A/N: For those who have an issue with the shipping between Luke and Clementine: When I first got into the fandom and learned of the ship I was freaked out by it too, so trust me when I say that I understand why this may make you uncomfortable. It took me a really long time for me to even tolerate the ship, let alone have it be one of my OTPs and want to write for it like I am now. Truth be told it grew on me, but only in the case that CLEMENTINE IS AN ADULT, I don't ship 11-year-old Clementine with 26-year-old Luke, EVER, that would be absolutely disgusting. Even though Clementine starts off young in this fanfiction, nothing purposefully romantic happens between them until she is over 18 years old, but in these early chapters before that, they do meet and become good friends. Nothing more.

Yes, that is Clementine in the bed in the opening scene, and yes she is over 18 in the opening scene. My parents have a 17 year age gap and they have known each other since my mom was nine, they didn't get together until my mom was in her twenties. So I personally would be able to understand and accept a romance between two people who may have known each other when one of them was a younger age and started a relationship much later in life, when that person is a proper age.

If it offends or disgusts you then that's fine, I won't try to convince you otherwise, I just request that you turn back if you think this could offend you. You don't have to read this, I'm not forcing you to read this. Any rude reviews will be either ignored or deleted. Nevertheless, thank you for clicking on this story, I plan on putting a lot of effort into it and I hope you enjoy it!


Trigger Warnings: Alcoholism


Note: It's late as I'm publishing this and I'm too tired to properly proofread it, so I apologize for any errors, I plan to properly check it over tomorrow!

If you're like me and like having songs to listen to well you read fanfiction, or just don't mind some song recommendations, I've decided to sort a few songs for each chapter into my own little playlist.

1. Closer by nuages

2. Nothing Lasts by Bedroom

3. Clementine by Sarah Jaffe ((hah get it!? Cause clementine!? Ok i'll stop.))

4. Next To You by Alicks.

5. Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol


Icicles:

Chapter 1

x

roseabellaaa


He can't sleep.

Luke's almond eyes flutter open and slowly begin to adjust to the dimly lit space around him, a small flickering lamp sits on the dresser across from him, and he feels the body beside him begin to stir as he leans forward. After probably a half an hour or so of laying in his bed, squeezing his eyes shut and making a poor attempt at trying to fall asleep, he finally decides that his efforts are futile.

Meanwhile, the young woman whose arms are snugly around his torso sleeps like a rock on his beaten up mattress, she barely responds to his movements other than a few quiet mumbles and soft shifting against him. She exhales hot breaths onto his chest with the rise and fall of the blankets that cover her naked body. A sub conscious smile is tugging on her heart shaped lips and he can't help but smile brightly back at it.

There's a flame that burns deep in his chest that he just can't get over, it makes him giddy and restless, it's an excitement he hasn't felt in years. He has the urge to open the window and holler till his voice reaches across this whole damn city about just how happy he is at this very moment.

He holds back on that daydream and gently withdraws the arm that is wrapped lovingly around the woman, trying with every ounce of effort he has to not disturb her peaceful rest. He releases himself from her hold and immediately misses her warmth when the cold air hits him. He can't help but take the chance to run his fingers through the messy curls of her hair, he twirls his fingers around the loose dark strands and can catch the lingering scent of lavender shampoo before he finally pulls away.

He searches for his loose articles of clothing that had been thrown around the room during the heated exchange from barely an hour before, but the mess that his room already is makes the task harder than it should be. His eyes catch her wine red sweater first, it sticks out amongst the dull tones of the rest of his room, near it is her black skinny jeans, along with her bra and underwear, all of which he picks up and folds on the nightstand by her side. After some digging, he finally comes across his own clothing, a navy blue sweatshirt, faded blue jeans and boxers, he puts them all on for the second time that day.

He faces the window and stretches his muscles, the sun is barely peeking over the horizon, most of the light that exposes the road beyond is from the streetlights rather than the natural glow of the sun. He paces the small room after that, his sights switching from the female laying on his bed and the darkening scenery outside his window, overwhelmed by his own thoughts of nostalgia. He doesn't know how to release this energy.

After a couple minutes, he sits at the wooden desk on the other side of the room, opens the top of the laptop and waits for it to load up. When it does, he does the only thing he can think of, he writes. His fingers are rabidly typing on the keys, only stopping whenever his mind goes blank.

The memory of her high-pitched voice echoes in his mind, words from seven years before, the eleven-year-old stands above him and exclaims confidently. "Remember my name, because soon I'll be on your television with an Olympic gold medal around my neck."

He types into his computer impulsively.

Her name was Clementine.


