to sleep.”
“You say it so casually.” Louis commented.
“‘Cause it is casual. To me, at least.” Clementine retorted.
“Have you ever tried to stop?” Louis wondered.
“Kind of. I’ve thought about it. There was a time about a year after I started that I thought I could stop, and then I figured out that I just…had to do it. I couldn’t just quit straight up.” Clementine told him.
“So, it’s an addiction.” Louis acknowledged. Clementine flinched slightly at that word, looking away in shame.
“I don’t like using that word.” Clementine said.
“It’s what it is, though.” Louis pushed before asking another question, “Do you…ever want to stop?”
Clementine had to think about that one.
The sneaking around got exhausting. The constant fear of the others finding out wore her out as well. Not to mention, she was covered in sweat during the summer heat, but she couldn’t take her jacket off.
“I don’t know, maybe. It would feel weird to stop now, as if something were missing.” Clementine sighed, “Having to wear long sleeves all the time sucks, I’ll say that.”
“I was always curious why you refused to take your jacket off, even in the summer.” Louis admitted.
“Well, you know now, so there’s no point keeping my jacket on around you at this point.” Clementine shrugged her jacket off, tossing it to the side, “Thank God, it’s fucking hot in here. Don’t know how you sleep like this.”
Louis’ eyes were drawn to the scars that decorated her wrists. He stared at them, almost analyzing them, as if they would be able to show him the array of reasons they were put there.
“You know the others wouldn’t judge you either, right?” Louis tried.
“Don’t even start. Having you know is already too much.” Clementine shut his idea down.
“Just saying. If you ever wanna tell them, I’m here for you.” Louis assured her.
“I know.” Clementine shook her head, “God, why are you so nice?”
Louis raised a brow, “Are you actually asking me that, or is it rhetorical? Or…are you asking God that? Didn’t think you were religious.”
“It’s so stupid.” Clementine didn’t answer his question or acknowledge his antics, beginning to rant, “This world is so fucking shit, and in the middle of all of it, there’s you. It doesn’t make any sense. I’ve met so many people who have just fucking shot people, robbed people, tortured people for no damn reason. And here you are, trying to comfort me over something that’s completely my fault.”
Louis wasn’t sure how to respond to that, except for, “Thank you? I think…”
“You’re so stupid.” Clementine began to laugh, rubbing her hand over her face.
“Okay, I revoke my thank you…” Louis said, though he was laughing along with her, “What is so funny!”
Clementine couldn’t respond, too busy doubling over to laugh. It wasn’t even that funny, but she couldn’t help it.
“Stop laughing!” Louis said between his own laughs.
Clementine’s laughs slowly transformed back into small giggles, leaning back against the wall.
“I know I’m funny, but seriously,” Louis complimented himself, “I don’t think you’ve ever laughed that hard at an actual joke I’ve made.”
“You’re more funny when you aren’t trying to be funny.” Clementine told him.
“Uh, are you trying to say my jokes aren’t that funny? That’s pretty rude, Clementine. I think you owe me an—“
“I’m in love with you.”
“What?” Louis blinked a few times.
“I’m in love with you.” Clementine repeated.
“Say it one more time…” Louis requested.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Clementine groaned, “I am in love with you.”
Louis smirked, “Technically, you said ‘I’m’ the first two times, so…”
“Okay, well, I’m gonna punch you.”
“Didn’t you just say you’re in love with me?”
“Two things can be true.” Clementine reasoned, “You’re also kind of leaving me on the edge here.”
“I thought it was kind of a given that I’m in love with you, too.” Louis said, “I’ve been told I’m not great at hiding it.”
“Good at hiding it from me.” Clementine scoffed, “How long?”
“Probably since the day you crashed your car. and I carried you to the school.” Louis confessed.
“You’re the one that carried me?” Clementine asked.
Louis nodded, flexing his arm, “All thanks to this muscle, you know.”
“Stop it.” Clementine shook her head before leaning it against the wall.
He flashed a toothy grin. As he did it, his eyes squinted into somewhat of a wink.
Louis kept the smile on his face, his eyes locked on Clementine’s. She felt like shying away from his gaze, but she kept her eyes focused on his.
“Can I kiss you?” Clementine asked in a nervous tone.
“Can’t say no to a face like that.” Louis flirted.
Clementine tentatively took hold of Louis’ chin in her hand, rubbing her thumb gently across his bottom lip before leaning in. When their lips met, she noticed the smoothness of his compared to the roughness of her own.
Louis leaned back slightly, but Clementine was quick to pull him back with the grip she had on his chin. Their lips met again, more desperate this time. It made her feel like a normal teenager for once. It vaguely reminded her of those shitty teen dramas Sandra would always let Clementine watch with her — as long as Clementine promised not to tell her parents, that is.
It was a little messy. Honestly, it should’ve disgusted her, but getting one taste of Louis’ mouth had her wondering if she would ever be able to back away.
Despite the desperation in their kiss, Louis gently took hold of her free hand, inching his way up her arm. He ran his fingers across the layers of scars on her skin. He treated them as if they were the keys of a piano, curiously pressing against them every so often, trying to memorize the notes.
They separated their lips, much to their disappointment, but they had to breathe somehow. Clementine snuck her head into the crook of Louis’ neck, taking a few short breaths.
“Quite a turn of events tonight, huh?” Louis joked, out of breath but still laughing slightly.
“Shut up.” Clementine told him, covering his mouth with her hand.
Sure, this wouldn’t fix the amount of damage she’s done to herself — to her mind — but it was at least an improvement.
She had to want to heal, and the school was something she found herself wanting to heal for.
Louis lifted her head from his shoulder, removed her hand from his mouth, and landed another quick kiss on her lips.
Having some support helped.