Welcome everyone to another story- a new universe I have created yet again! First of all, this story is scrapped from true events, that ended way shorter and a little less heavy than what I've written. Nonetheless, this story will be a little more on the light hearted side. I wrote it as a way to calm myself down from the hurricane that is my life, basically. Nothing's been getting easier, and burnout has been clinging on me since I started writing the fifteenth chapter of "Beyond Two Siblings", aka, the Lynn and Lincoln torture fic- jk.
I wouldn't call this a drabble, more of a short story with a simple moral lesson sprinkled in it. I wanna acknowledge my mom for giving me this idea to write in the first place. Originally, I planned this on being a one-shot- but I feel like 16k words for one chapter is brutal. I've read one shots that are a thousand times longer, but taking it from me- who's a reader that tends to skip through important words and sentences- that's too much. I'm gonna let it slip and have mercy for once lol.
Also, a special shoutout to my brothers who come from the Lynn and Lincoln Discord server, serving me with the motivation to finish this on time.
Now with that outta the way, let's head onto the story!
We Broke Us
At the age of thirteen years old, Lincoln Loud can say that puberty has been surprisingly nice to him.
Back to the days when being older meant nothing to him, his older sisters would constantly whine about being a teenager- that puberty is like a train going 150mph ready to crush you into bits until you're deformed and hideous. Okay, that description made him shudder. All credits go out to Lori for giving that explanation after a time mom and dad assigned her to give him dreaded "talk".
Other than them, the rest of the older girls have told him numerous horror stories about puberty. It was a rare and cherished moment in the Loud house, where only the older 6 kids were left behind while Lucy and the younger half were having a dance party at school. Lori's first semester in college was over so she went home for the break. The twelve-year-old boy had a whole lot to learn at his age. And of course, like every other prepubescent kid out there; the internet is always the best teacher.
Of course, dad had already told him everything he needed to know, long before when he was at the age of 7. But around that time, it just felt unrelatable? It doesn't take a long time to live in life to realize that being aware of something hits differently when you're experiencing it as well.
And also, because… that was 4 years ago. The only thing that remains etched in his mind are awkward gestures dad showed him, and the awful way he'd stammer to get his point across.
And the way his seven-year-old-self wasn't eased up one bit; sitting on the couch as dad sat beside him. Feeling horribly cramped despite the massive room in between them.
Lincoln pursed his lips. Never again will it happen.
There was also the 5th grade discussion they had with the boys and girls separated into two classrooms. Mister Wilson- who was the boys' designated teacher, wasn't actually licensed nor was he a professional. If anything, the African American man earned a degree in psychology and worked temporarily in Royal Woods Elementary as their school counselor. Though it was clear why he didn't land a proper position as a counselor there.
Mister Wilson was too lenient for the life of him; when all the boys cackled their lungs out over a diagram of a girl's naked body, excluding Lincoln of course, Mister Wilson couldn't keep his composure no matter how he tried. His strictness was throw out the window when one of them, Chandler specifically, made a joke about him showing off a demonstration- and that was his final straw; before the last thing everyone saw was Mister Wilson clutching his sides and melting to the ground in voracious amounts of laughter, in time for the bell to ring and class was dismissed. Above everything else, the only lesson learned was his sisters were never wrong: boys are nasty.
And it sucked to have to prove it right. Even Clyde, even Lincoln himself couldn't hold back on joining that contagious chorus of sniggering everyone in their class had become. But don't tell his sisters. They oughta kill him for it.
So, it was decided; in the privacy of his own room, Lincoln's fingertips did all the work as the wonders and occurrences during that strongly frowned upon stage in life opened up right before him.
And then the worst happened. Before he knew it, a gasp filled the room and he turned around.
Lincoln's heart dropped. The door was unlocked the whole time.
Standing there was Luna, at the age 16, with her mouth agape as she stared at the images displayed in Lincoln's laptop.
He spun on his heel and hovered over the laptop's screen, hoping the strange scenery that lay beyond wouldn't be looked upon even longer. "L-Luna! I-It's not what it looks like!"
Everyone from Lori to Leni, and potentially Lincoln, had and would go through puberty like babies in a maze- with no map would guide them on where to begin, nor would any of the things they pass through give them a hint of what's at the end of the tunnel. Everything was to be discovered on their own. Only when they're actually going through it and becoming too ashamed to mention that they're stuck in that little maze.
But of course, the Loud family wasn't that cruel. There were… let's say, a little seminar on the pointers: the do's and don'ts.