The first thing Luke notices about Athens is the people. The place is well populated and it shows when he observes all the residents that fill the streets. Among the faces is a large group of friends, carefree as they laugh and joke with one another and cheerful street performers playing all kinds of instruments. A man in a business suit rushes through the crowd, talking through the phone in his hand. His gritted teeth and furrowed brows show a rage that Luke recognizes from his youth. Even so, the multiple people Pete's truck passes is refreshing to him.

They come to another red light, and the car comes to a slow halt. He hears a stifled groan from his friend, likely frustrated by the extended length of their ride due to traffic, which earns him a glare from his uncle but other than that, nothing is said as the car lapses back to its comfortable silence.

He can see the clear agitation in his Nick's body language and can only imagine what a task it is to hold in his anger. Even Luke, the more tolerant of the duo, can feel his patience draining as cars overload the downtown roads and make more traffic. They should've known choosing Sunday to be their moving day would be a mistake.

Before Nick could finally snap, they enter the cul-de-sac where their house is located, compared to the downtown area it's strikingly calm, without the few people he notices sitting on their porches and the children playing ball hockey in the street, it would be barren. It's peaceful but welcoming, it's an improvement to him.

Their new house, small, quaint and inexpensive, sits atop elevated terrain, the grass is greener than ever and a dying flower garden surrounds the walls. He assumes the previous owners must have had quite the green thumb.

Pete parks in the driveway of the home and Nick gets out hastily, the ebony hair that peeks out of his hat blows in the wind as he mumbles to himself. "Finally…"

Even if he won't see it, Luke nods in agreement as he exits the car in a more placid manner, shutting the car door softly. "Thanks for helpin' us out, Pete." He says with his casual southern drawl.

Pete gives him his typical smile. "Not a problem, I knew I'd have to be here to see you two boys out."

With that Pete goes around to open the back of the truck, filled with furniture and decor lent to them by different members of Nick's family. Although most of it is old fashioned and probably out of style as interior design goes, it cut the costs of moving for the two men considerably.

The older man turns to them. "It's gonna be a long day, hope you two are ready for some heavy lifting."

He flexes playfully. "Never been more ready in my life."

It's when he and Nick are carrying a beige stained couch into the house that he realizes just how big of a lie that was.

They work until the clouds are tinted orange by the setting sun. After two or three hours of bringing the bulk of the furniture in and arranging it around the house, Pete leaves after giving the two young men an unusually heartfelt goodbye. After the couple of years he has spent living with Nick and his family, he knows that the uncle is a reserved, and even at times, strict man, so the vulnerability he shows as he hugs the two men warmly, tears forming in the corner of his eyes, comes completely out of nowhere for them.

He can see the way Nick's demeanor changes, the irritation that had grown previously from the stress of their 8-hour moving day vanishes and becomes despondent. Pete and Nick argued often, Luke has been in the room through most of their verbal clashes, but there was no doubt in anyone's mind that the two cared for one another deeply.

From their porch, they stand and wave as his truck backs out of the driveway and drives off, it would be the last time they saw that man for a long time. There's a weight on his heart that he can't describe as the truck vanishes from sight, he was going to miss Pete and the rest, they supported him through the majority of his lifetime, showed him what having a true family is like, but he knew his sorrow couldn't compare to Nick. That man is a momma's boy through and through.

Nick yawns. "Let's get inside, I need a drink."

Typical. Luke grins, running his fingers through his chestnut locks. "Me too."

It's comical that of all the things Nick chooses to get for their house, with the little money he has, it's a 12-pack of beer, that will likely be downed within their first week of living there. At least Luke was a little more decent, buying himself a new guitar to fuel his musical hobby, his old guitar, that he had been playing since he was eleven, was a lost cause.

Luke cracks open the can and takes one big gulp. The soft musty liquid that runs down his throat comforts him. If it were anyone else, Luke would make some form of attempt at small talk, but instead, he and Nick sit on their old battered couch and drink their beverages in a pleasant silence.

His most trusted friend, and within Athens, his only friend. He's known him for nearly two decades, met by chance after being assigned cabin mates in their summer camp. Luke was a friendly seven-year-old, to the point it likely verged on annoying, he had done everything he could to strike a conversation with the more introverted boy, asking him dumb questions and saying every knock knock joke he knew. As he's grown older, he has come to appreciate being able to sit wordlessly with someone, without awkwardness or tension, just a serene, quiet atmosphere.

Nick breaks the silence all too soon, his gaze remaining on the old television they have yet to set up. "This is really happening, huh?"

Luke's hold on his beer can tightens and produces an unpleasing metal sound. "It is."

