The Loud House // It's Too Much || Clincoln

[Five - Lincoln]

I walked Clyde over to my motorcycle, but paused before letting him go. I stood there, holding him in my arms with his head in the crook of my neck. I don't remember the last time I ever held someone like this. I know that I've carried my younger sisters to bed like this, but this doesn't seem the same. This is - is this cuddling?

My smile drops thinking of Clyde. I never asked how he felt about this. All I ever thought of was myself. I could tell how uncomfortable he felt in the Secretary's Office. Maybe he doesn't like being touched, I never really talked to him.

I've barely ever talked to this guy; I literally just met him earlier today, and what am I doing? Carrying him to my motorcycle so we could skip school together.

What if someone saw and started talking around school?

I snap out of it when I feel Clyde pull his head away from my shoulder. I finally let him down, my own face burning.

I hate how my chest hurts. I try to push it off as heartburn and try not to think about it.

"Ready?" I ask him, pulling him closer to my bike and hand him my extra helmet while putting on my own. Me nodded even though I would've made him wear one anyway.

I kindly helped him onto the seat (because I am a nice person, mom) before throwing my own leg over the seat.

"You're going to hold on tight, I don't want you to be the first person to fall off this thing," I laugh as he quickly wraps his arms around me tightly and forces his forehead onto my shoulder. I push up the kickstand and rev it up. We take off out of the student's parking lot at the speed, and Clyde holds onto me tighter.

This is normal, right? People do this with friends?

We go down a couple blocks until we end up in front of my house. It's only when we pull into the driveway that he looks up and loosens his grip on my waist. I put down the kickstand and get off the bike, taking off my helmet and help him off like I did getting him on. I didn't know if he was capable of walking on his own now, so I watched him for a couple of seconds.

He seemed capable of standing on his own, but that wasn't what I noticed first.

Clyde was staring up at the house and his eyes seemed to flash. His eyebrows would constantly furrow then return to normal, his mouth curving upwards then downwards. Does he not like it? I mean, it's worn down, but it's not that bad.

"Uh, lets go inside," I said quickly, pulling him up the front steps.

I used my key and easily walked through the doorway and into the empty house. The walls surrounding the stairway were littered with awkward family photos, practically showcasing all of my phases throughout the years. I shivered as I saw a picture of me from freshman year.

We entered my room, and I release his hand and guide him to the bed. He sits down and I make my way to the closet.

I rustle through the hangers and start to search for my sweatshirts and sweaters. I found myself a nice black pullover sweatshirt, and throw Clyde a dark blue sweater. He doesn't hesitate to put it on, and I easily pull mine over my head. I flatten the sweatshirt over my chest and notice Clyde rolling up his sleeves.

I groaned, finally remembering that my shirts aren't meant for normal people with normal proportioned bodies.

I grabbed him off the bed by his arm before I could think about it any more, dragging him out of the house as quickly as I dragged him in. I only stopped walking when we arrived next to the motorcycle again.

"How do you feel about the park?" I suggested, putting my helmet back on over my hat. He nodded in response before shoving his own helmet on. I swung my leg over the bike and he quickly followed. It's only when I feel his arms hesitantly wrap around my waist that I speak again.