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a-vild-bluemyrtle · 4 years ago

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On how to find your way home | SethxOC | Post Breaking Dawn - First Chapter

Read it also on: - FF.net - AO3 - Wattpad

Masterpost - find all the chapters: here

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Prologue: tumblr post - FF.net - AO3 - Wattpad

Second Chapter - TWO: tumblr post - FF.net - AO3 - Wattpad

Third Chapter - THREE:- tumblr post - FF.net - AO3 - Wattpad

Fourth Chapter - FOUR: - tumblr post - FF.net - AO3 - Wattpad

ONE

“Good evening passengers. This is your captain speaking. First, I'd like to welcome everyone on the Flight 86A from New York to Seattle. We are currently cruising at an altitude of 33,000 feet at an airspeed of 400 miles per hour. The weather looks good and with the tailwind on our side, we are expecting to land in Seattle approximately at 6 AM. I'll talk to you again before we reach our destination. Until then, sit back, relax, and enjoy the rest of the flight."

I don't even listen to the captain's speech, too focused on opening my sketchbook, taking out my colored pencils from my light blue backpack. I feel the urge to draw, as it has been happening for years. I start drawing some lines, with a light brown color, almost a sand-ish color, and all of a sudden, these lines become eyes, big languid eyes, surrounded by a silky and fluffy fur. And from these eyes, that for years have hunted me and my worst nightmares, other lines depart, and I found myself drawing a wolf muzzle. It is always the same wolf, same color, same deep eyes that seem to dig deep into my soul and shatter me from the inside.

Looking at my wolf, as I call him, having grown so familiar with him after all these years, a chill seizes me. Something is wrong with me, I can feel it in my veins, in my blood. My body is frenetic, electric, I feel again the urge to draw; and this time I find myself defining the lines of a lake, surrounded by dark green trees. My right-hand moves faster on the sketchbook, my eyes immediately close and I can feel myself near that lake.

I am there, sitting on the shore.

I can see my legs… smaller, moving into the water.

“Come in, Cordelia!”

A man with russet skin and the sweetest brown eyes smiles at me, raising his arms from the shiny translucent water of the lake and moving them to make me see him.

The sun is hidden beyond a grey veil of storm clouds and a light breeze moves my long, thick black hair. I can hear other people laughing, having fun swimming in the lake. I can recognize some of those voices… they seem so familiar.

The same man that called me a few minutes back reaches the shore and sits next to me.

“My dear…” he caresses my hair.

I look at him, smiling.

“Since when you’re afraid of the water, little mermaid?” he asks me, his hand now caressing my cheek and a lovely smile appearing on his face, a smile I knew I could never forget.

I can feel the touch of his warm hand on my cheek, but it’s just a brief moment. It disappears in seconds. Suddenly, mixed feelings of nostalgia, happiness, and warmth overwhelm me. I haven’t felt this way since… I don’t even remember. My head becomes lighter and I surrender to that memory, letting go of my pencils. I lean back, sighing in awe, and a bittersweet smile appears on my face. I have always liked to be able to remember such happy moments of my childhood before everything changed, before I changed… for good.

But these same memories, that always seem so vivid and real, have the power to destroy me, to break me into tiny little pieces, impossible to recollect. There is something in these memories of mine, something that keeps haunting me, calling me. I always feel like they are hiding an important message, one I cannot read.

And every time I find myself so shattered, all I can do is thinking of how things would have been if mom and I had never left… How my life could have been if I had been there during the “accident”.

***

I stretch my arms and hands as I am walking towards the baggage reclaim area, seven hours of flight meant seven hours of drawing like a psychopath, and my hands are burning. My sketchbook is now full, but I knew it could have happened, that’s why I have backups with me.

Once collected my two too-much-huge suitcases, I walk to the first Starbucks I can find at the Seattle airport. All I can think about is coffee, I need one, the strongest one and I need to call mom too or her rage will travel through the States and hit me directly on the face. No one can mess with Emmie Black, especially me, her only daughter.

I dial her number, knowing that she must have spent the entire night awake, praying our gods that I was safe during my travel.

“FINALLY, YOU CALLED!”

I swear, this woman can reach notes that Ariana Grande can only dream about.

“How was the travel? Are you ok? Did they feed you?” It’s even useless to mention all the other hundred questions she is asking in less than a minute.

When will she stop being an overprotective mother?

Never.

I sigh, giggling.

“Mom, I am fine and yes, they fed me… I guess. A glass of orange juice is still something for a cheap flight”. I answer, taking a sip of coffee.

“Did you call Billy?”

“No, mom. It’s too early in the morning, I don’t want to bother him. I am going to take a taxi or rent a car”. Another sigh, but this time is from her.

“I told you to call him, he was ecstatic when I told him that you were going home, and he offered to give you a ride.” She says resigned.

“I won't wake him up at 6 a.m. mom! Nor him, or Jacob or Rachel… end of the story!” I reply with too much sarcasm in my voice, rolling my eyes.

“Manners, young lady, it’s your mother you’re talking to”.

"Forgive me, mother dear, for I was pusillanimous". I say teasing her, knowing that if she was with me, she would have hit me on the back of the head for my tone.

“Just call me again when you arrive in La Push, baby. Grandpa’s house is still at the same place, you should remember the street”. Her tone is now sweet and lovely and worried, I can feel her concern from here. Although she agreed to let me come back, she is still worried about how the forced coexistence of me and my father in the same little reservation could go. And although I told her that nothing would change and he would not speak to me, not once, she keeps being super worried. Mother's sixth sense, you know.

“Yes, I’m going to call you from the house. Now back to sleep, Mrs. It’s Sunday and I am sure your toy boy of a husband is waiting for you”. I tease her again, making her laugh. I love hearing her laughing so joyfully, she deserves to be this happy.

I don’t but she does.

“Alright, I’ll catch you later. Bye baby, love you!”

“Love you too, bye!”

Seth’s POV

“Could you please explain to me why on Earth you always chose me for patrolling on Saturday nights? You know that there are other people in the pack, right? RIGHT?!”

I am almost screaming in rage. I wanted to sleep and not spending my Saturday night- AGAIN - patrolling the reservation borders.

“Come on man, you were the only one free… we were busy”. Paul replies, stuffing his mouth with chocolate chips pancakes and looking at me with malice in his eyes.

I growl, fully understanding what that “busy” means. And I shiver in disgust. I already have to handle with his thoughts about a completely naked and sweaty Rachel every time he phases, I just don’t want to think about it… guess I am thinking about it now.

“I am sorry Seth, next Saturday it’s on Colin and Embry”. Replies a very tired Sam.

Tu quoque, Sam?!

“I swear, all this pack can think about is sex. Could you please stop for a day?” I continue, sitting at the table and overloading my plate with classic pancakes.

Chocolate chips… ewh!

“I am waiting for the moment you find your imprint, Seth, and finally start having a huge amount of good sex. On that day, you will understa-”. That is Jared speaking with a stupid smirk on his face, a Jared that cannot even finish his sentence because Kim suddenly hits him on the back of his head.

"Leave him alone and finish eating, you pig". She says trying hard to seem annoyed, but she cannot be… you know, because of the imprint thing that makes you and your imprintee really really happy every fucking single time.

I wink at her, mouthing “thanks”.

