The night was dark, with only the moon to shine a silver glow on every inch of the black hearse that stood idle in the driveway of a quaint little house. Inside the car sat Eli Goldsworthy, his hair and clothes almost as dark as the hearse he sat in. His green eyes were fixed on the steering wheel, his hands gripping it so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He was very obviously deep in thought, because the smirk he almost always wore on his face was gone. His eyebrows were pulled together and his lips pursed to form a scowl.
It was the night after Fitz pulled the knife on him in the hallway of Degrassi, and Eli hadn't talked to Clare since they'd left the school the night before. She'd refused to answer his texts, calls, tweets, and instant messages. After pacing around his house for more than an hour, Eli decided to hop into Morty and drive around town. Before he knew it, he was parked in Clare's driveway. He glanced at his watch and heaved a huge sigh. It was just past nine o'clock. If he even wanted to see Clare's face, look into her blue eyes, he'd have to do it soon.
Gnawing on his bottom lip anxiously, Eli turned off the car and pocketed the keys. Putting on the bravest face he could manage, he stepped out of Morty and made his way into the front yard. He knew exactly which window was connected to Clare's room, and he was relieved to see a faint glow coming from behind the cream curtains. His spirits lifting a little, Eli looked to the ground in search for a pebble. He found one quickly and craned his neck to get a good look at his target. Closing one eye, he aimed, said a silent prayer that he wouldn't have to do this more than once, and tossed the pebble into the air, towards the window.
The pebble made an audible crack against the glass, and Eli cringed at the noise. Everything was quiet for at least a minute, until the curtains behind the window quivered and the face Eli had been missing for the past twenty-four hours appeared between the flowing pieces of fabric. Her expression went from curious to sour almost immediately and she whisked away, leaving her curtains to sway slightly. Bringing a hand to his face in frustration, Eli sighed. He should've known this wouldn't be easy.
He didn't want to toss another pebble at the window; the first noise was like a gunshot in the silence of the night. Another one was bound to wake someone. The phone in his pocket tempted him, but he knew Clare wouldn't answer. There was only one option. Mumbling to himself, Eli walked towards the house, clenching and unclenching his hands as he walked. He came to a stop at the brick wall that was Clare's house, and tilted his head back to look up at her window. He'd climbed plenty of walls in his time, but this one was almost scary for him. Maybe it was just the situation.
Breathing deeply through his nose, Eli slipped one foot and one hand into some crevices in the wall. Slowly but surely, he made his way up the wall, his muscles screaming with tension. At one point, he almost lost his footing, but with a quick reaction, he was steady once more.
Finally, he reached Clare's windowsill, sweat beading on his forehead. He gripped the white wood with one hand carefully, and gently knocked on the window with the other. This time Clare waited even longer to come to the window, so long that Eli's hand was beginning to cramp when her face became visible from behind the curtains once again. Eli heard her say his name in surprise behind the glass, and he shot her the most crooked smirk he could. But her expression didn't change, and that fact sent a shock through Eli's limbs.
Clare opened the window angrily, her curls bouncing as she crossed her arms.
"What are you doing here, Eli?" she asked, her voice thick with spite.
"Oh, I just felt like scaling a brick wall this lovely evening," he replied with sarcasm, removing a hand from the sill carefully to motion to the night behind him. Clare's face hardly changed as he spoke. With a sigh, Eli returned his hand and erased the smirk from his lips. "I came to see you, what else?"
Clare continued to glare at him, her blue eyes shooting daggers into his heart. He tried to look past the hate in her gaze and maybe find some tenderness, the kind she'd always had with him, but there was none; only depths of cold anger.
"If you're gonna look at me like that, Blue Eyes, can you at least let me in?" Eli warily glanced over his shoulder to the ground below. "Unless you want me to fall to my death in your front yard."
Clare opened her mouth to retort, but she seemed to decide against it at the last moment. Narrowing her eyes, she moved aside to let Eli into the safety of her room. He hopped gracefully through the window and stood up straight, cracking a few joints.
"I haven't climbed a wall in a while," he attempted, giving Clare a playful glance, "I'm gonna be sore later."
Clare barely acknowledged his comment, slamming the window shut and turning to face him.
"If you have some business here, Eli, get it over with so I can go to bed." Her voice was even more painful than her eyes, and Eli tried to brush off her aggressiveness. Of course he'd be getting it over with.
