𝟐𝟓. training sessions
THE REASON
chapter twenty-five ; training sessions
[ season five – episode fifteen ]
IT HAD ONLY been fifteen minutes since Kloe, Rosita, Michonne, and Sasha returned to Alexandria. Only fifteen minutes and something more went wrong. Not everyone had even been fully awake yet since it was only around seven a.m.
Kloe and Rosita had taken a walk to have some casual talk about normal things. Who was she kidding? Nothing was normal anymore. The thing that cut their conversation short was the sound of glass shattering nearby. Kloe's natural instinct from being out on the road for just over a month kicked in, resulting in her sprinting toward the source of the sound. Rosita followed swiftly.
The moment she sharply turned a corner, she practically skidded across the pavement to come to an immediate stop. There he was — Rick. The man who is intrinsically their leader while on the road. The man who had understood the concept of how the world worked before they ever could. He was stiffly set atop of their one and only professional surgeon, Pete.
Rick's fingers were wrapped tightly around the Anderson man's neck, the skin on his face going a bright pink from the lack of oxygen and blood flow. More people made an appearance. Kloe's head snapped to the side, spotting her brother and sister. She glanced back ahead.
Pete's face consisted of blood — oozing out of small fresh wounds directly caused by Rick. The cuts were made on the bridge of his nose and on his left cheekbone. Kloe jolted back from surprise when Pete managed to clench his fist and strike it across Rick's face, knocking him to the side. The Grimes man, however, managed to not let the punch have any effect on him as he didn't hesitate to punch him back. The man's face sounded a vehement crunch, causing Kloe to grimace as if she could feel the pain.
Jessie let out a sob as she watched the two men fight, her hand going up to her mouth as she desperately prayed for the commotion to end abruptly. The men panted heavily as Rick snaked his hands up to Pete's face and eyes, a snarl escaping his mouth as Pete gravely attempted to strangle Rick.
To Rick's misfortune, Pete had found new strength and vigorously pushed the man off of him. His back bashed against the concrete with a harsh thud as Pete climbed on top of him, copying Rick's actions as he tightened his fingers around his throat.
Having enough, Jessie sobbed one last time before lunging forward. Kloe straightened her stance as she watched the woman set her hands on her husband's shoulders and attempted to pull him off of Rick. She yelled until her throat went raw for him to stop, except it only resulted in Pete backhanding her across the face.
She screamed from shock as she tumbled down onto the floor, grazing her palms. Rosita jumped back from surprise as Kloe dashed forward, her knees slamming onto the ground as she placed her hands on the blond's shoulders as she cried more than before.
Somehow, this action made Rick's eyes fill with nothing but rage. With his new found strength, he swapped their roles as he was now on top of Pete once again. Jessie's cries became muffled as she absentmindedly wrapped her arms around Kloe, digging her head into her shoulder as she squeezed her eyes shut, tears streaming out of them. Kloe comfortingly rubbed her back, her eyes glued on Rick and Pete.
Carl Grimes, who originally stood beside one of the newest members of Alexandria before Rick and his group arrived, Enid, darted forward. He knew his father wasn't going to stop. He'd seen the way his father acted before. And that person was now dead. Shane Walsh.
"Dad, get off!" Carl yelled at the top of his lungs as he clenched his jaw, prying him off of Pete. Kloe had thought that because it was his son desperately trying to get him off, Rick would've thought about what exactly he was doing and what example he was showing to Alexandria of who he was. Kloe's face fell when Rick shoved Carl away.
Jessie lifted her head, making Kloe avert her gaze away from the men and toward her. Jessie shook her head as her face remained scrunched up, more tears falling free. "Make them stop, make them stop, make them stop," her voice shook and cracked, her bottom lip quivering as she didn't even dare to even cast a small glance at them.
Kloe bit down harshly onto her bottom lip, nodding as if to calm down the woman. She pulled the blond back into her arms and rubbed circles onto her back in a comforting manner. Her head whipped over to Rick, who had Pete in a chokehold with a look that not even Kloe recognized anymore. He looked like a monstrous serial killer with the way the blood ran down in his face from his forehead. She gritted her teeth. "Rick, stop!" she hissed loudly at him.
"Shut up!" he bellowed in return, his voice straining tightly from how strong his hold on Pete truly was. That was until Deanna, the leader of the community, stopped in front of them and demanded them to stop with a stern tone. Jessie still cried, but it wasn't as hysterical, and twisted her head to the side to face the Monroe woman.