During these five years, I have made my peace with the fact that maybe the Clearwater’s were destined to not found their true soulmates. Leah has not yet imprinted, so haven’t I. Sometimes I think that maybe it’s the “Clearwater’s curse", you know. Sam leaves Leah for Emily, Dad dies when Leah and I first phase, leaving us poor as hell (as everyone in this reservation is), then almost everyone in the pack imprints on someone human or not human, but we don’t, neither after 5 years.

Maybe we don’t deserve it, or better… Leah deserves it, I don’t. Maybe I am not soulmates material.

Leah looks at me, concerned as always, knowing exactly what I am thinking. She smiles, and I smile with her. At least I have mom and her, who I love more than words can describe.

Besides, we are practically immortal, so maybe our imprints are not even born yet.

Creepy.

Fortunately enough, my sad thoughts are interrupted by a very energetic and enthusiastic Billy who arrives at Emily’s and Sam’s for the usual “Sunday Pack Breakfast”, followed by the not-naked and not-sweaty Rachel.

“Hey, dad! Why so happy? Did we become rich over the night?” Jake asks while holding tight a now 15-years-old Nessie. She keeps growing so fast, it’s starting to become scary.

“No, better!” He replies smiling more. “Your cousin is finally coming back home, I think she is already here, at old Grandpa’s house”. He continues, drinking the coffee Rachel gave him a few moments back.

No one talks for a good minute.

“My what?!” Jake asks astonished, with his mouth opened.

“Our cousin, Jake. Dad has a sister that was once married and has a daughter. I used to babysit her, and we always spent the summer together with grandpa at the lake. Don’t you remember?” Rachel explains.

“Why didn’t we know anything about her?” I ask, chewing my second serving of pancakes.

Rachel and Billy look at each other, their smiles disappearing from their faces.

“It’s a long story, not ours to tell. But she is here, finally. Where she belongs”.

Billy’s words are serious, and I am not the only one who has noticed the change in his tone and the rage with which he is looking at Embry, who seems not be interested at all in this new arrival and keeps looking at his consumed shoes with a strange expression painted on his face.

After a few minutes of silence, Billy becomes friendly again and starts looking at each and every one of us.

“And now that she is here, I suggest you be nice to her and help her in any case. Clear?"

This sounds more like a threat than a suggestion, but no one will ever question Billy’s words. His wishes are our commands, and neither Sam nor Jake could escape his orders, especially when he is angry, so practically half of the time.

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mercurygray · 2 years ago

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OKAY SO WE'RE DONE. Roughly 6.5K notes and 25,000 votes later.

To everyone in my comments saying 'lol you set this poll up wrong sample size is irrelevant no meaningful results' - thank you, I'm well aware I'm not a statistician. This is a poll on tumblr, for pete's sake. I'm not using it for anything important. I was bored earlier this week and one of my servers was having a really wild conversation about reading and finding fic and I wanted to hear what people had to say.

I don't actually care all that much about the percentages in the answers to the poll itself - I was pretty sure AO3 was going to win by a fair bit. I was more interested in the open ends - what everyone said when they reblogged it AND what they said about platforms I don't know about and don't use myself.

Yes, I'm aware that my idiot self left out fanfiction.net. People brought that up in the comments several times. I am aware. People who mentioned ff.net did so with a lot of nostalgia, yes, but also called out the site's limited tagging features for characters and genre selection as a plus, rather than a negative. They liked having a slightly more guided experience for classifying a story. They also brought up the fact that, before the ads started appearing, the site was actually pretty user friendly and had a clean text interface.

Other people in the comments had a lot of hate for Wattpad, but there are some folks who love it, too. More than several people brought up inline commenting - the ability to comment 'in real time' on a fic, which, admittedly, is a really cool feature. (These folks also talked about how much they hate the ads!)

People talked a lot about accessibility settings when they talked about AO3 - the ability to customize the site using plugins so that it would do something like dark mode or change the font. They talked about downloading fics to read on their e-reader of choice. There is a lot of love for tags and the search feature.

(It was also really nice to see all the folks in the comments who saw someone above them in the reblog chain pointing out how you could make a dark mode happen on AO3 if you didn't know already! This made my heart grow several sizes.)

Not too many people brought up the fact that I also skipped mentioning Twitter or Instagram, but one commenter did bring up the fact that they LIKE fics on Twitter because it breaks the text up and makes it easier for them to read, which I'd never thought about before. Textbreaks like that could be an accessibility feature!

Folks who like reading fic on Tumblr talked about low barriers to entry and making it easy to share something they liked. Lots of people also talked about losing something they liked reading and the lack of a cogent search feature - which is a known issue.

Folks who brought up dreamwidth or LJ (or several other 'threaded' comment-based platforms I'm not familiar with) spoke about the ability to continue a story in comments, about the culture of readers and writers in those spaces.

Everyone talked about losing their place in a fic, about losing a fic they liked, about losing track of authors. That, at least, is universal.

Anyway, thanks for sharing with me! I have to say getting this much emotion in my activity and replies was …probably not what I needed this week, but that's okay. I was just curious, and you all satisfied my curiosity tenfold. It was cool listening to everyone talk about something they love a lot.

This question is not about whether or not you enjoy the quality or quantity of the writing that's available there, but rather the experience of reading the fic.

If you reblog this, would love to hear reasons for why you like one platform over another.

#long post #fandom #fanfic #anyway I'll be glad to have my activity feed back now #this has been f'ing wild

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sihandjunjoucatalogue · 5 years ago

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Nostalgia (Takano x Ritsu) Masterlist

Awkward Moments (wattpad) - mack575757

Summary: It's Valentine's Day and Ritsu doesn't know what to do. Takano keeps pressuring him to do something, but Ritsu can't think!

Being Honest (ao3) - Jodie_Alexandra

Summary: A new career; a fresh start. That was what Onodera Ritsu thought when he entered his career at Marukawa Publishing. He didn't think that he would meet his high-school love in this place...As his boss!

How to keep care of your neko (wattpad) - iwriteyoaifanfics

Summary: Takano wakes up to find a neko Ritsu at first it was pretty normal, but Ritsu finds out that he will have to save the world with the SIH group

I Don't Love You... Yet (wattpad) - Warrior_Elli

Summary: Have you ever fell in love and then had it broken?

Onodera Ritsu has.. He was in love with Saga Masamune, but because of a rumor and a question, all that love was shatter. Onodera moved to England and because of some family problems Masamune's last name turned to Takano.

Now 10 years later Onodera quite his father's writing company and joined Marukawa Shoten's Emerald department. On his first day he meets Takano. It seems Takano remembers him, but Onodera doesn't.

Will Onodera remember? Will he fall in Love with Takano again? Will he reveal what really happened in the past?

I Need You (wattpad) - Karushii

Summary: After a reunion with his first love, Onodera Ritsu finds himself falling in love with Takano Masamune once again. He'd been feeling uneasy until he discovered something unexpected that he shouldn't have seen.

Love is Patient, Love is Kind (Except When It's Not) (ao3) - fencer_x

Summary: Takano reflects on how it feels to confess.

Onodera's Plan (ao3) - Katzenkinder

Summary: Onodera had a sack of beer and a plan. It wasn’t a good one, but at a 12:30 AM it seemed ok.