Maybe it was a little cruel, he thinks to himself, when he told Nick that he was making plans to leave Tennessee. He spent the rest of that night being practically interrogated by him, trying to convince him to stay but he just wouldn't budge. Until Nick approached him one day, asking if he could join him.

"You regrettin' it?" Luke asks.

"Possibly. Considering I just spent an entire day hauling a bunch of old ass furniture around."

The two snicker at each other's mutual suffering, he can feel the tightening of his back and the soft aches of muscles building up to soreness, he has no idea how he's going to get out of bed tomorrow.


A week after moving in, Luke is able to nab himself a job at a gardening store, and although he'd like to say his minor in agriculture is serving him well, the truth of the matter is that the place is extremely desperate, but that doesn't mean he isn't gonna pretend whenever Nick questions him about it.

With an eyebrow raised, Nick scoffs. "A gardening store? For like, old ladies?"

"You're just jealous cause my agriculture minor came in handy and no one's called ya back yet."

"Whatever, call me when your art history major finally comes in use."

He's never gonna live that one down, is he?

It certainly isn't what he came to Athens for, however, it's still a paycheck. At the same time, Luke still isn't completely sure what he did come to Georgia for. The first thing he ever told Nick to defend what was, at the time, a hasty decision, was that he wanted to move on to something new, something bigger, give himself a blank canvas. Luke isn't a planner, he takes things as they come, so when the 'plans' for Athens were finally coming to tuition, he thought he'd figure it out once he got there. Now he is there, and he has no idea what the fuck he's going to do.

He shakes away his insecure thoughts, he was going to figure it out, it might take awhile, but it was all going to click into place soon, he knew it. This is a good first step, gotta start somewhere.

He began walking down the driveway, pausing for a moment to glance longing at the empty garage. His first priority, if he got-when he got a job, was to get he and Nick a car. That dream only fueled by his failed google maps searches for their nearest bus station hours earlier.

The melodic chirping of birds added to the peaceful atmosphere of his living area, brown eyes catch the sight of an older plump woman just across from their house. She wears a sun hat over her short, thick blonde hair as she waters the beautiful garden that lines her porch. She seems kind enough, maybe he can get some directions out of her.

He slowly walks across the secluded road, not wanting to scare or possibly threaten the distracted woman, she continues to pay little attention when he makes his way up her driveway, and he's only a few feet away from her when she finally becomes aware of his presence.

She jumps slightly with surprise but quickly greets the younger man with a polite smile. "Oh, hello." She says with a foreign accent he can't pinpoint.

Luke gnawed at his lip, he knows for a fact he isn't looking his best right then, thanks to the early alarm he set for himself, as well as his slight hangover from the night before, dark circles are layered under his eyes, and the barely visible wrinkles of his face were deepening. If the older woman feared him doing something unstable, he wouldn't be shocked.

"I'm real sorry to bother you, my name's Luke, you may have noticed my friend and I movin' into the house across from ya not long ago…"

She nods. "Oh, yes, it was unusual to see two young men coming into our area, we're used to families, most of the younger adults stay downtown." She takes off the soil covered gloves she had been tending to her garden with and holds out her hand. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Katjaa."

"Likewise." He says as he shakes her hand casually, a smile coming naturally to him. "I'm on my way to a job interview, I was wonderin' if you knew where the nearest bus station was?"

"I'm sorry but I have no idea…"

Luke tries to hide his disappointment, fighting against the urge to drop his smile. "Not a problem, thanks anyway."

"Are you looking for a car? My husband has been trying to get rid of our old ford for awhile now, I could put a good word in for you."

The man looks over his shoulder as he leaves. "In a couple months maybe, I'd appreciate that."

Katjaa waves at him with a gentle smile. "I'll let him know, good luck!"

For a second, Luke feels lucky that he decided to wake up as early as he had because he can already tell there was gonna be a long day ahead of him trying to navigate this new city. With a tired sigh, he pulls his cellphone out of his pocket and opens up the google maps app.

The thing about job interviews is that they never stopped being terrifying, Luke feels fairly confident most of the time, but all of that can fade away the second he enters the gardening store five minutes before he's scheduled to be there. Usually, it's all in his head, that's what it all comes down to, but sometimes it wasn't, and those times were the worst. He is able to calm his nerves slightly through the reminder that the place really was desperate for some employees. If that were true, the manager, a balding man a little over forty, certainly doesn't show it, he gives Luke a badly hid (if he was even trying to hide it) disinterested glance before bringing him into the backroom of the store and leaving.