"Stop it," the woman breathed after sprinting all the way to the scene, "right now." Two pairs of feet skidded across the pavement, the miniature stones crumbling under the force. Kloe heard Jessie's breathing calm down, yet it was still labored from the sheer panic. The Rhee woman stroked her fingers through the woman's light blond hair, using her other hand to rub more circles as she lifted her eyes up to the person who had skidded across the concrete. It was Glenn, a shocked Nicholas beside him.
"You touch them again," Rick growled into Pete's ear, yet because of how unbearably silent it was, everyone heard it, "and I'll kill you." Kloe's face faltered, her eyes instinctively dropping down to Jessie. A sob escaped her lips, resulting in Kloe shushing her in a consoling manner.
Deanna put her foot down. "Damn it, Rick," she fumed, the pure look of anger and disappointment at the Grimes man. "I said stop!"
A man Kloe had never seen before and Nicholas stepped forward in an attempt to grab onto Pete as Rick released the unconscious man. Only to be stopped as their hearts practically skipped several beats. Rick's gun clicked intimidatingly as he aimed it directly at them, "or what?" he glared. Kloe's eyes broadened drastically. What the hell was Rick doing? She lifted her chin to the familiar figure who was her husband that was somewhat covering her from Rick since she was more or less in range of where the gun was pointing. Glenn watched Rick, his own look of shock present in his face. "You gonna kick me out?"
Rick dragged his aim over to Deanna, Reg, and their youngest and now only son, Spencer. The three lifted their hands, their hearts all simultaneously hammering against their ribcage. "Put that gun down, Rick," Deanna instructed in a more calmer tone, not daring to anger the man much more in case he did something as reckless as shooting someone.
The man panted some more, Glenn moving over to the random man and Nicholas, muttering to them to stop. They'd seen something like this before. Back in the prison. When they had first found it, they were dealing with the Governor and his crew. After Lori had died. When Tyreese, Sasha, and their small group of people had first arrived. Rick was dealing with something, and it angered him. That time was grief, but this time? No one had a clue.
"You still don't get it?" Rick tilted his head, dropping his handgun down to his side. "None of you do!" he thundered, pointing to every single Alexandrian that circled him with expanded eyes. "We know what needs to be done and we do it. We're the ones who live," he referred to himself and his group that were out on the road before they had even thought about joining Alexandria. "You," he directed back to the Alexandrians, "you just sit and plan and hesitate." He turned to Deanna as Kloe helped Jessie to her feet, now slightly more calmed down that the fight had ended, "you pretend like you know when you don't! You wish things weren't what they are. Well, you want to live. You want this place to stay standing. Your way of doing things is done." Something in Deanna's face shifted as she narrowed her eyes. "Things don't get better because you— you want them to. Starting right now, we have to live in the real world. We have to control who lives here," he gestured to the unconscious Pete on the ground.
"That's never been more clear to me than it is right now."
Rick's eyes locked on Deanna. "Me? Me? You—" he scoffed, a pathetic smile escaping onto his lips as he laughed. "You mean— you mean me?" Rick's false smile faded away. "Your way is gonna destroy this place. It's gonna get people killed. It's already gotten people killed. And I'm not gonna stand by and just let it happen. If you don't fight, you die. I'm not gonna stand by and—!"
A harsh, crunching thud pierced through the air, a rather loud grunt coming from Rick as he limply fell onto the ground like a ragdoll. Michonne Hawthorne, who had her uniform clad onto her, stood over him with a stern look on her expression. She crouched down, picking up the man's handgun he was using to threaten the people. She breathed heavily as she looked down at the unconscious man disappointedly.
Another man arrived at the scene, his eyes instantly widening upon noticing the two men on the ground. Kloe's head twisted to face him, a perplexed but stunned look on his face. Jayce edged closer to Kloe's side, his lips parting. "What the hell happened?" he whispered, his eyes trained on whatever the hell was going on in front of him.
"I have no fucking idea."
...
"Still can't believe you of all people wanted to be my first trainee," Kloe smiled, her dark eyes set on the young teenage boy in front of her. The boy set his bark brown sheriff hat that was gradually wearing away from the use down on the couch that he and Kloe had moved to produce room in one of the houses that they were given. He had shrugged off his coat, preparing himself for the training he had asked Kloe for only thirty minutes prior.