Penpals (ao3) - Its_oikawa_you_ass

Summary: Onodera Ritsu falls in love with his penpal Saga Masamune, but things don't end well between them. 10 years later, Onodera starts working for Marukawa Publishing where he meets Takano.

Ritsu’s Demons (tumblr)- ritsundere-takanonymous

Summary: Onodera Ritsu is a photojournalist who is assigned a particular case on the Cult Members that are related to the killings that have occurred throughout the past few months. When he thinks he got the perfect shot of a member, he is kidnapped and has to face the cult by himself. What will happen to Onodera as he is faced with these demon worshippers? A journalist lives for the thrills of danger, but God forbid they die for it.

Ritsu the Maid (ff.net) - ReallyRitsu

Summary: Ritsu and Takano made a bet, a bet about turning in something on a deadline. The winner can make the loser do whatever they want. Note, we're talking about Ritsu and deadlines. Ritsu ends up loosing and Takano wants him to be his maid. How well can this go?

Say You Love Me, Ritsu (ff.net) - catwiththetattoo

Summary: Takano is away on business, and Ritsu misses him.

#sihandjunjoucatalogue #sekaiichi hatsukoi fanfics #junjou romantics fanfics #masterlists #nostalgia #nostalgia masterlist

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carbootsoul · 4 years ago

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i was tagged by @katarahairloopies!!! thank u :mwah:

name: leo! @/zeitgeistofnow on ao3, @lazypigeon & @timetohope on here, altho i’m considering uh switching back to not having an art blog :/ i have to think abt it.

fandom(s): ace attorney is my main one rn bc i’m replaying the games with a friend of mine and it’s reminding me how invested i am in the characters!! a lot of my recent fic is atla stuff, altho i’ve been distancing myself from the fandom bc i’ve kinda exhausted my interest in it. finally i’ve been reading a lot of mp100 fic but i don’t think i’ll ever write for it. i just love how dumb all the characters r (with the dubious exception of ritsu)

where you post: ao3!! tbh i always get suprised when people say they write/read fic on any other platform like i haven’t messed around w wattpad or ff.net since middle school... catch up........

most popular oneshot: going just by “one chapter” as the definition of a oneshot, the firestarters, bc it’s fluffy and modern au :) i wouldn’t necessarily call it a oneshot tho bc to me a oneshot shows like, one scene? so like by my definition and your sweet sweet sun makes me crazy (i wanna lay you down and see how you amaze me is my most popular!! (also @ kit u thought UR fic titles were unnecessarily long??? i’ve hit the ao3 LIMIT for characters in titles. it’s about the aesthetic

most popular multichapter fic: sdkjflakjlkj it’s two crowned kings; and one that stood alone, which is a w359 fic i wrote back in late 2017. it’s literally the last fic i haven’t orphaned from when i actually wrote podcast fic (i have 4 other podcast fics but they were all borne out of nostalgia and written after i stopped participating in the fandom). i rewrote all but the last chapter? the last two? about a year ago and i fucked up halfway through so like chapter 6 and 7 are repeated and there’s something missing but i’m too lazy to fix it. no one’s going to read it now anyway :) it WAS the top minlace fic for a little while tho which i take great pride in.

favorite story you’ve written so far: oh that’s a hard question akfsldkfj i honestly like most of them!! and i write a LOT so there’s a lot to choose from. tonight, we are young is def one of my favorites- it was fun to write and i got to explore the ways zuko and yue r similar, which i LOVE to do outside of a zukka/yukka view. you can lean on my arm as you break my heart is one that i’m really proud of? the whole “cooking as an expression of bato’s love” is definitely some of my favorites. a lot of my ace attorney fics would be categoried as my favorites if i hadn’t improved, too, if that makes sense. like they’re no long my favorites because i can see where my writing is shitty and it bothers me, but if i had written them a month ago they’d be my favorite.

fic you were nervous to post: figures 1-5: killing gods def!! it’s a lot more purple-prose-y than most of my fics and it was also written before i’d kinda like emersed myself in the atla fandom so i didn’t have as good a grasp on the general understanding of zuko’s character as i do now. tbh it’s one i’m rly happy w tho!! i have a few people leave really nice comments on it and rereading them makes me really happy. also it was the start of me hating the position of fire lord and being at least passively anti-it in my fics.

how you choose your titles: they’re almost all song lyrics!! only 14 of my 50 words AREN’T song lyrics and about half of those are from before i started writing ace attorney fic lol. sometimes i go into a fic with a song in mind for the vibes and then i usually go with lyrics from that (like in ‘cuz we’re the greatest /they’ll hang us in the louvre), but otherwise i usually pick an artist i’ve been listening to and go through their songs until i find a lyric that fits. sometimes the lyric doesn’t even really fit the fic and i just chose it at random or because i searching up the word “fly” in my spotify library or whatever. honestly i like coming up with titles? i know a lot of fic writers hate it but being able to just use song lyrics is v soothing for me and while i know that most people won’t search out a song just bc it’s a fic title like.. seeing that the title of a fic is a hozier lyric does affect how i read it and i kinda like that.

do you outline? i outline my long form/multichaptered fics with varying strictness. usually anything over ~8k will have some kind of outline. sometimes i go into it with every single scene planned out, sometimes it’s just notes on the side of the google doc that say “it's about MORE family. about how it's not betraying your existing family to find more” and “scenes i want to include: [...]” and “vampires... ngl kinda hot.” i’m trying to outline super strictly less bc i’ve found it’s less fun? but i do try to keep a plot arc in mind. since most of my fics are more character-driven than plot-driven, that usually just means keeping track of what character development i want to happen or what is motiviating the characters.

complete: um everything posted on ao3 i guess. also the MULTITUDE of orphaned fics out there asksfjldkj i always click ‘leave my pseud on’ so if u look up my username you see all of my fics and then a. lot of other ones.

in progress: - a fic titled ‘dad phoenix’ that is actually just a no DL-6 au with defense attorney miles edgeworth and single dad bartender phoenix where neither of them want to date for A While but phoenix gets wrapped up in one of miles’s cases. it’s about family. it’s about writing teenagers. it’s about the background franmaya which is ALWAYS what i’m here for in wrightworth fics - a franmaya werewolf/vampire au because i’m ~gay~ and love rivals to lovers and also franziska and maya both being angry their older brothers r dating each other. - my secret santa fic!! which i can’t talk about much but it does feature toph and zuko and also piandao and jeong jeong???? idk where they came from but they are Part Of The Fic Now also i forgot iroh existed for half the fic and wrote piandao as zuko’s father figure and now i’m in too deep. - a 5+1 bakoda fic (maybe a bato/hakoda/kay fic??? i need to decide. that’s part of why this fic is still incomplete bc i can’t decide which relationship dynamic i prefer) that’s 5 times bato said he loves hakoda and one time hakoda said it back. possibly i have already written him saying i love u back and i need to change the title a little. - retail au klapollo where klavier works at an overpriced boutique and apollo comes in to buy earrings for nahyuta’s birthday. klavier gives him a punch card (one that the store doesn’t actually offer anymore as a bid to get apollo to come back) and all of apollo’s family come in to use the punch card and also give klavier variations on the shovel talk/find out if he’s actually into apollo. - a LOT of atla fics that i don’t think i’ll ever finish :(

coming soon/not yet started: - i want to write some blackmadhi bc they’re.. cute..... and it’s a good excuse to also write athena and i love her - my stuff for yueki week!!! i have NOT prepped enough but hopefully i’ll remember in time! i wrote the prompts in a way that kinda set up stuff i’ve already wanted to write (don’t look at me lol) so hopefully i’ll get at least two or three fics finished in time. - i want to rewrite the wrightworth fic i have about them not getting married bc it was interesting and i like what i wrote about but i think i could have written it better and made it more interesting. rewriting fics is hard tho bc i’m never sure if it makes sense to just edit in the new work or to repost it? and then if u repost it do u delete the old one? conflicting so i might just not

do you accept prompts? totally!!! a disclaimer tho i’m not super into writing atla stuff anymore (most of the atla stuff i’m still writing is something i made a commitment to finish) so if your prompt is an atla one i probably won’t do it :/ basically anything else is fair game tho!! podcasts/aa/sa/uh i don’t remember anything else but like if you search a fandom on my blog and come up with more than two posts about it chances r i’d be happy to write fic for it!

