⁷⁴and comes frozen is the time

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luke

"Just a second, I'll be back,"

Silence. Nothing but.

It floods into the room the second Clem steps out, the beeping of the heart monitor a few feet away, surrounding me in a menacing air of intimidation like dried concrete on my skin.

All I can do is stare at her father's vegetable state, still, his chest slightly heaving, though easily mistaken for — nevermind. I shouldn't think like that.

I pry my eyes away and to the dark brown bubbles of Clem's coffee. Even from my stance, I can smell the bitterness of it, how dark and pure it is. I never understood how she could tolerate something so bitter.

"Thank you for coming with Clementine, Luke," Marlowe speaks, taking me out of my dreary head. It's most noticeable that she doesn't look as lively as she normally does. Unbrushed hair, drooped eyes, and stiff brows make me assume she hasn't left this room in some time. "You did not have to,"

She sounds different as well. Maybe it's the accent that's starting to show or the vocal-fry. Would it be too invasive to give her a hug? She seems to look like she needs it.

I nod at her statement, looking down at my shoes and recalling Clem's similar hesitance earlier. I don't have to, but I want to.

I let a few beats pass, wondering if it's the right thing to say. "I... I didn't want her to be alone," I admit, though wanting to start the sentence with another intention.

She squints at me, as though picking out something from me, before letting her eyes fall to her coffee. "But she's not alone here,"

"I know. But you know what I mean,"

I see a small smile quirk on her lips before she nods, a sigh resulting after a minute of silence. Her hands are fiddling with the cup and I begin to stare at it as well.

"Comment est ton Français?" She suddenly asks, and my eyes widen in surprise.

She lets me take a few seconds to fully gather what she's said, processing each word as what they mean individually before pairing them up to make some sense into the sentence.

I give an uneasy laugh before shrugging. "Niveau... niveau débutant, sans doute," I reply, stumbling over the throaty sounds, my lack of confidence showing through obviously.

A bright laugh makes of her, and I realise how similar Clem's laugh is. It only makes me smile bigger like the idiot I am.

"Good, yes. Your accent is getting better," She points at me and nods. "Very bad, still, but it is better,"

Aw, man.

"How is she? At LA?" She looks up at me, her lips slightly upturned, a smile I've seen on Clem a million times. It's the same tired smile she gives when she's finished with a painting, the kind that shows when she sees me right after waking up. "Is she happy?"

I don't know. I could never know, only try my best to help her be so. "Yeah. I think so," To ease her. Maybe "I don't know" isn't what she needs right now.

She nods then looks back down, fiddling with the two rings on her rings finger. "Here," She slides one of the rings off her finger and reaches for my free hand, resting the cold ring on my warm palm. "Keep this for me, yes?"

She pats the back of my hand as she closes my fingers on the ring, and when I open it, I stare at its elegance, silhouettes of leaves engraved on the band, smalls crusts of diamonds displayed as though they were white roses between the leaves.

My heart pauses as well as my breath, caught in the moment of the ring's surprise.

When I look back at her, she gives me a smile, approval for some future question now given to me. "Marlowe..."

"I trust you," Is all she says, though cutting me off, giving me a doe-eyed stare with a tinge of sorrow in her eyes. If I stare long enough, I can see Clem through them, just her pools of honey eyes when under the sun.

"Okay,"

"Half the stalls' toilets are broken," Clem's voice emerges from outside as she opens the door, letting herself in with her hair tied better, her eyes less flush than when she went out. "And only two had tissue rolls," She huffs out and pushes her sleeves to her elbows.

I jerk for a second, quickly motioning to stash the ring in my pocket. "Here's your coffee," I present her cup back to her and she nods, taking it.

"Are you planning to stay?" Marlowe asks, making Clem glance at her dad, brows creasing for a moment, a painful expression flashing through her eyes.

She sighs. "Um... no," She finally answers, looking down as though the answer's to be shamed on. "I wanna go home, see Ev, Maddie... Ollie," Her eyes draw towards me and I give her a nod. I don't really know what else to say, to be honest.

"Alright, then," Marlowe stands to give Clem a hug, a kiss on her cheek, before she turns to me and pats my arm, offering a slight smile. "Tomorrow, I have some papers to grade, and I have to file a week's leave. Can you come and just keep your dad company?"

Clem gives nothing but a heavy sigh, nodding once again, eyes falling.

My chest tightens, imagining what the strain on her shoulders from her point of view must be. If I could take it off her hands, I would.

I watch as she approaches her dad, light fingers caressing the bed sheets. She leans down, presses a soft though hesitant kiss on his head, and stares at the machines by his side.

They give no solace despite their work, and I see Clem's frame stiffen at them.

"We'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" She says, her voice cracking. She makes her way to my side and wraps an arm around my torso, giving Marlowe's cheek a kiss before returning her gaze to her dad.

Her hand clenches on my sweatshirt, taking a step closer to me despite the space around us.

"Stay safe," I bid Marlowe a wave as I lead Clem out the room. "Your home?" I ask as I close the door, finally able to steal her hurt glance away.

She stays silent, nodding.

"Okay," I rest my arm around her shoulders and keep her by my side as we head to the elevators, her warmth distracting me from the hospital's grey.

I haven't been like this before. I don't know what to say, what to do, and the best I can think of is to hold Clem closer to me, whether it's for my or her comfort.

We watch as the elevator slowly descends, the silence in the hall echoing. So I pull her in front of me and press a kiss on her head, a gesture in which her shoulders relax to, her fingers intertwining with mine as she leans to give the top of my hand a delicate kiss.

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