The whole situation with Rick and Pete earlier that morning had silenced the community. It was now late afternoon. Everyone was in a great deal of fright and avoided anyone that had been associated with Rick before they joined the community. Kloe couldn't blame any of them, but she tried her hardest to tell some of them that Rick was only defending someone and only spoke of the truth — but of course, that's not exactly what the people of Alexandria wanted to hear.
A small smile expressed on Carl Grimes' lips. "First of all, I don't even think anyone else wants to be around you or any of us right now, and second of all, I'm the only one in our group that isn't a hundred percent with the whole defense thing," he explained, looking up at the woman. "Besides, you don't have to treat me like a little kid anymore. I'm older now — I need to learn this stuff."
Kloe exhaled heavily, the same smile Carl had spreading to hers. "Yes, yes, I know. But you are only fourteen," she reminded, pointing directly toward him with raised brows as Carl stopped in front of her. Seeing him without the hat was almost foreign to her — he had been wearing it everyday since the moment Rick had given it to him since the farm.
"Fourteen or not," Carl shrugged, "something bad could still happen."
Her smile fell moderately, a sinking feeling in her stomach. She blinked as she raised her hand and ruffled it through Carl's mop of hair. He chuckled, backing away to get away from the woman's hand like she was some annoying big sister that adored her little brother. "Kloe," he groaned, yet his smile never left his face as he swatted away her hand.
She snorted, shaking her head to herself. "Alright, Grimes. Get your butt in gear. The first thing I've gotta teach you is all the basic shit before we jump straight to the expert shit," she specified. An idea pinged into her mind. "Oh, hey, in the top drawer in the kitchen beside the oven is a notepad and pen. Could you get it for me, please?"
Carl nodded, spinning on his heel and walked over to the kitchen. He wrapped his fingers around the handle as he pulled it open, the top few things being a few black pens and a notepad with yellow paper. He picked them up, pushing the drawer shut as he jogged back over to the lounge. "Here," he said, handing over the two objects. He earnt a 'thank you' in return.
She flipped open the cover, being met with a clean page. She pressed down on the pen, a click sounding from it. "Okay, so... Comic-Nerd Training Sessions..." she read aloud as she wrote the words down, "Basic shit." Carl peered over the woman's shoulder, watching her write down the words. She wrote a list with bullet points. "I'll list all the primary moves, and you can pick one every time we do a lesson, yeah?" Carl beamed and nodded. "Alright."
She jotted down all the moves she knew, sticking out her tongue as she scribbled down hastily. When she finished, she smiled triumphantly at her list as she handed over the notepad and pen to the teenager.
He glanced at her for a moment before taking them out of her grasp, his eyes scanning the words. "Defeat a Front Kick, Side Kick, Defense Kick Forward, Defense Kick to the Rear, Outside Defense against a Kick, Inside Defense against a Kick, Heel of the Hand Strike, Hammer Blow," he listed, often snorting at some of the names. "What the hell is a Hammer Blow?" he chuckled, looking up to the side at Kloe for an answer.
Kloe rested her arm on Carl's shoulder with a wide grin on her face. She pointed at the two words on the paper. "Wanna cross it off and find out?" she suggested, resulting in Carl scribbling out the two words with a laugh. He set down the objects on the couch beside his hat, watching as Kloe stood in the center of the room.
She positioned herself in a stance. "You know what stance you have to take. I've seen you do it." Carl nodded. "So, the Hammer Blow could be struck upwards—" she did a demonstration, "or downwards," and another. "You only do a Hammer Blow in a situation where somebody has already been hit, and bent over. Alright, come over here," she instructed, gesturing to her side. He acknowledged by joining her. "Put your right foot forward. This is the opposite stance you wanna be in when you strike at someone, but like I said, the culprit has already been hit and would be more ideal for a Hammer Blow."
Kloe lifted up her right hand and tensed her muscles, motioning to the boy beside her to copy her actions.
"The asshole has gotta be around this height," she lowered her hands halfway down her body, "so around four-foot or something. They've also gotta be around this far away from you. You wanna be close to them, but not too close. Common sense, really. Be close enough to get a hit on them."
"Mm-hmm," Carl hummed, understanding everything the woman was telling him. "So, technically make sure he's kneeled over with pain." Kloe bopped her head.