upcoming work that you’re most excited about: oh huh i mean probably the no dl-6 au!!! it’s the longest ace attorney fic i’ve written already and since it’s wrightworth it’ll get more attention than any franmaya fic i write. my standards r so high now tho after getting to much feedback from atla fans... love u all... obviously i have no choice but to pressure my atla mutuals into playing ace attorney. pls ask abt it bc i WIll Give You A Sales Pitch about why you’d like it in relation to atla

tagging: i’m not rly tagging anyone!!! @deadflora if you still consider urself a fic writer also consider urself tagged! also any of my other mutuals who write fic i just can’t think of anyone rn

#leo.txt #thank u!! i think i wrote a lot for this lol #but literally ive been so bored i don't have anything better to do

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stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale · 5 years ago

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with you [chapter one]

Summary: Clementine pops the question, Louis has nightmares, Violet can’t let go of the past, Mitch doesn't know how to handle gross feelings, Ruby's a goddamn sweetheart, Willy doesn’t ever remember to knock, Aasim can't dance, and James is here, too.

Nothing like a wedding to bring this family together.

Note: Holy shit, you mean I’m finally posting actual [with you] stuff again? Yeah, I can’t believe it either. If for whatever reason you don’t know why this is being re-uploaded, then you can find all the information on this post here. If you have any more questions, please feel free to ask.

Otherwise, I want to thank everyone for taking the time to read my stories and for the support y’all have given me through this nonsense haha. It truly means a lot, and I can’t tell you how nervous I am about posting this because I AM proud of it and I want y’all to like it, too!

So, I hope you enjoy it! Thank you! ❤️

Ch1 | Ch2

Read on: AO3 | FF.net | Wattpad

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A supply run to the train stationed was a spur of the moment decision.

While finishing up their morning hunting trip- checking and resetting traps, hunting adult rabbits and capturing any babies for their ever-growing rabbit farm- it seemed their duties were done. Just as they were ready to head back, Louis mentioned it wasn’t too far away.

“Up for a little adventure?”

Given that they’ve torn the place apart, Clementine wasn’t sure if it’s really an adventure to travel that way anymore, but AJ was more than willing to go back and look around.

She figured it wouldn’t be so awful to go and collect anything they might’ve missed from their previous trips, though she felt this was more of an excuse to stay out longer, to enjoy the cool air and each other’s company.

Aasim deemed it a waste of time, choosing to take back everything they collected and meet up with Mitch and Willy, mumbling something about repairing one of the gates.

Up ahead, but not too far, Louis tells some crazy, exaggerated story as AJ hangs on to every word. Something about Aasim and a shark, she gathers. It’s ridiculous enough to make her rolls her eyes but smile all the same, especially when AJ calls him out on absurd details.

“Aasim doesn’t have a peg leg!”

“Or does he? Tell me this, has anyone actually ever seen Aasim’s bare leg? No, and that’s because it’s a peg stuffed into a boot.”

“No, it’s not!”

Clementine spots a walker lingering in the trees from the corner of her eye, its head twitching with interest at the sound of the boys’ laughter.

It’s the first one she’s spotted today, likely due to James doing his part of their arrangement.

They worked out a decent system when first offering him a place to stay; anywhere they plan to hunt or scavenge, they let James know in advance so he can gather and lead stray walkers away, making trips a lot easier and quicker. In exchange, he’s welcome to stay in a room and eat with them whenever he wants.

He rarely stays multiple nights in a row, but Clementine’s glad to see him and the others get along when he does stick around.

She picks up a large rock and chucks it. The walker follows the noise with a low gurgle.

The decrepit train station is empty.

The dead couple remains as left; slumped over, tied to their chairs, and still holding hands.

They try and gather as much as they can, like salvageable, leftover food hidden beneath the trap door, duct tape and a few bandages. Clementine finds a working lighter beneath the table, stuffing it in her pocket as heavy thump vibrates behind her.

“Oh-ho!” Louis calls out from behind the counter. “Looks like I found your secret stash.”

Clementine quirks a brow, leaning over the counter to peer down at him. He flashes her a bright smile and waves a beaten up chocolate bar.

“Seriously?” When she tries to reach for it, he teasingly jerks it away.

“I don’t think so, darling,” he pockets the bar. “Gotta save stuff like that for a special occasion.”

“Special occasion,” she scoffs. “Like?”

“Like when it’s your birthday, or if it’s someone else’s birthday and you forgot to get them a present,” Louis glances away, shrugging a shoulder with a sheepish grin, “or, y’know, for date night.”

“Date night, huh?”

“Woah...”

From behind her, AJ shuffling around the dead couple, unfolding something small and gray. Upon a closer look, Clementine can tell it’s a wallet, and from it, AJ pulls out a five-dollar bill.

“Look at that,” Louis approaches the boy with a grin, “looks like dinner’s on AJ.”

“Huh?”

Louis takes the wallet and pulls out some credit cards. “By the looks of it, we’re getting a three-course meal.”

“With extra dessert,” Clementine smiles.

“Triple dessert.”

“Quadruple dessert.”

“Now, that’s what I’m talking about!”

AJ looks between the two of them, clearly confused. “I don’t get it.”

Louis goes to explain, but something small falls from the wallet with a soft thump. A plastic casing preserves a photo with handwriting on the back and a bent corner.

“Oh.”

“What is it?” AJ asks.

Louis holds up the picture, motioning to the couple. “It’s, uhm... their wedding photo.”

“Wedding photo?” AJ studies the picture. Clementine moves around them to look as well.

It’s jarring, the idea that the young couple are the same people as the decaying bodies in the chairs before them. They’re both so clean and happy with wide smiles and life in their bright eyes.

The woman’s beautiful, Clementine thinks, with her hair braided back into a bun of curls and her cheeks a pretty pink. Her dress glows white with glittering details, and the diamond ring is visible on her hand resting against her husband's chest.

“They look...” AJ’s mouth twists as he searches for the right words.

“Happy?” Louis offers.

“Well, yeah, they’re smiling, but...” AJ looks at the dead bodies. “I don’t know. It’s weird. Why’re they dressed like that?”

Louis laughs, “Well, little dude, back before the walkers came, people used to get married. It was a pretty big deal, and when they did, they’d have a wedding. Think of it like a huge party with lots and lots of people to celebrate the couple’s marriage.”