When he returns a little over half an hour later, he inquires the young man about if he has been there before, the stuff he buys there, the things he likes to garden, why he wants to work there. It's ten minutes until the older man visibly cringes and tells him he isn't what they're looking for, and Luke has a feeling that he made his judgment the second he walked through the door.

The wind blows through his hair as he stands on a crosswalk, waiting for his chance to walk, he's in a complete state of shock as to how badly it had went, and wants to punch himself in the face for not preparing more beforehand or visiting the store or buying formal clothes to wear. It had left a fairly large dent in his ego.

As he walks across the street, the young man is already mentally preparing the detailed essay of the events he's going to relay to Nick when he gets home, and the one-star deconstructive review he was going to leave on Yelp.

So maybe, just maybe, it was all a little bit petty, but nothing sucks more than putting a ton of work into something only for it all to be thrown into your face with a 'you're not what we're looking for at the momen-'

"Move, move, move, move!"

Taken out of his thoughts, Luke's head whips around to the voice coming from behind him but doesn't have time to comprehend what he's seeing before the right side of him collides with a smaller body with a deep 'oof!'

He hears the sound of his own shoes scratching at the pavement in his bewilderment, along with the sound of wheels rattling against the ground. He takes a few unbalanced steps backward but ultimately is able to keep himself from falling, he exhales a breath of relief. It's not like he hasn't embarrassed himself enough today.

He turns around and his relief is suddenly replaced by guilt. A young girl, probably in middle school, is sitting sprawled across the sidewalk, highlighter purple skateboard in hand as she tries to see what damage has been done to it. Despite only wearing knee pads and no other protective gear, she recovers pretty well, instead of a helmet, her messy dark brown hair tied in short pigtails is covered by a blue and white baseball cap, a capital 'D' embroidered in the center.

She barely takes notice of his presence or at least doesn't show it, more concerned to figure out the state of her skateboard. Luke shifts awkwardly, unsure how to approach her, after staring at her for a few seconds, he decides to ask the most basic question he can. "Are you okay?"

No answer.

"Uh, kid?"

"I'm fine," she says and points at the item in her hands. "Is 'she' okay is the real question."

He's bewildered and at a loss for words for a few seconds until he realizes that she's referring to her skateboard. He timidly takes a step toward her and draws his attention to the inanimate object, clearing his throat before speaking. "Are you okay, skateboard?"

She looks at him for the first time since they have crossed paths, and he's greeted by large golden irises that squint at him. "What are you doing?"

"Uh-"

"You know skateboards can't talk, right?" She says matter of factly.

"Well, duh!"

"Then why are you trying to talk to it?"

"Well! I mean-You were…!" He tries to formulate some kind of explanation as her amber eyes stare up at him, but when his mind draws a blank, he gives up. "Nevermind."

After just a few more moments of investigating the object, her face relaxes into a satisfied expression, and she finally stands up from her spot on the pavement. "Just a few scratches, other than that she'll be good." He wonders why she would relay that tidbit of information onto him but quickly grasps that she is talking to herself.

Her curly pigtails bounce when her head pops up with realization and began to apologize, going on a tangent mid way through. "I'm sorry! That was probably rude, I destroyed my last board a few weeks ago and Kenny said he wouldn't buy me another one if I ruined this one so…I didn't mean to bump into you, I lost control on the hill a bit back."

He smiles warmly. "It's fine, no hard feelings, kid. I was in a pretty bad mood long before you came through here."

"Really, did something happen?" She asks curiously, digging her hand under her hat to scratch at her head.

He fights back a scowl, his expression twisting a bit. "Eh, I got rejected during my job interview."

"That sucks."

"Yeah…"

There's a pause before the girl places her skateboard back on the ground, putting a single foot on it to keep it from rolling away, her words are short and rushed. "Well, I have to go so, bye."

He doesn't get the chance to respond until the girl is rolling down the hill on her board at top speed as if she had never run into anyone on it in her life. He was glad to bump into her, really, it distracted him from his furious thoughts of his humiliation just an hour or so before.


Just two weeks later, he's leaning against his laminated countertops as he watches the microwaveable popcorn bag that was his dinner for the night, inflate to the tune of popping kernels. He'd like to tell himself that his poor choice of meals the past couple of weeks has to do with him and Nick's dwindling funds, but he knows microwave meals and pizza would still be his diet if he were a millionaire. The alarm of the microwave sounds but Luke puts it in again for twenty more seconds, unpopular opinion but, he likes his popcorn slightly burnt.

Once that's over and done with, the man eagerly opens the popcorn bag, taking a handful and deciding not to go through the trouble of getting a bowl out for it. He walks over and leans it over a corner of the couch well he gets a can of beer. He grasps onto the metal and slams the door of the fridge shut, eyeing the logo that had become a staple for him, so much so he was sure he could describe it perfectly if asked, but like most brands of beer he had adjusted himself to, it had become bland to him.

