LI | If Only We Had More Time

205 33 21
                                    

⤠ ≻  ◈  ≺ ⤟

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

⤠ ≻ ◈ ≺ ⤟


Clementine watched the snow-covered countryside race past outside as the sun set over the distant mountains. Yesterday felt like a blur; he found himself wondering if it had actually happened—if they had freed Elliot. It was a little strange not hearing his voice or seeing him sitting with Mathew and Mavis at the table beside them. But he was free, and Clementine was content with that fact.

          He yawned quietly, his eyes getting heavier and heavier the longer he tried to keep them open. He'd become so tired that every time he caught himself dozing off and woke, he took a moment to remember that he was on the train back to Aldergrove. And in no more than two days, he'd be hunting the last of the Ravenblood.

          His allies seemed just as fatigued, and a certain sadness lingered in the air. Sebastien was sleeping in the seat across the table from him, Mathew was reading one of his law studies books, and Mavis had started playing cards by herself.

          Clementine sighed quietly, resting his arms on the table. He hadn't had time to find a doctor that might be able to tell him how long he had left, but he was beginning to lean closer to his suggestion that it was probably best he didn't find out.

          As the train jolted and creaked, he set his eyes on Sebastien. Before Elliot had interrupted, Sebastien had told Clementine he needed to tell him something. He hadn't forgotten, and now that they were on their way back, he felt it might be a good time to ask him what he was going to say. But Sebastien was asleep, and when he thought about waking him up, he felt hesitant. They had two more days of their three-day journey ahead of them; should he wait until tomorrow?

          No. He didn't want to wait.

          "Sebastien," he mumbled quietly, nudging his leg under the table with his foot.

          Sebastien murmured irritably.

          "Wake up."

          With an aggravated sigh, Sebastien opened his eyes and glared across the table at him.

          "What were you gonna tell me? Yesterday before Elliot came in to tell us dinner was ready."

          The white-haired kid frowned. "What?"

          "Yesterday...you asked me if I wanted to do anything else before I die, and then you told me that you needed to tell me something and made me promise not to freak out."

          "Did I?" he asked, a confused tone in his voice, but Clementine knew it was fake.

          "Yeah, you did. What did you wanna tell me?"

          He shrugged, shuffling around in his seat. "I don't remember."

          Clementine frowned impatiently. "Why do you complain so much about me lying, but when you do it, it's okay?"

The Atrophy of Clementine DarlingtonWhere stories live. Discover now