“Okay,” AJ says. He takes the photo and studies it. “What does that mean? To be married?”

“Uh, well,” Louis scratches his neck, “it’s what people used to do to prove they really loved each other, I guess. It was, like, this big step to take to marry someone and call them your wife, or your husband.”

“Everyone did it?”

“No, not everyone.”

“How come?”

“Uh, well,” Louis says, “it wasn’t for everyone, I guess.”

“But anyone could do it?”

“I think so.”

“Even me?” asks AJ. “I can get married?”

Clementine smiles. “You’re a little young for that right now.”

AJ frowns and crosses his arms. “How old do I gotta be?”

“Well, there isn’t really a set age-”

“And I can marry who I want?”

“Yes, but,” Clementine shoots Louis a glance, looking for help with an explanation. He shrugs a shoulder in response, clearly amused. “It’s not something people do anymore.”

“Why not? I mean, you just throw a party. We’ve done that before. And I can marry whoever I love? Like you, right?”

At that, Louis laughs. Clementine sighs. “Uh...”

“Marriage wasn’t for that kind of love, buddy,” Louis says, “it’s a bit more complicated than that.” He puts the picture back into the wallet and tucks it into the dead man’s pocket. “These two didn’t love each other like you and Clem do. They got married because...” Louis’ smile almost turns sad, “they were in love, as a couple.”

“Oh...” AJ thinks, “oh, like a kissing love.”

“A kissing love,” Louis agrees. “Exactly.”

He winks at Clementine, making her roll her eyes and suppress a smile.

“Like you and Clem?”

Warmth rushes to Clementine’s cheeks as a loud, nervous laugh escapes Louis.

Before AJ can ask his next question, there’s a soft bang against the door. The conversation’s forgotten as they glance among themselves, silently telling each other to stay on their guard, get low and carefully maneuver to the door.

AJ peeks out the window, confirming their suspicions.

“Monster.”

Clementine nods. “Just one?”

“Looks like it.”

They all stand, relaxing a little. The door’s closed, so one walker isn’t a threat.

Louis hauls a hefty bag over his shoulder. “Well, I think we’ve gotten all we can get,” he says. “We should head back.”

“Right.”

Louis hesitates, glancing back at the walker couple. It’s quick, but she catches it. The look in his eyes is like whenever someone mentions Marlon or Brody or other fallen classmates, or whenever he brings up his parents in passing. Almost a sad nostalgia, with maybe some pity and longing. She hasn’t quite deciphered that one yet.

Regardless, it’s gone when he turns back to AJ, Chairles in hand, saying, “Think we can take that deadhead?”

Clementine remains behind as they go, the crack and squelsh of the walker skull being struck echoing from outside as she approaches the couple, glancing down at the man’s rotten hand entwined with his wife’s.

He still has his ring on.

“Clem?”

“...Coming.”

---

It stuck with her for the rest of the day.

From when they entered the gates of the school again, continued with their daily chores, all throughout dinner, to now sitting on the couch with Louis in front of the burning firepit. His arm rests comfortably behind her as he chats with Omar, allowing her to lean back into his shoulder and chest.

From what she could tell, he wasn't thinking about it, and neither was AJ.

He let the conversation of marriage go after Louis moved onto another topic. She knew he was trying to avoid the obvious question on AJ’s mind to spare everyone the awkwardness.

“Like you and Clem?”

Like Louis and her...

Marriage isn’t something she thinks about. Not truly, anyway.

Sure, there had been that dumb “marry, ‘flip’, kill” question that seemed to come up during their card games, and sure, from all the groups she’d been in, some had married couples.

Like Kenny and Katjaa.

Christa and Omid.

David and Kate.

Rebecca and Alvin.

And before the walkers, her parents had been married. Happily married with little to no problems.

She doesn’t remember a lot about them, but some things stood out in her brain when she concentrated hard enough.

Like how her father would always kiss her mother’s cheek before going to work and after coming home. It didn’t matter if she was cooking, or still in bed, or working on a project, or on the phone, he always kissed her. It was like some unspoken rule.

And how they laughed together. Her father had this deep, rumbling voice that practically shook the house when he laughed, and his laugh only made her mother laugh harder.

And the cute names they called each other.

Sweetheart. That’s what her father called her mother.

Sweetheart.

But, marriage isn’t something that stuck in her brain, not something she actively thinks about.

Seeing that wedding photo, the couple who chose to die together tied to those chairs, and actually talking about it, hearing Louis talk about it, seeing him look back at them the way he did... it stuck with her.

And-

Something lightly tugs as her hair, breaking her thoughts. She cranks her neck to look up at Louis as he pulls something from the messy ponytail of her hair.

“Sorry, you had some grass there,” he grins, holding up a green stem before flicking it away. “Figured you wouldn’t notice with how zoned out you were. Where’d you go?”

“Nowhere.”

“You went somewhere.”

“I was just enjoying the fire.”

“Hm,” Louis nods before reaching up to tip the hat off her head. “Here, turn around.”

She shifts around with her back to him and hat in hand as Louis, as gently as possible, frees the purple band from her hair. His long fingers attempt to comb through the absolute mess of curls, and if she weren’t so used to him doing this by now, she’d be embarrassed by the disaster placed upon her head.

“Haven’t heard from James in a while,” Louis mentions. “Didn’t see him out there, either.”

“There were barely any walkers today, so he’s out there somewhere. Probably in his camp.”

“He does know that he as a bed here, right?” Louis begins braiding her thick locks, weaving chucks of curls the best he can, “I mean, it’s nothing fancy, but it has to be better than sleeping on the ground. Or in a tree.”

“Maybe you should tell him that,” she suggests with the hint of a grin, glancing back at him with a perked brow.

Louis chuckles. “Yeah, because I’m gonna get through to him.” He jerks his chin over to the tables where Mitch and Willy sit together with Ruby and Aasim. “If you and Mitch can’t convince him to stay permanently, then I’m afraid no one ever will.”

Louis ties off the braid, placing it over her shoulder to look at.

He’s gotten better at this. The first time he ever braided her hair, it was, for lack of a better term, very ugly.

Aasim was appalled upon seeing it, insisting he shows Louis how it’s done. Which was a bizarre thing to learn about him- Aasim could braid hair quickly and beautifully.

Since then, Louis’ skills have improved immensely.

Facing him again, she smiles, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you.”

He goes to speak, but Ruby’s approaching figure catches their attention.

“Ya got watch, Lou,” she jerks her thumb back at the post. “You and Aasim.”

“Aw, seriously?” Louis pouts, which quickly turns into a smirk. “Hey, wanna switch? I can take your morning shift and you can go with Aasim tonight?”

“Nope,” Ruby shakes her head, pointing back at the tower. “Get goin.’“

Louis slouches, mumbling quietly, “I tried, my dude...”

“Don’t keep ‘im waitin’.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis stands, reaching his arms high over his head to stretch out his body. He lets out a satisfied groan as they fall back to his sides. “I’ll be there in a second.”

Ruby nods before walking off.

His foot taps hers. “Guess I’ll see you tonight,” he says, leaning forward. His fingers caress her jawline as he lightly pulls her towards him and places a quick, soft kiss on her lips. “I’ll try not to wake you.”

“Goodnight,” is all Clementine can muster up to say.