The first rule of business once he gets a job; (after the car at least) get himself some better liquor, it felt like forever since he'd had a taste of some vodka or tequila, hell even a strong cider for that matter.

Truth be told the last time he had those kinds of alcohol was the day before he and Nick were to officially move, a ragtag celebration put together by some of his old friends, Bonnie, Mike, Tavia, Hank, the whole gang. Though he had kept a hold of himself that night, aware of how terrible the moving day would be with a wicked hangover. He had tried to impart his wisdom onto Nick as well, but his old friend only regarded him with a drunk groan before chugging some whiskey.

He was going to regret saying it soon, but he misses having the 'I can't even get out of bed without choking on my own vomit' hangovers. Even if the last time he'd had the type of hangover was barely a month ago.

Now he sounds like an alcoholic...he wasn't an alcoholic, right?

Luke shakes his head sheepishly at the thought before cracking open the can of bear and plopping himself onto his couch. "Course not."

The can is inches away from his lips when a light but repetitive knocking comes from his front door. His eyes narrow at the interruption, but for the most part, doesn't think much of it. Putting the filled can on the coffee table, he makes his way to the door, when more knocking comes for what he feels is the thousandth time, he finally opens the door.

The older woman from a couple of weeks ago stands before him, her blonde hair tied up in a tight bun, wearing some kind of veterinarian's uniform that he assumes has to do with her job. What was her name again? Something Kat. Katherine? Katrina? Katjaa, right?

"Luke!" She cries, her voice filled with panic. He jumps back a little bit, shocked by the change in attitude, as well as the fact she's apparently remembered his name a lot better than he had hers. "I'm so sorry! Are you busy right now?"

Define 'busy' the sarcasm in him fights to say, but he holds it back, finding it important to leave an impression of maturity on his new neighbor, well he still can that is. "No, I was just eating…" he paused to look over his shoulder at the bag of popcorn on his couch. "-Dinner. What's up?"

"My husband just called to tell me he had crashed into a ditch on the freeway." He wants to give her a polite and sympathetic apology, but she is continuing her explanation before he can. "He's not hurt, but...we have three children in our house at the moment, and I have work in twenty minutes! Can you...watch them for the evening?"

Luke's chocolate eyes glance down at his feet hesitantly. "Well, uh…"

"I'll pay you! One hundred for the night! Just, please, I have no one else to go to."

With the promise of payment, along with the woman's clear distress from the situation, he decides that it won't be too hard to watch over a couple of kiddies for the night, and with Nick out of the house as well, he really had nothing better to do, as sad as that sounded.

"Yeah, sure. No problem."

"Oh, thank you so much! I'll introduce the kids to you before I leave."

The practically run across the road over into their house, which is much larger in comparison to he and Nick's, but still has a comfy feel to it. Their layout practically matches that of their house, except with a second floor where three bedrooms are, and a second washroom. At least that's what she tells him, not caring to tour him around the upstairs area in her hurry.

Katjaa leans over the railing of the stairs as she calls for the children. "Kids! Get down here, please!"

No response.

"Now!" She adds, harsher this time.

Then comes the shuffling of feet and creaking of floorboards above them, signaling that an arrival will be coming shortly. "Coming!" A young boy's voice calls back, who is soon seen rushing down the stairs.

He's a brunette boy with a face of freckles and a buzz cut, he wears clothes that seem to be just a few sizes too big for him, as his shirt hangs off his arms and the ends of his pants go past his ankles and cover his feet. His dark eyes stare at Luke curiously as he walks toward his mother.

Close behind him is a girl, rose-coloured glasses frame her eyes, with thick ebony hair that reaches her shoulders. Her shy personality becomes frankly obvious to him when she seems to stiffen at his presence, but all in all makes her way down the stairs to stand with Duck, avoiding the young man's gaze.

He expects to see another, but that's it, didn't she say there was three?

"Clementine!" His thoughts are interrupted by the older woman's shout.

"Sorry!" Comes a voice, and suddenly the girl's steps are echoing through the house as she bolts down the stairwell.

Luke goes to say something to the stressed mother beside him, but his mind goes blank when he catches the familiar baseball cap and dark pigtails in disarray. Is that…?

Judging by the way her brows jump up when their eyes meet, she must recognize him as well, what a coincidence. This has to be the skateboarding girl from a few weeks ago, the one who had given him a nice purple bruise on his forearm that had yet to fade since. He doesn't know her, at all really, but his amazement is gained more so by the oddity of the situation than anything else.

