Re: TWD: graham + clem
It was a man's hands that gripped him hard, and Shane recognized them as Graham's without fucking thinking about it. He grit his teeth together, blood and blade, and dragged himself up with the help, spitting the fucking knife to the discolored woodboard floors as soon as he collapsed over the sill. The last fucking thing he needed was some Glasgow grin gaping gory because he fucking tripped with a hunting knife in his mouth. The slaughter stuck to his lips and spread with his grimace as he got to his feet in that fucking room where the door thudded with the sounds of the starving, relentless dead, moans of shuddering air and skin shucking off sloppily against the grain that didn't yet give, though it groaned in complaint.
Shane was breathing hard, eyes bloodshot on Graham and something like a fucking grin there beneath the matted hair.
"About fucking time you showed," he panted, wanting to bend hands to knees to catch his breath, but before he could Clementine came forward. Shane looked at her, at the spit of anger the was as hardcast as bone on her face. He opened his mouth to say something when her fucking hand came the fuck from the side and stung across his filthy cheek with a smack.
Her hand, nails grimy, wiped on Graham's sleeve and Shane fucking rolled his jaw in its socket. He pulled a soggy, bent cigarette from the front pocket of his sodden shirt and he lit it with the sulphur-swipe of a match. One deep breath, his fucking face burning, and he exhaled.
"Fuck you," he told Clementine, filter stained by his fingers. He spat thick blood at her feet and stepped forward just enough to plant a messy, disgusting fucking kiss on her cheek, just to be an ass. He nodded at Graham and swiped at the string of spit that roped dark down his own chin with his sleeve that did nothing but smear the shit into the thin hairs there. "Fuck you too, asshole."