“Goodnight.”

He leaves her with a smile.

And as she watches him walk away, twirling the end of the braid around her finger, it occurs to her with a single, strange thought.

I want to marry that boy.

---

Clementine tries to fall asleep, but she’s restless. She doesn’t know how long she’s laid there, but no position, no angle allows sleep to take her.

AJ snores quietly in his bed on the other side of the room, and Louis still won’t be back for a few hours, leaving her with nothing but a near-silent room and noisy thoughts.

It’s maddening.

Not bothering to gather her boots or grab her hat, she tiptoes out of bed and slips out, quietly closing the door behind her to not disturb AJ.

Footsteps thump against the wooden floors causing her to turn, alert and listening.

Violet keeps her eyes forward as she walks down the hall, not giving Clementine any acknowledgment as if she were nothing but the door itself.

Clementine watches her, a greeting caught in her throat that she pushes down.

By now, she knows better.

To say it’d been awful between the two of them ever since the delta fight two years ago would be an understatement. She still can’t even breathe in Violet’s direction without getting ‘fuck you’ eyes, and talking was completely out of question. Not that Clementine didn’t still try, but it seems that Violet’s determined to keep herself in the shadows of the school.

She’s gotten a little better, though. Two years ago, she’d only talk to Tenn and Louis. As time went on, she expanded her daily communications to Ruby, Omar, and Aasim.

Not her, though.

Louis once tried to help them patch things up.

It didn’t go over well.

Clementine tries to put it out of her mind as she moves down the opposite direction. Down by the entrance doors, grumbles echo through the quiet air where she finds Ruby grimacing at something in her hands.

“Hey,” she greets.

“Oh, Clem,” Ruby smiles. “Thought you went off ta bed?”

“Can’t sleep.”

Ruby expression softens. “Bad dreams?”

“No.”

“AJ snorin’ too loud?”

Clementine chuckles. “No, I’m just not tired, I guess.”

“Ah, well, ya wanna help me fix Willy’s shirt?” she holds up a dirty blue shirt with a tear along the side. “Got it caught again and didn’t bother stopin’ to untangle himself.”

“Sure.”

Clementine kept the shirt still and flattened against the table while Ruby goes to work.

“Wish that runt would be more careful,” she murmurs, “always tearing his clothes up. What’ll happen if he ruins all of ‘em? That boy’ll be in nothin’ but rags here pretty quick.”

“You could have him sew his own stuff.”

Ruby scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

Clementine watches her steady hand as she sews in comfortable silence. Being around Ruby like this is peaceful. The two had gotten close over the years, and for that, she’s grateful. She adores Ruby.

“So, somethin’s got you wanderin’ around this late. What’s on yer mind?”

Clementine hesitates, thoughts going back to earlier at the train station, as well as racking her brain for any time she’s ever talked “romance” with the girl before her. Aside from a few comments about her and Louis, nothing sticks out.

”Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Sure, hon.”

“Have you ever liked someone? Like, had a crush?”

The redness on her cheeks brightens as Ruby blinks down at her needlework, processing just what the question entails. “I-uh- what in the world are ya askin’ me that for?”

“Just curious if anyone ever caught your fancy,” Clementine replies. She didn’t think the question would actually make her flustered.

Ruby pokes herself with the needle, hissing a cuss.

“Well,” she says, “hate ta disappoint you, but no.”

“Never?”

Ruby shakes her head. “Nu-uh.”

Clementine thinks back to Aasim and Louis’ constant teasing of the poor boy.

“You don’t like anyone here like that? Not even a little?”

Ruby hesitates.

“No.”

She finishes sewing up the shirt and holds it up in front of her.

“Why the sudden question?” she asks.

“I don’t know,” Clementine answers honestly. “Just was curious, I guess.”

Ruby shifts her weight onto one foot and scratches at her arm. After an awkward silence, she sighs.

“Well... alright, can ya keep a secret?”

Clementine perks up, nodding, “Yeah, of course.”

“Don’t get excited. He, uh... he’s not real.”

“What?”

Ruby’s blush deepens. “Sometime after all the adults left, I had a hard time sleepin’ at night. Ms. Martin was startin’ ta worry ‘bout me. She told me I should try readin’, it’ll take my mind offa everything, and I remember tellin’ her how stupid that was. But...” Ruby sighs, “I still let her read ta me before bed one night. A love story called ‘The Woodsman.’ Well, kinda a love story. She read it so well and,” she grins sheepishly, “I guess I kinda fell in love with Milo.”

Clementine smiles back. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Milo’s this handsome woodsman doin’ everythin’ he can to help support him and his family, right. He’s kind, like, genuinely kind. And the way he describes and talks about Abigail just is enough ta melt your heart. Or make ya cry, mostly both.”

“Do they end up together?”

“No- Well, sorta? Ya see, Abigail’s taken and forced ta live on top this big ‘ol mountain by this old, ugly witch as punishment fer Milo killin’ one of her wolves- uh, it makes more sense when ya read it,” she explains, running her fingers over the fresh stitching in Willy’s shirt, her mouth twisting. “Milo tries and tries again ta climb the mountain and save her, but every time he gets a little bit closer, he slips and tumbles down.”

“Shit.”

“Everything he does, he does it fer her. To free her of that witch’s cruelty. And the crazy part’s that he doesn’t even know if she loves him back. He don’t care if she does or not, he keeps climbin’ anyway and it eventually kills him,” Ruby shakes her head. “Never makes it back to Abigail.”

“That’s... awful.”

“Can’t tell ya how many times that part’s made me cry,” Ruby laughs dryly, “and it’s even worse ‘cause as he’s laying at the bottom dyin’, he’s still thinkin’ ‘bout how only he knows she’s up there and only he can save her and... he dies. He dies and becomes a star.”

“A star?”

“In the sky. High up there and he watches and protects her from the witch until eventually, Abigail dies, too.”

“And becomes a star, right?”

Ruby nods. “Right.”

She folds up Willy’s shirt neatly, draping it over her arm.

“After we lost Ms. Martin, I went through some of her things and found the book. Can’t tell ya how many times I’ve read it. Guess I always liked the idea of someone lovin’ me that much, enough ta fall down a mountain over and over again just ta save me. It’s justa silly fairytale, ‘cause I know someone like that doesn’t exist, but… thinkin’ they do still helps me sleep at night.”

“That’s not silly,” Clementine grins. “I think it’s really sweet.”

“Don’t tell anyone,” Ruby smirks. “Don’t want ‘em ta think I’m too soft.”

Clementine laughs. “I won’t.”

Ruby’s gaze falls as she mulls over something, something sorrowful passing over her brow. Clementine nudges her.

“Hey, you’ll find your Milo someday.”

“...Ya think so?”

“I do.”

With a sincere, thankful grin, she says, “Well, sorry I blabbered so much. Think it’s time I hit the hay. Thanks fer helpin’ me and... fer listenin.’”

“Thanks for sharing that with me. It sounds like a good read.”

“I’d let you borrow it if ya want.”

“I think I’d like that.”

Ruby beams at her, smile wide across her face. She gathers all her things and is just about to walk back to her room when Clementine stops her.

“Ruby?”

“Hm?”

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Don’t hafta,” Ruby says. “Just ‘cause I shared, I mean.”

“I know.”

“Well, alright, then.”