He wonders if he should greet her, or maybe that's too weird, they only spoke to each other for a few minutes.

Katjaa is speaking before he has the chance to make a decision. "This is my son, Kenny Jr…" She places a hand on his head gingerly, making her son scowl. "We call him Duck though, he's a ball of energy so don't let him have too much sugar, he can get a little...you know."

She gestures to the shy girl beside him. "This is Sarah, we're babysitting her for the next two weeks, her father is a doctor, very busy man. She's a polite girl, nothing to worry about."

Luke's gaze switches over to the last child, Clementine, as she said before. "Finally, this is Clementine, she's pretty reserved, but she likes to go off on her own without asking and horrify us." Katjaa narrows her light eyes at her, as if reminding her of a previous time she had been reprimanded for the act but relaxes her face quickly after. "We've had her around for a year or so..."

The young girl's face twists as Katjaa continues, and it seems Luke isn't the only one who notices because Katjaa cuts herself off after that, and the other two kids give Clementine concerned and bewildered glances.

"Anyway-" She says after a pause. "Children, this is Luke, he's our neighbor and he'll be taking care of the three of you for the evening. Treat him well and stay downstairs with him until bedtime."

The three nod before Katjaa is exchanging numbers with him, rushing out of the house immediately after, saying her goodbyes and giving her son a quick kiss on the cheek that that kid seems to be disgusted by, she thanks Luke a million times over before she shuts the door.

The loud slam echoed through the open living room, and Luke stands there awkwardly, kind of lost on what to do at this point, the three only stare back at him, waiting for his first words to them.

A thought pops into his head suddenly, he'd usually keep it to himself, but he decides that he might as well let it out to fill the silence. "Clementine, huh?" She glances at him."Are your parents named Peach and Cantaloupe?"

Her eyes narrow, but Luke is able to spot the badly concealed smile on her lips.


"Hufflepuff!?" Duck cries in terror, a truly disturbed and shocked look on his face as he stares down at the screen of Luke's laptop.

"I knew it!" Clementine shouts before she bursts into maniacal laughter. "Gryffindor my ass!"

"Language." Luke scolded, but a smirk is tugging hard on his lips.

At the start of their evening, they had lounged on the two large leather couches and tried to find something to watch on the television, a pretty boring event but Luke was truly at a loss on how to entertain them, and Kat had instructed that he not let them out of his sight. Well flipping through a load of channels, Duck shouts at him to stop on a channel that has one of the Harry Potter movies playing on it, and he asks the other two girls if they would be okay with watching it, to which they both nod. As someone who had been an avid reader of the books in his early teenage years, he doesn't try to fight them on their decision.

It's during the sorting hat scene that the three, specifically Clementine and Duck, get into an argument.

"If I were in Hogwarts, I'd be sorted into Gryffindor." Duck says, sitting beside Luke.

"Oh, please, you're a total Hufflepuff!" Clementine retorts.

"Oh, sorry! are you the sorting hat, Clementine? No? Then shush!"

Her curly hair whips around as she turns to Sarah, who is sitting on the same couch as her. "Sarah, back me up here. Duck is not a Gryffindor, right?"

The older girl (surprisingly, Clementine is the youngest of the three) glances at the brunette apologetically. "Sorry, Duck, but I agree with Clementine here, you have a lot of Hufflepuff traits, I've read all of the books so I should know." She proclaims, as if it were the greatest achievement of her life.

"You know what!? What house are you then, Clementine!?"

"Gryffindor." She answers smugly.

"I bet you're the Hufflepuff! You're just accusing me of being a Hufflepuff to hide all your Hufflepuff-ness!"

"Okay! Okay! Hold your horses! This is just a movie!" Luke interjects finally, honestly amused by the bickering of the kids, it fills him with a nostalgic feeling of he and Nick as children.

Duck ignores the young man. "We need to end this! Get out the Pottermore quizzes!"

And that's when Luke was practically forced out of the house to get his laptop (he also decided to grab his new guitar well he was there, just in case he had the urge to play all of a sudden) and bring it back to the house for them to use.

Clementine and Duck were both on his heels trying to get a hold of the thing, Luke compromised by handing it to Sarah, who takes the quiz wishing for a Ravenclaw, and squeals once she sees her result is exactly what she hoped for.

Much to the boy's displeasure, Sarah ends up handing the laptop to Clementine afterward, and the two argue as she answers the questions and ends up with a Gryffindor, leaving Duck in a huff once it's his turn to take the quiz.

He got Hufflepuff. He almost feels bad for the guy.

