Wheat and Barley (Male! Clementine x Female!Reader)

Yesterday Is Gone

 A gift for RJ for giving us amazing X Readers (especially The Walking Dead series) and for her consistency in giving us worthwhile updates :) This one's for you my friend!
-animeangel
        

Warning: This story will contain slightly mature scenes, language, dark themes, and gore        

A faint greyish blue hue filtered through the boarded up window of yours’ and Clem’s shared room. Judging from the lighting and the fact that the sun had yet to peek over the horizon, you guessed it had to be somewhere between six and seven in the morning. Had it been summer time, harsh rays of daylight would have filled each and every room in the school by now, rousing everyone from sleep so they could work busily through another day of survival.

Fortunately, the dog days had been behind you for a few weeks now and fall had finally set in, relieving everyone from the intense heat. As much as everyone was glad to be rid of sweat and sunburn, the cool winds and falling leaves brought new concerns to the table.

Winter was coming and it closing in fast.

In the past, fear of starvation and merciless raiders had constantly hung over Ericson like scavengers over dying prey. Always present, always watching, always waiting.

In the present day, almost three years later, those fears were merely scars of the past, reminders of what used to be and what would never happen again. Not if you could help it ,anyway.

It was astounding, really, what all had happened in the few years since Clem had taken over as leader and made this place a permanent home for you and AJ. The new era of Ericson had begun with a fresh start; from sorting through old junk to eradicating the boundaries of the safe zone, the boarding school slowly made a complete one-eighty. Supply trades were made with passing survivors deemed trustworthy while others were given fair warning to stay the hell away or else. Those stupid enough to test those warnings learned very quick how much weight they carried. 

Repairs were made right away with what materials were lying around or what the supply runners could salvage. With enough sweat and elbow grease, things started coming together. Soon enough the greenhouse was flourishing, the kitchen was cleaned up, and the basement became an armory and storage unit for extra supplies. 

On the whole, Ericson had truly become a place worth fighting for. All that was left was to rename it.

Violet had been the one to bring the idea up when construction had finished. Nobody argued. A new beginning deserved a new name...that and the guy was a complete dick. Contrary to it’s (sorta) renewed state, it was henceforth dubbed The Rotting Shithole. 

A home at last.

You smiled to yourself at the memories. It’s hard to believe everything worked out so well in the end, for once. In the corner of your eye, you spied two drawings on the wall, paper yellowing with age but still holding up nonetheless. The corners of your lips twitched down as the uncolored portrait ,specifically, caught your attention. Well...almost everything. Exhaling wearily through your nose and your eyes slid shut in solemn acceptance. What’s done is done.

The rustling of blankets shifting beside you made one eye peek open. When a soft snore followed, the smile returned to your face. Propping your arm up, you rested your head in your palm and gazed down at your bed partner.

Though you both had finished growing, Clement had reached the final stages of maturity in appearance. Dark curly hair fell over his face and the nape of his neck in messily chopped locks while a very light stubble outlined his jaw, becoming slightly more prominent as it reached his chin. Where Lee had been tall and broad in physique, Clem was slender and only a few inches shy of six feet. Thin yet powerful muscles lined his body, hardened by many years of running and toil.
                
“Y’know you’re staring right?” Clem mumbled groggily, lips barely parting. “That’s not good manners, (y/n).” Your eyes widened a fraction. So he wasn’t as deep in sleep as you had previously thought. Despite being caught you played it off. “Kinda hard not too, Clem.”