With your very great host, Lori Loud, and the other nosy teenage girls in this house.
Because no offense to mom and dad, but if dad's 'weird signals' were anything to go by, then no. They do awful jobs at trying to teach their kids about the birds and the bees. To not come prepared for the inevitable is ridiculous enough for parents who decided to throw away the use of contraceptives and pop out a new baby nearly every year.
And likewise, in our culture, if the parents fail their responsibility, then it was up to the oldest children to refresh the minds of the pure younglings, and reopen scars they had earned as a result of mom dad's sex talks.
Not long after, when Luna escaped her stupor, her face turned into a wide smirk before she went into a fit of giggling. It was no ordinary giggle. There was a hint of malicious intent sprinkled in it.
"Girls!" She yelled. "I think it's about time we give Lincoln another talk."
In a flash, the Loud sisters assembled all at once right in front of his room. Dang it! Now there's nowhere to run!
"W-wait, girls!" Their stares were melting him until he was an inch tall. "I-I know about this stuff already! I swear! Dad already taught me-"
"You can't get past this, Lincoln~" Lori said in a sing-song voice. "Every one of us had to go through it. You just can't avoid it."
This is why the internet is his first choice.
Luan moved forward. "Yeah, like hand-me-downs."
The girls all shared a laugh, to Lincoln's growing uneasiness. "W-what're you gonna do to me?"
"Oh," Leni started, "We won't do anything to you, Linky!"
"Yeah," Lynn rested her hands on her hips, a wide smirk growing on her face. "Your question should be more 'what are you gonna tell me?'."
Then restrained by the six teenage girls that surrounded him; to the sparking skepticism on their younger sisters' faces, Lincoln was dragged into the dungeon that was Lori's room.
Needless to say, stuff about puberty wasn't the only thing he learned. But also, how to keep on guard on whoever's gonna come into his room. Ever since then, Lincoln hasn't been able to sleep tight without the memory of his older sisters' past nightmarish tales of puberty haunting his dreams.
But it's been over a year, and only now did Lincoln find out that his sisters were just giving him a scare. It was October 31st, which may explain why they were doing what they did.
Or maybe, they were actually dead serious and he should've just kept an eye on the door while he "researched".
No. Nothing on his search had anything to do with contraband. Lincoln is a good boy, with morals. All he did was in the name of curiosity. What gave away to Luna that he was skeptic about stuff like puberty were probably the graphs of the female and male reproductive parts on his laptop. Yeah, definitely.
Whatever terror they'd inflicted on him when he was 12, had been shrugged off at this point. All those nightmares and sleepless nights for the prude that was Lincoln from a year ago are gone. Wiped out from the memory disk in his head.
Because whatever negative thing they said about puberty is as real as that one imitation of Nike with the brand being called "Mike".
They once told him that puberty will make you a literal floor mat on one second, and then make you screech and do reckless parkour in a rampage like BTS made their debut in your town. Not once did he ever have an experience like that.
Okay, he did- but it was for a good reason! That day, he failed a geometry test he studied so hard for. But Clyde cheered him up by blessing him with his God-given talent for cooking and made him a whole plate of his favorite food. Mmmm, his mouth can still taste the tangy flavor of PB Sauerkraut sandwiches.
At one point, they also mentioned that all the zits would pile up on his face like that international tourist spot they all learned in elementary called "Chocolate Hills", somewhere in a Southeast Asian country. And that knowing his horrible excuse of a sleep schedule, there'll come a time that he'll get called 'pimp'!
Which doesn't sound half bad…?
"It's short for 'Pimple Farm', you doofus! Geddit?". That animated laughter kicked in was when the terror finally sunk in.
But the last time he's checked, his face is smoother than your kitchen floor. Take that Luan!
It was natural to say Lincoln sort of did resent his older sisters- only sort of!- because they never told him the perks of going through puberty!
Ronnie Anne has never been more impressed by his now 'macho-guapito voice', as she called it. Yeah, sometimes there's a hitch and his voice cracks like a singer going off tune- but there has been a noticeable change in it. Recording his own voice has never felt more satisfying. Call him a narcissist, but he sounded hot.
Not to mention all the chest hair he was bound to grow eventually. Yeah, yeah. White hair is genetic in their family, so that did mean hair in other places would also be platinum. So that wasn't exactly his proudest trait, but whatever. Hair is hair. And hair is a sign of masculinity.
Speaking of hair in other places, Lincoln could forgive his sisters a little bit for their traumatizing puberty talk a year ago. They weren't wrong about… those other hairs.