When the boy seems to sink into the cushions sadly beside him, Luke gives him a smile. "Come on, what's wrong with being a Hufflepuff, Duck?"

Duck whispers to him so the other girls won't hear his admission. "They're the dumb ones."

"that ain't true," Luke says, trying to dig into the darkest depths of his mind to remember the traits of the house that he would've known by heart during his childhood. "They're loyal, friendly, hard working, I'd be proud to be a Hufflepuff."

"Yeah, Duck, Hufflepuffs aren't that bad. Cedric Diggory was a Hufflepuff! He was a really cool character, you know…when he was...alive." Clementine admits sympathetically.

Duck smiles ever so slightly, adjusting himself on the couch, a playfulness in his tone as he responds. "Yeah, Hufflepuff's great, you guys should be jealous."

"Have you taken the quiz before, Luke?" Sarah asks then.

Luke freezes in spot then, knowing how seriously the three took the quiz as well as the source material it came from, he feels as if this could be the death of him.


It's few more hours till he receives a text from Katjaa saying the kid's bedtime had arrived and that she and her husband would be at the house soon. Luke knows the moment he comprehends her text that getting these hyper active kids to bed was going to be an issue, maybe not Sarah, but Duck and Clementine surely. Thankfully, they spend a few minutes begging and bribing him to let them stay up longer, but after a few failed attempts make their way up the stairs and into their bedrooms.

Duck's bedroom looks like something out of a fairytale, space themed; the room is painted in a navy blue with white dots sprinkled all along it to resemble the starry night sky, and his bedsheets and pillow cases show that of the solar system. Stuffed in a box in a corner, Luke can see a Saturn ornament meant to hang on the ceiling poking out of it, and he assumes that the rest of the planets in the solar system are in there as well, stuffed away because an aged Duck has likely grown out of it. This was the type of bedroom Luke dreamed of as a child, there was no doubt that Katjaa and her husband truly loved their son to pieces.

In a stark contrast, Clementine's room, which she is sharing with Sarah during her stay, is completely white, except for a spot in the corner which has a few gray strokes of paint on it that looks very old and dried, a small sign there may have been plans for the room once. Her prized skateboard that Luke knew all too well laid beside a small single bed mattress on the ground, an old dresser against the wall across from the bed, and a lengthy mirror barely leaning against the wall, looking as if it was about to slip, Luke can't help but adjust it once he enters the two girl's room. The room is fairly big, but the lack of furniture and items make it appear barren.

He saunters over to the dresser curiously, noticing a handful of small prize metals, a small pair of figure skates and a single trophy that Luke grasps a hold of gingerly. "This yours?"

"Yeah. First place…" Clementine utters proudly, gazing at the piece of metal in his hand nostalgically.

"Well, congratulations." He gives it a quick up and down glance before he returns it to its place.

"Clementine's really really good, she ice skates all the time," Sarah adds quickly after, shimmying into the sleeping bag that she's placed near the younger girl's bed.

He can see a flush blur into Clementine's cheeks from her friend's praises, refusing to take the compliment when she continues. "I haven't performed competitively...or at all for that matter in...um, years...so, I'm probably lagging behind."

Luke frowns. "Really? Why not?"

"I mean...I do still skate. I have private lessons and all that...just…" Her face contorts similarly as to how it did before with Katjaa, and he notices her small hands ball into fists as they hold on to her blanket. "I have my reasons. But my coach, Christa, she's trying to convince me to get back into the game competitively, I'm not sure though."

"I hope you do, judging by all this-" he gestures to the figure skating awards scrambled across her dresser. "-you must have a talent."

"I agree!" Sarah chirps.

Clementine returns his reassuring smile with a weak one of her own before he leaves and heads downstairs.

For a majority of the night, he sits on the couch and continues to watch whatever happens to pop up on the television every half an hour. Most of his attention is on his phone, constantly checking for an update from Katjaa, or a text from Nick, who was probably back at home by now and wondering where the hell he was. He becomes a little anxious, just slightly, to the point he starts checking his phone every two minutes without realizing it.

Once he does, however, he leans over the leather couch and runs his fingers through his dusty brunette bangs. You need to calm down. He thinks to himself, if anything dire happened, Katjaa and Nick would have contacted him by now.

With a deep breath, Luke's earthy orbs focus on the guitar case near the door that he had brought to the house on a whim, he questions his resolve for a few moments, wondering if he should go through the trouble of taking out and tuning his guitar when Katjaa and her husband could walk in at any moment, but the musician in him pushes him off the couch till he unzips his baggy guitar case.