Clementine hesitates, and in a whisper, she says, “I think I’m in love with Louis.”

Ruby laughs. “Oh, hon, that ain’t no secret,” she grins, “it’s all over yer face when yer together. His, too.”

“No, I mean...I really love him.” Clementine laughs again, this time feeling silly herself. “Y’know, if Louis were cursed by some witch and put on top of a mountain, I’d never stop climbing to get him back. Is that crazy?”

“No,” Ruby walks toward her, reaching down to grab her hands. “Not at all.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Ruby says firmly. “In fact, you should tell him that.”

“Yeah?” Clementine smirks. “’Hey, Louis, by the way, if you ever happen to get cursed and kidnapped by a witch, I promise to save you.’”

That makes Ruby giggle. “Well, if any one of us were ta get cursed, it’d probably be him.”

They laugh together now.

“Does he already know? You ever tell him how much you love ‘im?”

“I have,” Clementine says. “Lots.”

“Good. Ya never know in this world... don’t want any more regrets than we already got.”

“I know. Believe me, I know.”

---

He shouldn’t still be thinking about it, but he is.

Even now, up on the watchtower looking over the silent forest, Louis thinks about all the times he, Clementine, and AJ have gone back to the train station, trying to remember if he ever stopped to actually look at the walker couple hunched over in their chairs together.

No, he barely paid them a glance once he knew they were taken care of.

Now, they’re all he can think about.

“You’re quiet,” Aasim mentions, lowering his binoculars and paying him a side glance.

“And you’re observant,” he retorts without missing a beat.

Aasim’s gaze falls down to the deck of cards in Louis’ hands as he absently shuffles them, but says nothing more, rolling his eyes and turning back to peer through binoculars.

Watch is uneventful as always.

Not that he’s complaining- it’s what Louis prefers.

A calm, quiet night of watch is better than a night of being constantly on edge, panicking at an extreme increase of incoming walkers, or catching assholes trying to sneak in.

No, he appreciates the silence outside the walls.

It gives him time to think about things.

Back home- well, back in the old house he lived in before being sent away to Ericson, they had an incredible dining room on the first floor. Monochromatic, with dark hardwood floors and a glass chandelier above the dining table.

There was a fireplace, too. They only used it during the winter, but above the mantle hung a beautifully framed photo of his parents on their wedding day. Around the holidays, when the fire was ablaze and his jam-packed stocking hung from the mantle, his mom would string lights around the frame, the same lights trimming the rest of the room.

And for the life of him, Louis can’t actually remember what the photo itself looked like, what his mother’s wedding dress looked like or if his father had his beard or not. He can’t even remember what color the background was.

The only thing he remembers about it is seeing it poke out of a cardboard box the morning he was being brought to Ericson, surrounded by several belongings packed away, ready for a move away from the freshly bare walls and empty fireplace.

Of course, all three of them were going in different directions.

He hasn’t thought about that for a long time, but thumbing through the walker’s wallet and seeing their wedding photo struck something.

His parents were happily married at one time, just like the walker couple. They fell in love, had a wedding, had him, and then everything went downhill from there, didn’t it?

“Tomorrow, we should work on expanding the kennel for the rabbits,” Aasim mentions. “We’ve got two who could have babies any day now.”

“Lucy one of ‘em?”

Aasim frowns. “Dude, I told you not to name them.”

“I didn’t. Willy did.”

“...Wait, seriously?” Aasim sighs, rubbing at his brow. “I told Mitch to keep him away from them. They’re not pets, they’re food.”

Leaning forward with his elbows against the wooden edge, Louis rubs his eyes and sighs.

He needs to stop thinking about this shit- his parents, marriage- it’s all in the past and nothing will come out of letting it weigh on his mind.

He forces himself to think about how at the end of his shift, he gets to go back inside and up to his dorm where Clementine’s waiting for him, then he’ll get to climb in their warm bed and finally get some sleep.

Hopefully.

Shit, he needs a distraction.

“You even see anything out there?” he asks.

“No, everything’s quiet.”

“Good.”

Moving closer to Aasim, Louis shuffles his deck of cards one last time before dealing out seven to Aasim and himself, setting the rest between them. Picking up his cards, he moves his fours all together and waits for Aasim to get the idea.

With a sigh, Aasim follows suit.

“Usual rules?”

“With a twist.”

“Of course.”

“Winner gets to ask the loser a question.”

“Fine.”

“Alright... got any fours?” Louis asks.

“Go fish.”

“Damn.”

He draws a card.

Aasim rearranges his cards, asking, “Got any sevens?”

"Double damn.”

Louis hands him his seven.

“Nines?” Aasim asks.

“Go fish.”

---

The night sky is a comfort compared to inside, the cool air offering more solace than her own bed.

Rubble crunches and kicks beneath as Violet drags her feet, her focus stuck on the cracked cement, fallen bricks, and the upcoming bell laying motionless on the side. It’s rusted over from years of being left in the rain, a sickening metallic smell emanating off of it.

She comes to a stop, her gaze stuck without really looking at it, as if her thoughts have smeared her visual focus. Thinking back on it, there isn’t a time where she remembers the bell actually being attached where it was meant to be. Not that it really matters. She’s not here to admire the fallen bell and it’s greater purpose, nor to mourn its untimely fall.

“Vi?”

She nearly jumps, whirling around to find Tenn watching her, his fingers twisting nervously and concern furrowing his brow.

“Shit, Tenn,” she curses, fully facing him while crossing her arms over her chest. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I’m on patrol,” he says, reaching into his pocket to proudly pull out his patrolling knife, the same one AJ uses when he walks around at night. “I saw you come out here and you looked mad.”

“So you followed me without saying anything?”

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he offers a soft grin. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” she lies, rolling her eyes. “I’m fine.”

He nods slowly but doesn’t turn to leave, instead eying her over-sized coat and the bell she stands beside.

"It’s a little cold out here. Why don’t you come inside? It’s late.”

“I said I’m fine, Tenn. I’m just getting some fresh air.”

“Then, do you want some company? I can take a break from patrol and go up there with you.”

She knows he’s trying. He’s always trying with her, trying to get her to talk to him the way she used to or smile or… something.

Sometimes he as bad as Louis in that regard.

“No.”

“Oh.”

She hates to think it or feel it or whatever, but right now she can’t deal with him. She can’t deal with anybody. She can barely stand to look him in the eye and his voice gnaws at her eardrums, too loud and too damn concerned.

She just... really needs some quiet.

When he doesn’t move or say anything else, Violet turns on her heels and approaches the stairs, only for him to call after her.

“Are you sure? I can climb up with you-”

“I said I’m fine, Tennessee,” she snaps much harsher than intended. “Go back on patrol.”

The effect of her words is instant in his soft, slightly hurt expression.

Fuck.

“Oh-okay,” he stutters out, nodding. “Just- just be careful not to slip, and if you need anything...” he trails off, waiting for any type of response. When he doesn’t get any, he turns and walks back the way he came, adding, “Goodnight, Vi.”

She watches him go, wanting nothing more than to bang her head against the bell until it rings.

Why the hell did she have to do that? Why couldn’t she just say, “Thank you, Tenn, I would love the company” or “Thank you, Tenn, but I want to be alone right now” or-

It doesn’t matter now. Tenn’s gone, back on patrol and doing his best to protect them and the school from danger. She’s proud of him for that, though she’s never had the opportunity to tell him that.