But moving on, was the best part: His general appearance. The baby fat on his face was slowly getting shaven off, forming a more bean-like appearance on him like his older sisters.
Saying he's grown is an understatement. All his shoes have been replaced with bigger sizes, pants have been reduced and it only reached his ankles now. Mom and dad had to shell out their wallets for his new closet change. As he looks into the mirror to flex his biceps, no longer does he see a limp noodle excuse of an arm. Instead, his biceps have grown a little toner and he has gained a little weight- in a good way. No longer was he "Lincoln-Lame-the-scrawny-dork".
Actually, he still was… but it's only because none of those bullies have seen his developing abs yet!
His body has become toner over the course of a few months, and it was mainly Lynn he should thank for it. Lincoln had never been such a lady's man since.
Speaking of Lynn, didn't she invite him to play basketball?
"Stinkin', get outta here! You're wasting daylight!" And there's his cue.
Lincoln jumped out of the sofa, clad in his new style of clothes: His shoes remained the same, because Adidas is life. But the orange polo was thrown out and replaced with a V-cut orange shirt instead. His hands still reach to close the buttons sometimes out of habit. His jeans were long overdue, and denim didn't feel as comfy as it did before anymore. This time, it was replaced with a blue jogger, enabling him to run easy and move around more freely with this silky, stretchable cloth; Got it all from his 13th birthday. "Coming, Lynn!"
"You better be!"
His hand reached the front doorknob and twisted, seeing the sunny day at its best. On the near left, the sound of a rubber ball hit against gravel echoed. And upon seeing the blur of red and white, Lincoln didn't even need to find her. "Hey!"
"C'mon bro!" Lynn stopped running, tucking the ball under her arm. She wore a red varsity jacket complemented by red matching red shorts, and a black shirt that had a number one. Because of course, Lynn doesn't wear anything that won't scream who she is. "Let's shoot some hoops!"
There was no lie in being taller now. It's like, when you reach 13, a magic seems to enchant you and every morning when you wake up, you're an inch taller. Not even he understood the physics of it, and he was a Junior magician.
Just kidding. You better not tell Lisa that, otherwise she'll end up in a whole Science discussion that's more than unnecessary.
So, with that being said, growing into new heights everyday had its benefit. At this point, the growth spurt had made him as tall as Luan is. Lynn was never even tall to begin with but her sports expertise makes her a professional at Basketball, which denounces both her gender and her height. But now that he's taller, this means the upper hand is his- literally.
Lincoln walked towards her, shedding himself from the radiating heat of the morning sun by hovering a hand over his head.
"You look like those pictures of girls on Instagram saying sun kissed." The fifteen-year-old teased. "I bet you're one of them too,"
Lynn was thrown a raspberry. "I act more of a girl than you, and I'm a guy. Doesn't that sound insulting to your female pride?"
Her eyes rolled as she dropped the ball and dribbled it up and down. "I'm not like other girls."
Only girls who're like other girls say that. "Now that you say that, I'm beginning to think you aren't."
"Oh, shut up," Lynn punched his shoulder with the force of a stone. "Anyway, ready to get your butt kicked?"
"I'll play dirty if it means I get to mop the floor with you!" Lincoln snatched the ball out of her hands with a teasing laugh.
"Oh no you don't, you cheeky-"
He couldn't hear her over the sound of his potential victory. "You gotta catch the ball first!"
"Stinkin'!" A sharp whistle impaled his unexpecting ears. Lincoln dropped the ball and covered his eardrums before they end up breaking. "Ah, Lynn! What gives?"
Lynn grabbed the ball, a scowl worn on her face. "We play 5 rounds. Whoever reaches 20 shots wins."
"5 rounds?" Lincoln went near her, looking down on her petty height. "That's weak. Got any more?"
She growled. "Fine. We go 10 rounds, how's the sound of that?"
Oh boy. What was he getting into? "20. Gi'mme your best shot."
"No. Make that 25." Lynn smirked as she looked up at him, dribbling the ball in her hand. "Are you tryna land yourself into an E.R?"
"No," Lincoln breathed out. "I'm landing myself in the Hall of Fame."
Lynn snorted. "Once a dork, always a dork."
And after Lincoln had successively snatched the ball from her again, was when the game had officially begun.
They both sat on the front porch stairs, panting with a sheen of redness and sweat coating their faces after that wild match.
"Wow, bro. You're really improving. I haven't had a one on one match this intense since the school play-offs." Lynn said breathlessly. "You beat me down by 10 points… I can't believe it."