He hasn't touched the thing since he moved, scared to damage it but also at a loss for inspiration with the changes that he'd been confronting the last few weeks. His mouth slides into an easy smirk when he regains the familiar feeling of strumming on the nylon strings. Even though he's rusty, he tries his best to tune the guitar by his own instincts until he gets something that sounds right to him.

He plays with the strings at random, his fiddling sounding like a fractured song as he bounces around simple songs he knows in his brain by heart. Wonderwall is too typical...Good Riddance is too nostalgic…

"Luke?"

He makes a small yet slightly embarrassing yelp of surprise from the sudden presence, a few of the strings making an unpleasant, shrill sound from his sudden reaction.

He tilts his head around to see Clementine standing in the archway, staring back at him with warm owlish eyes, a thick white blanket draped around her that snakes across the floor as she takes a few more steps toward him.

"Clementine, what are you doing up?" Luke asks.

"I couldn't sleep…"

"Ah..." He utters in understanding, watching the girl shift awkwardly before patting the cushion beside him. "You can sit if ya want."

With a nod, she slithers along the hardwood floor in a way that's almost comical before plopping herself on the couch and curling into a ball. Her body is completely covered by blankets, only her face pokes out.

The room goes quiet and Luke goes back to playing with the strings at random but instead wonders whether he should talk to the girl or play as if she isn't there. A few brief glances show him Clementine staring at the black of the now turned off television, her eyes unblinking and most likely lost in thought. It may have been a trick of the eye, but he thinks he might see her irises watering at the rim. He doesn't want to disrupt her, but he doesn't want to sit there and not even offer himself as a source of comfort either.

He doesn't know this girl, well maybe he does, but for the short hours he's been around her she's made an impact on him, in a way. The small interaction from weeks ago could have easily gone long forgotten by him, leaving her an unrecognizable face once he came across her a second time, but he didn't. The second he set eyes on her the memory of their odd and maybe even awkward interaction that had somehow cheered him up in his miserable state came flooding into his mind. Even so, it isn't really enough to warrant him being nosy with her situation, asking questions or trying to touch on things he's ignorant of.

"You can play that?" She inquires then, nodding toward the instrument in his arms.

"The guitar? Yeah."

"Are you a musician? Is that your job?" She continues, beginning to hound him with questions.

Luke shrugs. "More of a hobby really, I thought about it when I was a kid but got myself a quick reality check."

"What happened?"

His lips purse as he gazes at her. "Life happened."

They both sit there for a long time, Luke checks his phone a few times again for messages but finds nothing each and every time except stupid youtube subscription notifications. He sighs and ends up getting lost in his own thoughts for awhile, memories about himself, Nick and his old dog, Duke, hanging out near his parent's old porch swing when they were young, his father on the fields day in day out, only returning to the house to have dinner and sleep before heading back out for the day.

Do you miss it? He asks himself then.

After a pause, he answers his own question.

No.

"Can you play a song?"

He turns his attentions to Clementine, his mind taking a few more seconds to process her words. "What?"

"Can you play a song?" She repeats in a slower pace.

He adjusts the guitar more firmly on his lap, smiling at her. "Well, depends, what do you want me to play?"

The girl doesn't even pause to consider his question. "I don't know, something good."

He snorts at her simplistic words and goes back to his thoughts on songs he knows how to play, other than Wonderwall and Good Riddance only one other song comes to mind for him.

"How about Chasing Cars?"

She perks up, a devious smirk on her face. "Chase what cars?"

He chuckles before speaking. "No, no, like the song, you know, by Snow Patrol."

She slouches back into her seat with a 'thump' sound and shakes her head.

Luke gapes and exclaims. "Are you kidding? It's a classic!"

"If it's a classic then why don't I know it?"

He digs his fingers into the arm of the guitar. "Well, you're 'bout to."

He plays the intro and watches as Clementine shuffles and eventually relaxes beside him, watching his fingers strum the chords intently. He didn't consider himself much of a singer, but he tries his best.

We'll do it all

Everything

On our own

We don't need

Anything

Or anyone

If I lay here

If I just lay here

Would you lie with me

And just forget the world?

I don't quite know

How to say

How I feel

Those three words

Are said too much

They're not enough

If I lay here

If I just lay here

Would you lie with me

And just forget the world?

Forget what we're told

Before we get too old

Show me a garden

That's bursting into life

His voice slowly fades out and the brunette is shocked to hear the soft snoring of Clementine sleeping soundly in her blanket pile, having fallen asleep at some point during his playing. Not wanting to disrupt her, he decides to stop his strumming and ends the song early, placing the guitar back into its case as silently as he can well the headlights of a car signaling Katjaa's return beam through the window.