"I just came to, uhm, you know." He swept his gaze over Clare's face, wishing that she'd get rid of that scowl and be the Clare he knew and loved. "Apologize. If almost getting stabbed wasn't enough." Right when the last part of that sentence escaped his lips, Eli regretted it. Clare was suddenly right in front of him and her hand was coming fast towards his face. He heard the impact of her hand against his cheek before he felt the rippling of pain.
Eli groaned as Clare let her hand fall back to her side, shaking his head a bit to rid himself of dizziness. "I guess I deserved that," he muttered, flexing his jaw. Blinking a few times, he looked back to Clare to see her big blue eyes filling up with tears. The corners of her mouth were still turned down in a frown, but her eyes said what her lips couldn't.
"Clare, don't," he pleaded, stepping forward. "This is exactly what I didn't want to happen! I just came to say sorry, I—" He was interrupted by her finger placing itself gently on his lips.
"I know you're sorry," she told him quietly, her voice shaking. She looked as if she had more to say, but she was using all of her energy to bite back the tears Eli knew were coming.
"Clare—" he began, but she interrupted him again.
"I was so scared, Eli!" she half-shouted, half-sobbed. The sound cracked Eli's heart in two and he willed her to shut her mouth and stay quiet. "You could've been killed!" She was pacing now, throwing her hands into the air angrily. "I thought you were going to die, Eli. I thought that that would be the last time I'd ever see you!" She stopped pacing suddenly and turned to look at him. Tears were streaming from her eyes almost endlessly, and her hands were shaking at her sides. Eli was unsure if he should move forward to comfort her or stand his ground to avoid being hit again. His common sense told him the latter, but his heart convinced him of the first.
He had barely taken a few steps forward before Clare slammed into him, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face to his chest. A sob racked her body, one of anger, sadness, or relief, he didn't know. All he knew was that this was her sign of forgiveness, her way of telling him that his apology was, indeed, accepted.
Eli was unsure of how long the two of them stood there, Eli pressing his lips into Clare's soft red curls, Clare crying quietly into Eli's shirt. At last, Clare pulled herself away from him, wiping tears off of her cheeks. Her eyes were bloodshot and puffy now, still wet with tears. She looked up at him almost cautiously, and flashed him a surprising, watery smile.
"God, I'm a baby," she whispered, so quietly that Eli almost didn't catch it. He chuckled and locked his gaze with hers.
"I'm glad you forgive me, Clare," he told her. He could hear his own heart beating loudly against his ribcage. "I don't know what I'd do with myself if you didn't." The smile on her face turned into a full grin as he spoke.
"Someone's in a romantic mood," she teased, gnawing on her lip a little. Eli cocked an eyebrow and slowly closed the space between them again.
"I'm just a romantic guy."
Their faces were all of a sudden centimeters apart, so close that Eli could taste Clare's breath on his tongue. He was torn in two again, one part of him saying to crash his lips into hers right then and there, the other aware of the damage her hands could do. He went with the sensible part of his mind this time, merely staring into the blue depths of Clare's eyes quietly. She stared right back at him, her expression one of anticipation and anxiety. This tickled him a bit; Saint Clare, always so cautious…
"Damn it, Eli," she said suddenly, furrowing her eyebrows. "Kiss me."
Eli smirked and moved so that his lips were barely a millimeter away from hers.
"Make me."
With that, Clare pressed her mouth against his, so fervently that it almost surprised him. He didn't even have to convince her to part her lips because she did so herself, catching his top lip between hers. The feeling sent a shock of pleasure down to Eli's feet, remaining there for a moment, then made its way back to his face. He pushed harder into her lips in response, bringing his hands to her waist, moving them to linger on the small of her back before reaching up to grab her face. She shivered as his fingers ran through her hair and down her neck, tracing circles on her collarbone. He felt Clare bringing a hand up behind his neck, bringing him even closer to her that he already was. Eli pulled away every-so-slightly, teasing her. She knew this and simply stared back at him through slitted eyes.
"Eli Goldsworthy, you dog."
Please excuse the awkward change of moods; I was trying to keep them in character as much as possible, but I'm just no good at it. ^_^ I think this is one of the longest I've ever written: 1,819 words! Almost three pages on Word. YESSSSSS AH.
*Aradiea, can you find a reference? ;) It's very small…*