"I told you I'd mop the floor with you." Lincoln nudged her. Another thing to add to his resume. Lincoln Loud: Dork, Magician, Psychic, and future NBA player- even if sports weren't his thing. "I'd like to give puberty all special credits."
It's as if his words were a light switch that turned her off. Lynn's once bubbly disposition morphed into something darker. The radiating energy that bounced off from her vanished. But her a smile still remained. Not one of arrogance or confidence, but more of a sober one as she looked at the ground. Looking like the game she's been waiting for all season hadn't matched the expectation and results she wanted.
Lincoln's heart sank at the sight. His hand reached to touch her shoulder. "Lynn? Did I say something wrong?"
"Nah, Linc. I'm as good as I always am." Lynn let out a dry laugh, her mouth forming a thin smile.
She didn't waste time before getting up on her feet and dusting her red shorts off. "I'm gonna go get changed now. You probably should too."
"W-wait," Lincoln stood up and rushed to the speeding Lynn, tugging the bottom of her open red and white varsity jacket. "Are you sure you don't wanna play ball anymore? I'm still up for the challenge!"
If there's anything that can make Lynn feel better, then surely, it's an offer she can't resist!
"No. Just leave me alone!" Lynn yanked herself away, before rushing inside the house in a blink of an eye.
Did he say something wrong?
The bannisters of the porch were sturdy as it supported weight of his arms resting on it. By all accounts, Lincoln wasn't a mind reader, meta-human, or God. There was no telling what people felt when a single word's been spoken. But knowing Lynn, and how she gets when something hits her nerves, it's sure enough that whatever he said must've triggered something in her.
Or maybe it was a girl problem? They were all moody time to time. At one point when he and Ronnie Anne had a friendly romantic fling months ago, (Don't say a word; nobody in his family knew that), they both got conflicted with her blaming him for a problem that went on in her life that definitely didn't have him involved…? Technically?
For all Lincoln knew, girls had a tendency to accuse boys of being in the wrong, no matter the lack of evidence, or stupidity of their accusation. Just like how Lori did when Bobby he forgot their date anniversary (like what's so wrong with being forgetful?).
There was a time when Lincoln and Clyde first speculated that Bobby's cheating on Lori, like 2 years ago, but in their defense, there was proof to make up for their dumb conclusions!
And let's not forget their united "women powers": they have a talent where they're claiming not to be angry, even though their faces are on the contrary. Just like mom to dad, Lori to Bobby, Ronnie Anne to him. And pretty much every other girl in this universe that's entered his life.
But there's no girl out there like Lynn- she's a malfunctioning light bulb constantly flickering on and off. Anything done or said will provoke the brightest light or the darkest night out of her. It's been witnessed multiple times first-hand; and as she grew older, Lynn became worse than Lola herself.
Maybe it's justified, because Lynn is fifteen. Fifteen- year-olds are hormonal and moody. And she's a girl. Maybe… it's the time of the month?
Lincoln vigorously shook his head to get the atrocious image in mind. It's natural, yeah, but still… yuck. Good thing guys don't go through that.
'There's nothing to be worked out about.' Lincoln tapped on the bannister. 'Lynn just needs space. She'll be back to being annoying, arrogant, egotistical self by dinner.'
But the question remained; what exactly bothered her?
Oh, David Steele, Lincoln looked up to the Heavens. Teach me your expert ways on investigating. Tell me, what do I need to do first? Make me the Sherlock of Royal Woods, even for just a day.
He shifted and cloth clung onto his sweaty skin. And there's the first answer. First things first, change now; worry later. There was a whole day to formulate plans, and put them into action.
That is, if life would give in to what he wants that easily.
Lincoln wasn't gonna spend the whole day worrying about Lynn, right? Wrong.
The keyword here is tried. After thousands of attempts to get her off his mind, there was no way.
It was Sunday today, which meant the only logical conclusion there is that it's Monday- and the stack of homework has been left untouched since the day he and his friends walked out of the school property, ready to seize the day with fun. There was English, and then Science, and wow. This is a rare collectible to all the jocks out there: P.E.
None of these subjects were a challenge at all, not especially since they were only given a pop-sheet for P.E, so that means no Tik Toks, no exercising, no physical movement. Just physical education taught through mental stimulation. Whew. Easy peesy.
