Re: TWD, Cell: Shane and Clem (+ Graham)
Clementine wasn't a silly thing of a woman to Shane's mind. She came from a different fucking world and he didn't fucking understand her, but he knew she had her head on as right as a Murphy could, and he knew she cared about Graham. He didn't get the dress bullshit. He didn't get how blind she was to other people. But he kind of got where that had all come from. He'd sold to enough rich kids over the last twenty years to learn to see the connections. But that didn't stop the emphasis on my sister. Mine from jarring him. Shane gave Clementine an incredulous look, a mirror of her own from seconds before.
It wasn't fucking about her. It had nothing fucking to do with her outside of the likeness to Lorelei. And Shane didn't fucking care about how it affected her. She wasn't the one who was fucking nuts, or the one who'd been his closest friend for nearly two decades. Whatever slack he cut Graham, he didn't cut her, Southern belle out of her plantation house or whatever the fuck, she was still a goddamn adult.
—But he didn't have time to say that, nope, because then Clementine was going on about how she'd gone to Vegas to prove Graham had gotten her killed, and Shane's jaw snapped shut, click, and he prickled. He fucking bristled. "The fuck did you just say?"