No, that’s a complete lie.

She’s had plenty of opportunities. Every time she sees him practicing his bow with Willy or learning defensive strategies from AJ, she could easily walk over there and tell him how good he’s doing.

But she doesn’t, because each and every time those things happen, Clementine’s there with him.

And that just-

Fuck.

A yawn builds up in her throat as she takes the first set of stairs to the wall. She shakes it off, beginning her climb to the top.

Another sleepless night that will undoubtedly lead to a deep sleep in the morning. Seems to be her usual schedule these days; complete daily tasks with as little issue as possible, eat dinner, retire early and pretend to try and fall asleep for the rest of the night until dawn breaks, then actually sleep until breakfast is long over.

It’s not so bad when she has night watch, but tonight’s not the case.

In fact, tonight’s a completely different story.

She managed to fall asleep peacefully with a full belly and a relaxed state of mind, something that’s rare even now. She’d been hopeful curled up in bed with the comforter wrapped around her, and that was stupid.

“Shit,” she hisses when her foot slips, causing a short pang of panic in her gut before she catches her self, holding tight and waiting as Tenn’s words repeat in her mind.

She wonders how long it would take them to find her body -her walker body- if she did fall, as morbid as that may be.

Deeming herself safe, she continues her climb.

It was a good dream.

Of course it was.

The one night she finds some peace and her own brain has to fuck it up with false, happy realities. On top of it all, she crossed paths with Clementine on her way here and that made everything worse.

Now it’s all she can think about.

The mere sight of her pisses Violet off.

Though, at this point in her life, she’s not even sure if she can accurately pinpoint why. They haven’t spoken- really spoken- in nearly two years but the pain is still present in every second she’s near and Violet can’t stand it. She refuses to stand it.

Never again.

The breeze is stronger at the top, sweet against her face and through her hair. It’s one of her favorite feelings to be up here alone beneath the stars, the wind calming and the sight breathtaking.

Planting herself down in her usual spot, Violet takes a few deep breaths and pulls off her jacket, digging around in the pockets for her notebook and an old green glitter pen.

The notebook isn’t traditional in style, but completely handmade with loose leaf paper sewn together and her name decorating the cover. It was a gift she received two years ago from Tenn, Aasim, and Ruby when everything seemed to finally calm down after the delta.

It’s a gift that she’s held onto earnestly, one that she used regularly, one that she needed.

Aasim said it was for her thoughts because “writing’s easier than talking sometimes,” and that’s one hell of an understatement.

She refused to write in it at first, knowing that once she did, everything that happened would become more real and the weight of that would crush her into dust. It wasn’t until that fight with Louis that she began writing in it, listing a number of ways she could possibly apologize to him.

Now, it contained everything; memories, different constellations she found in the night sky, thoughts, observations, mini diary entries…

Sometimes she wrote about her parents, her grandma. Sometimes she wrote about the others, sometimes she wrote about Louis, about Minnie, about Tenn.

Sometimes she wrote about Clementine.

Sometimes… she wrote about the delta, the interrogation room, about the cold water, the walkers, the explosion…

And sometimes, she tore pages out and tried to forget.

Opening up to the next blank page, Violet draws a series of dots representative of stars before connecting them in the shape of two birds. Next to one, she draws a speech bubble and writes, “Fly away with me!”

She sighs.

It was a good dream, far from a nightmare and somehow, that made it worse.

She and Minnie were in the fishing shack, lying on the bed and holding hands, talking in muffled, obscured voices. Everything around them was warped, but they were together without any chaos.

Violet always wanted to do that.

She always wanted to go there with Minnie, carve their initials on the wall together, then cuddle in bed while Minnie sang to her until the sun set. When night fell upon them, the need to be together kept them in that bed, even at the cost of worrying the others.

That never happened.

The closest Violet ever got to the fantasy was waking up early and going there by herself to carve the initials, then leading Minnie back as a surprise.

That was the first time they ever kissed.

But, that was it.

They grabbed their spears and went fishing.

The only thing memorable about the kiss is that it was her first. Quick and a little awkward, but enjoyable, she thinks.

Maybe.

Fuck, it was so long ago.

Violet rubs her face on the sleeve of her shirt, murmuring “stop” several times under her breath.

While being up here is calming and peaceful, now that she’s sitting alone beneath these stars, Violet realizes just how lonely it can be.

Yeah, lonely.

It’s fucked but it’s nights like this that she wishes for the comfort of another beside her to talk to about this stuff, but when someone offers her it to her like Tenn did, she refuses it.

Why?

Because she actually longed for the comfort of a girl who aided in her suffering at the hands of an evil bitch hellbent of kidnapping as many as she could for her army? A girl who had a face she once loved but eyes as hollow as cold space itself and who was a lovely yet sorrowful memory she’s held on to for far too long, but just can’t seem to loosen her grasp of?

That comfort is a falsity, a pipe dream and she knows it.

No, she longed the comfort of friends who desperately want to help her no matter how much she pushes them away. Someone who understood the pain she felt and comforted her with beautiful art and kind words, or someone who saved her life and loved her and never stopped trying.

Someone there in the flesh who offered himself to her every day who she repeatedly turned away from.

Because isn’t that who she is now…?

A person who craves the comfort of interaction but also flees from it the first chance she gets.

One big, stupid, fucking contradiction.

But at least she has the night sky, right?

No matter what, the moon and the stars would never truly leave, they’d come back to her every single night, and that’s more than she could say for most.

---

Clementine’s still awake when Louis sneaks in.

He tries his best to be quiet, stopping at the door to slip off his boots and jacket, tiptoeing around before slowly sliding into bed with her with a huff.

She lifts her head off the pillow, silently watching him rub at his tired eyes.

“Hey,” she whispers.

“Shit,” he curses, startled, but relaxes when she sits up on her elbows. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” she sighs. “Been in and out.”

Louis scoots closer to her so that her chin rests against his shoulder. He entwines their fingers, bringing their hands to rest against his chest.

He’s freezing from being outside, so she yanks the blanket up closer to fully cover them, causing him to let out a content sigh.

“How was watch?” she asks.

“Same ol’, same ol’,” he replies. “Convinced Aasim to play go-fish with a twist ‘til he got mad,” he yawns. “Asked him when he’s finally going to confess his undying love to Ruby and he threatened to throw my deck over the wall.”

Clementine chuckles. “Sounds about right.”

They find a pleasant position with her arm around his waist and her body pressed snug against his back. He kisses the back of her hand as his eyes flutter shut, the day's exhaustion catches up with him.

"Guess we’re going to expand the kennel tomorrow,” he says. “Lucy and another rabbit are going to have babies soon, so that’ll be a lot of fun.”

“Hmm.”

“How was your night?”

“Better now.”

The corner of his mouth twitches into a grin.

Their hands raise and fall with every breath he takes, and soon he’s fast asleep. His heartbeat is soft against her hand, the rhythm a sweet lull. She keeps herself awake a little longer to make sure he remains peaceful.

She runs her thumb over his, thinking back to the couple in the train station, wondering what their last kiss was like, what their final words to each other were. She wonders if there were a lot of things left unspoken, things that wanted to be said, needed to be said.

She squeezes his hand and allows her eyes to rest.

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