He was sat there on the dining room table, a wide array of papers of different sizes splayed out in a uniformed organization as the pencil on his was being chewed on. The Loud House's noise shrunk as the years go by; with Lori and Leni in different colleges, (Yes, the latter got into a university in Georgia that was founded by a Korean that offered a fashion course), and the rest of his older sisters having their own activities outside the house. Lincoln was only thirteen, but it was a major role in his life to play the oldest sibling in the house now.
But now that his younger sisters were older, they could fend for themselves and help out in the house a little bit too. Which unlike before, spared him some time to do important, pending tasks.
Now, onto the easiest subject: English Literature.
The textbook and pop sheet were laid in front of him, flat on the table. Literature was a sort-of combination of homeroom and social studies. For this week, the topic's all about bullying and the effects of it. What better way to spread awareness on social prejudice than writing fancy stories on kids' textbooks, right?
Nobody's complaining. In fact, this is probably the most enjoyable- not to mention most relatable time he's ever had in literature class. And for a moment, he thought they were gonna learn about a dead man and his history in the poem industry. That's good too… but if you had to pick between an awesome comic, and another awesome comic- but with the protagonist being identical to you, what would you choose?
"A jock and a nerd? Wow…" What a turn off already. They really need to cut it with the clichés. It happens in real life, usually somewhere in middle school to high school, but come on! Can't they pick a bully that doesn't wear a varsity jacket and is the captain of their football team? What about snotty rich kids who relentlessly torture the average kid because they don't wear Gucci or cook with money as their stoves?
Lincoln sucked in his upper lip into a pout. This was gonna be boooooring.
But this was for school. What choice did he have?
This jock and nerd have names too. The jock's called Brad, because of course the name's gonna be generic, and the nerd's name is Kent. Anyway, so Brad torments Kent like he's a walking sap of garbage. Until one day, the nerd stops coming to school. At first, the jock was nonchalant about it, but as days pass and there's still no update on the whereabouts of Kent, he starts to worry for the poor thing and gets distracted in his classes and even goes into measures such as skipping school to find him.
When Brad found Kent somewhere in a park sitting on the benches, the meathead begs for an apology in a close to melodramatic fashion. As it turns out, Brad's a stereotypical jock whose skull is too thick to differentiate fun and harm. And it took this long for Brad's parents to force him to apologize via phone, and wait- they didn't even need to. Because the two of them already made up and went to the local ice cream store.
"Alright… question number one. Do you relate to the bully?" Lincoln's his lip curled into a sneer. "Heck no. Why would I as dumb as to hurt somebody for fun?"
Then there was Lynn and the sarcastic compliment to himself. This jock was starting to sound a little like himself earlier. He spoke too soon.
He slid the pop sheet and English book to the side as Lincoln got another set of his homework. Ah yes, Science.
Opening his textbook to the assignment their teacher assigned, Lincoln finally found the page.
"Have you ever hurt somebody without knowing why? Perhaps you did something small that means a whole lot to them, or you might've said a word that offended them. Either way, no solution can't be fixed without a simple heart to heart talk." The textbook says.
"Cite 5 scenarios where you have hurt someone and managed to find a way to fix it-
Nope. The book shut closed. Enough homework for today.
P.E? Not even considering it.
Every turn, every glance, Lynn haunted him everywhere. From the footballs on his P.E textbook, to the drawing of a frowning person. It was crazy what a little mood spoiler can do to the spoiler himself.
"That's it. I'm done." Shoving his homework to the side of the table and getting up on his feet, Lincoln strolled past the living room where the twins were watching Blarney and got a hold of the door knob to the front door. There were better things to do right now.
The door opened and he walked out. Like to distract himself from the weight of being Lincoln.
Cars ran by as he sat by the porch. By all means, Lincoln is not the most selfless guy to his sisters out there. And yeah, sometimes, lies are the only way to U-turn from a painful sting of trouble's karma. At times, life may have been better if he were the only kid. But if there's one thing in this world that can't be ignored, is when one of his sisters are upset. Especially if the fingers are on him. Technically, it is his fault for unintentionally insulting her. But how would he have known that it'd offend her?
Yet somehow, she made it feel like he was responsible there for a second. But then again, maybe he was.
It didn't matter anymore. Because however way we wanna interpret the story and tweak the scenes, the fact remains the same: Something is bothering Lynn, and somebody needs to get to the bottom of it.
And as the one who triggered the bullet, it's his duty to heal her for what she needs to recover from.
"Oh… yes." A wide smirk slid in the tip of Lincoln's lip. An idea was quickly formulated in mind. There was a way to solve this.
Lincoln got up and went inside the house, looking for one familiar face.
