The best kind of trouble [Clementine x Louis] English version

Chapter 2: Confrontation

 A/N: Seems that people haven't liked this fanfic in the English version, unlike the Spanish version. I'll give it some time, and if I don't get any feedback from the readers, I'll stop translation for a matter of time. Thanks to all that have read me till now.  

The dinner hour seemed endless. Louis's only wish was to be alone so he didn't have to risk facing Clementine. He was supposed to eat in front of the fire, to claim a false feeling of being cold, and staying fighting his thoughts on his own. But then AJ took him by the arm.

—Louis, sit with us.

—It's just ... —he said— I'm starting with the flu. And believe me, you don't want me to infect you. Tomorrow, a walker will look better than me.

—But we're team fun.

The illusion in AJ's face was priceless. A child so young had become the person who had the most expectations about Louis, as if he were an older brother. A super hero. That's why he didn't have the heart to give him a snub.

—You're right, little man. —Louis agreed, smiling docilely, though he swallowed when he realized that the free seat was next to Clementine.

At the table, the young woman's intense gaze met his. The contact was short, but sharp, as if an invisible force connected them from the chest and forced them to collide again and again, no matter how embarrassed they felt. They both noticed that they were skimming unconsciously. It was suddenly natural for one hand to look for the other in any way, even if it was for something as vain as passing the silverware. With every movement among his figures, Louis felt less and less able to keep dodging her. Where could he flee? Surviving seemed a more accessible journey than escape. Of dying he also felt capable, strangely. It is very possible to want to vanish because you want a person too much.

As never before, the youngest members of the group took over what was said that night. The troubled pair, on the other hand, was invisible. That was until the dishes were raised and the group dispersed heading to the dorms. Clementine and AJ were the first to cross the entrance. Louis entered the end, somewhat slow, reflective. But the introspection came to an end when Clementine stepped on the stairs.

He knew that position, with firm arms to the sides and chin held high.

—Come with me. We need to talk. —she ordered.

Shit. Here came the conversation he feared so much. Evasiveness and denials were over. Taking a breath, Louis followed Clementine down the hall until he entered what had been Marlon's office. By the time he crossed the door, the girl had managed to light a candle and was about to take a seat on the desk. Louis preferred to remain standing, at a safe distance.

As always, Clementine omitted to go around the bush.

—You've been eluding me lately and I don't like it. You haven't been yourself. You've always been the one who brings the group together and calms the mood with a game or something, but now you shun the company, and you don't like being alone.

It was true. He detested loneliness, and the silence caused him reticence, because the isolation made him think too much about the family he would never see again, in the people he had lost, in the low probability of reaching eighteen, and in the nightmares where he was bitten or worse. But now he needed that, because what he felt was stronger than his fears.

Before, being alone with Clementine had no greater science. He felt happy with her, as if renewed, and that's where he arrived. Now it was difficult for him to control his imagination. There was a faint, but enveloping heat in him. And it was fast, violent, decisive.

—What happened to you, Louis?

And he mentally shouted "I love you!" "I want you!", so that his desperate voice reached her heart. Not to ruin it with the clumsiness of words. Louis opened his mouth, but his tongue became heavy. How could he explain without being like a depraved bastard? She would slap him and close the door in his face. She wouldn't talk to him again. It would all go to hell. He preferred to silence the main thing and just say:

—You already know.

A singular modesty rose in Clementine's face, feeling evident. She looked away immediately, looking to one side. To break with the apparent break generated with his phrase, Louis began by apologizing for what he had not been accused.

—It was an accident. Don't think that I was ---

—I know. —she said, looking at the floor, a bit embarrassed.

A clandestine shame shook the girl. Suddenly there were important doubts that only he could answer. She caressed the desk to calm herself. She was craving into cravings.

—Tell me the truth. When we kissed, did you feel something beyond the moment, or you don't like me anymore?

—Fuck, but what are you saying, Clem? —Louis asked, barely believing what he was hearing.— Of course I like you. I like you a lot. Who wouldn't like you?

That answer would have charmed any girl about Clementine's age, but she still wasn't finished.

—And when you saw me in the stream, did you like it?

Stunned, Louis fixed his eyes on the girl's. Maybe he had heard wrong. But no. When he found her looking at him peacefully, he was amazed at the naturalness with which she had asked him that question, as if he had told her. He smiled spontaneously in reaction. He looked at her for a long time, his fingers convulsing, as if they were still standing by the water, and he told himself that she was sublime, and a secret requiebrium invaded him.

—Clem ... it was much more than liking it. —he admitted. That was the problem.

—Show me

And he understood that that "show me" meant "I love you". He shortened the distance, approaching her more and more impulsively, with an enigmatic spark over his eyes, until he took her face and kissed her rapturously. And the kiss between them was also burning, because an unknown instinct was pushing them to open their mouths and let their tongues meet for the first time. Soft involuntary moans escaped from both.

How wonderful. What a delight to feel. Why hadn't they done it before?

Clementine's hands went to the boy's hair, entangling his fingers. He attached her to her body from the waist, until they were no longer just two joined mouths, as in the piano, but they two, full, from head to toe, separated by clothes and nothing more. Heat, too hot. The kiss, the desk, the frantic contact between their anatomies, conferred the tinge of a discovery. And they knew how exciting it was to touch their tongues, and the sweet agony of such closeness. Her and him.

But when Louis reached the neck, a hard protrusion betrayed him when it hit the belly of the girl.

Shit.

A sharp expression of surprise was present in Clementine's features, stopping the kisses immediately, as if she had awakened from a spell. Only then she look down and notice both his erection and the sensation of swelling in her own sex.

A moment of stupor reigned. Becoming a victim of her inexperience, Clementine was overwhelmed. She got scared.

—Sorry —she said sadly, pulling away from Louis and hastily arranging her clothes as she left.

Louis wanted to call her, but his eagerness was broken in a kind of choked and hoarse cry. He couldn't call her; how to do it, if he had seen the awe on her face? He gave her her space, to reassure her. The last thing he wanted was for her to fear him.

He took a few seconds to regain normality in his breathing and left for his room. He still had a problem to solve between his legs.