Luke looks over his shoulder and sighs. The small dark haired girl has a cold expression as she taps a rusty crowbar against her leg.
"Why aren't you in the house?" He asks as he turns to face her.
She takes a step closer, her mouth in a tight line. "Why aren't you in the house?"
He put a hand through his hair which felt like grease in his fingers. "I -uh- just thought i heard a walker."
"Mhmm," She says, clearly seeing through his lie, "That's why you have a spare pair of clothes
and an axe."
Her angry gaze hurt Luke. She'd known him for three years now, and they were the closest in the new group, but Luke hated it there. But it wasn't the new people's fault, it was his. He missed all the people he lost, especially Nick and Pete, who he'd known for years. But now, all that were left were Clem and himself. Everyone else had died in the battle that he himself started.
"I think you're such a great person now." He says taking a step back, but she only takes another step closer. "And i think you should go back inside."
She takes a step closer, but does not reply.
"Clem, you know you're ready." He says quietly. "You can do this without a fuck up like me."
"I've seen plenty of brave people mess up, and they've regretted it, but they never got to prove themselves again. And when they had a chance, they didn't take it." She walks closer to him, "If you leave, you won't be able to save him, Luke, he'll always die. No matter how you reimagine how it could've went. He will always die. Maybe you regret a decision, but you can't change it."
Then she started to cry, something this young girl rarely did. He hugged her, and stood there clutching her as tight she was him.
"Fine." he mumbles as tears go down his eyes. But he realizes he's not crying because of the
heartwarming speech per say; he was crying at how much she had really grown up in those three damned years.