And found her watching Vampires of Melancholia. "Hey Lucy,"
"Sigh. Hi Lincoln."
Beside her on the couch was a vacant seat. Lincoln made himself at home. "Do you have any idea where Lynn is?"
"She's right in backyard prepping herself up for her basketball game tomorrow."
"Ah," So that's where she was. "I gotta go. Thanks Luce!"
Maybe talking to her would be the only choice.
But Lynn was never a talker. There's gotta be a way to make her sit.
Master of Convincing style, patent pending.
"Wooh!" Her cheer echoed in the kitchen. Bingo.
Alright, Lincoln took a deep breath and jogged in place. There aren't any scripts planned out before this conversation. Wish me luck.
A boost of energy lifted him up like being carried by people in a stage dive. And the door to the back of the house was pried open in a second.
"Hey Lynn!"
It was the perfect timing; she wasn't playing or dribbling the wall so that way, it's easier to lure her in without waiting on her to shoot it to the hoop. "Oh, hi Linc."
His stomach dropped when a little part of her energy diminished upon seeing his face. "You, uh… P-playing ball again?"
Lynn picked up the still ball on the grass. "Yeah. Basketball semi-finals is tomorrow."
Oh, so it was? A flicker of doubt sparked. It's still worth a shot. "W-Wanna try against me?"
It's gotta be the only way. Next step, talk to her while playing. That might get her to fess up.
"Nah." The light was blown away from the candle. "I was about to get going to my team, anyway."
There's no giving up! Lincoln followed her as she walked to the backdoor of the house. If she won't take an offer, then only force would do.
"Lynn, there's something I need to ask you-"
"What in the world do you need?" She spun on her heel with bared gritted teeth.
If this argument would get it settled between them, so be it. "Why… w-why did you just stormed off earlier? D-did I do something wrong?"
"Out of all people, you're the one who understands it the most: I need. Personal. Space!". Lynn looked up at him straight in the eyes, her lip thin and forehead creased. "There's nothing you did wrong unless you're gonna keep chasing me around like a dog!"
She averted her gaze before trying to make a run for it.
But a vice-grip held her arm back. "Then if I'm good to go, what's wrong with you?"
Lynn glowered at him and tried to tug herself away. "What is your deal, Stinkin'!"
"I care about you, that's what!" Lincoln's voice raised. "You're not telling me everything. I just wanna know if you're alright!"
All at once, his hand lost its grip when Lynn had yanked her arm with the might that took him off guard. "Prying into my business is NOT what you call caring!"
"Lynn! Dang it!" Only the blur of red and white was seen before the girl vanished. Lincoln stomped on the ground with an audible growl. Why was she making it so hard? For him? For herself?
"Uh… bro? You and LJ good?" Lincoln turned and found Luna sitting underneath the tree of their backyard, with an acoustic guitar in hand. Great She saw all the drama happen too.
"Yes, Luna. We're fine." He let out through clenched teeth.
She dropped her acoustic guitar and stood up in front of him. Only an inch difference between their height now. "It doesn't look like it."
"Seriously, Luna, this is our business. You don't need to get involved." Lincoln pushed her away, going backwards with a strained smile. "We got this all figured out."
The rocker snorted. "Says the guy who gets roasted for being nosy." Luna crossed her arms with a scoff. "Give her space, bro. God knows if you don't, then it's a literal dead end for you."
How useful information. Remind me twice. He pushed out an exhale out his nose. "Thanks."
"Look, I know how much making up with Lynn means to you." Out of all people in their house, Luna was the most understand between all of them. Leni had her lingering confusions here and there, and Lori when it was her reign? She was too quick to judge. "But come on, bro. LJ said it herself; you know better than anyone else that privacy and personal space is super important. Weren't you the one who forced us to stop coming in your room as you got older?"
Yeah. Yeah, he was… Ever since that puberty talk incident, never again would locks and keys be taken for granted.
And the hypocrisy of pushing Lynn to the limit made it sound like he was the bad guy. Which, technically, he is.
Luna didn't even wait for him to nod when she reached out to touch his shoulder and squeeze it. "What's nerve-wracking you? LJ is the moodiest Loud to exist. The moment a ball comes her way, I bet, no- I'm sure she won't even remember being peeved about you in the first place."
Still. There has to be some closure somehow. But first, that priority will be second.
The seventeen-year-old was still waiting for a reaction to be knocked out of him. "You're right."
When they both parted ways and Lincoln slumped his way back inside the house, maybe it was true. Lincoln hoped to believe it is.
