Almost Unreal | Violentine One-Shots

It Was Always You | Adoration

The air around Clementine is thick with the scents of approaching autumn. Underneath her feet, rotten leaves coloured orange by the late summer sun turn into pulp. This path is well walked, by both humans and the dead alike.

Clementine chews her lip as she walks through the midst of the thick forest. She glances up and the sun and removes her hat, wiping away the beads of sweat that have begun to appear on her forehead. She replaces her cap and continues her walk, carefully keeping an eye on her surroundings as she trudges through the shrubs.

Clementine tries to pretend that she doesn't know why she's ventured out here, what possible reason outside of a scouting mission could see her past the safety of the walls. Out amongst the walkers and dangers of the outside world. However, when she thinks hard enough, she knows why. As much as she's tried to hide it from herself, she's grown feelings, and Clementine is tired of living a life void of enjoyment. She wants to feel something, and Violet makes her feel something.

Her eyes brighten as she spots a colourful scattering of wildflowers sprouting from the soil by her feet, a smile breaks on her face as she leans over and unsheathes her knife. The metal sings as it slices through the stems of the flowers. It's a pleasant contrast to the last time she had to use this knife. She can almost smell the scent of decaying muscle tissue and stringy sinew, see the blood browned by age and hear snapping teeth close to her skin as she looks at the weapon in her hand.

She shakes the memory from her head and looks down at the flowers in the palm of her hand; she doesn't even know if Violet likes flowers. Smiling to herself as she gently grasps the makeshift bouquet, she continues towards the school; she hopes that Violet likes them. Or at least the effort and thought that Clementine has gone through to secure this gift.

Their night on the bell tower (though marred by the looming attack of the raiders) had been one of the best nights in Clementine's life. As she thinks it over, she smiles fondly. She'd been confused over her feelings for Violet almost from the moment she'd walked through the gates to the school all those weeks ago.

At first, akin to a determination to crack Violet's tough exterior, the feelings coursing through her body grew to something more. Electrical currents that flowed through her every time Violet drew near, or asked Clementine for help, or was assigned on the same scouting mission as the brunette. These times of closeness and bonding only solidified Clementine's understanding of her feelings for the older girl.

Prior to meeting Violet Clementine hadn't really given much consideration into feelings or love. She grew up in a world where survival was the only thing that mattered. The only thing she had time for. She'd seen love though, and what it could do. Almost every group she'd been a part of had been torn apart by love in one way or another, so Clementine had always written it off. She doesn't want to do that anymore.

Kenny lost so much of himself because he risked loving other people, all the loss he went through, Katjaa, Duck, Sarita. His journey showed Clementine that opening up to love also opens you up to vulnerability and loss. When she stumbled across Luke and Jane on top of the observation deck, Clementine could tell that while there was no strengthened connection between them, there was something. And that fleeting moment they'd shared together to forget the world had later cost Jane her life.

Gabe was something; she can't deny that there was a pull there. However, it paled in comparison to the magnetic force she feels when she's by Violet's side. Given all that she's seen, Clementine should know better than to let herself fall victim to these feelings. To love. But she can't help it, and she doesn't want to fight anymore.

To her left, she hears the low gurgle of a nearby walker and Clementine tenses her grip on her knife, the biting edge of the metal cools down her skin which has warmed from the late August sun. The lurker is a few meters to her left, ambling around aimlessly as best it can on desiccated limbs and weak muscle tissue. The brunette watches it for a while, waiting until the walker has turned away before she continues to carve the path towards the old boarding school. Far in the distance in the gaps between the ancient pine trees, Clementine can make out the roof of the school, and the peak of the bell tower where she'd arranged to meet Violet this evening.