"Okay," with her left hand, she pointed to her right arm, "your right hand's gonna come up so your arm is barely touching the top of your forehead." Carl did as he was told and lifted his right arm. He raised it just above his forehead, his arm going across it. "Good! Okay, now climb to the ball of your feet so you're applying your weight entirely on them," she directed, Carl's eyes trained on her sharply to capture every movement. He did what she said, losing his balance slightly. "Gotta work on that balance, kiddo," Kloe winked, to which he playfully rolled his eyes and postured himself correctly.
"I know how to keep my balance, Klo. I won against Michonne on the tracks when we were on the way to Terminus," he informed victoriously. "I won a candy bar — Big Cat."
"Man, I have not had one of those in a long, long time," Kloe cooed, her mouth watering at the thought of the chocolate. "Ugh, let's stop talking about chocolate. It's making me hungry."
Carl flashed a smile. "They're not all that. It tasted like regular chocolate."
"Define regular chocolate, Grimes," Kloe teasingly glared, only to laugh and shake her head. "We're getting distracted. We can get chocolate after if you succeed in this session."
"Deal."
...
Reina licked the tip of her finger as she swiped through the pages of the dictionary she had found in one of the elderly people's houses. Jayce sat beside her, often bringing up his metal spoon to his mouth and slurping the vegetable soup that sat at the bottom of his bowl. Maggie was beside him, licking some excess of the food off her lips.
Kloe was opposite Reina at the dinner table, staring at her food. She had taken only a few bites and slurps of the soup and mozzarella sticks on the side. It was a weird combo, but when Carol had asked her what she wanted to have, it was the thing she craved.
The Salazar woman clicked her tongue, underlining a word she had found in the dictionary. "Ah! Here's a word for you," she wet her lips with her tongue as she looked closer at the word and mouthed it. She looked up at the Rhee woman. "Fraise." Kloe snorted. "What? Oh no, did I say it wrong again?" Reina sighed, dropping her hands against the table.
"Pretty sure French words aren't supposed to be said in an American accent, Rei," Jayce suggested, shooting the woman a glance as he brought his spoon to his mouth. "You gotta say 'em in the Français accent, Madam Salazar."
Reina whacked the man's shoulder with the back of her hand. "Alright, Mr. Know-it-all. How about you look through it and try to pronounce them. I did Spanish in school, not French, estúpida," she rolled her eyes, a small grin on her lips when Jayce playfully set his hand on his chest like he had taken Reina's words personally. "Besides, deja de sorber tu comida."
Jayce's eyes shot over to Kloe, who evidently shrugged, only knowing French. He faced Maggie, to which she just shook her head cluelessly with a rather large smile. He slowly turned his head back to Reina. "Whatever you just said," he jabbed his finger at her as his other hand picked up his spoon, "take it back," and slurped.
Reina laughed.
"Uhm, anyway," Kloe straightened her back and cleared her throat. "Fraise is strawberry." Reina slammed the French dictionary shut. "You're giving me these words with a language I'm fluent with. Unfortunately for you, I'm pretty sure I know every word that's in that," she pointed at the book.
"It's a bundle of crap anyway — unless any of you plan on heading to France anytime soon, it's going back to the McMiller's," Reina informed as she set the book down beside her chair.
"How about..." Kloe pondered, catching the other three's attention, "I give you all a word that you have to work out together?" She smiled as she tilted her head, watching Reina, Jayce, and Maggie all gazed at each other before turning back and simultaneously nodding. "Okay, so your word is... manchote."
The three all just blinked, resulting in Reina placing her dictionary back on the table and shoved it along so the three all had the chance to look. Kloe chuckled, leaning back in her seat as she picked up another mozzarella stick and took a bite of it. Jayce and Reina both fought like siblings on who should flick through the pages. Maggie just rested her chin on Jayce's shoulder while she read the French words on the pages.
While Kloe waited, she glanced around the room, seeing how dark and empty it truly was except for the lamp beside the table that granted them the ability to see while they ate. Everyone else had been busy and didn't have the time to sit and eat. If they had eaten already, it would've been a few hours before eight p.m.
Kloe had invited both Rosita and Isabelle to come eat with them, considering they hadn't found the time to do anything that wasn't being by Tara's side in case something went wrong — especially since Pete was now in need of aid, alongside Rick. Neither of them had woken up yet, and it had been over twelve hours.
Her smile of amusement dropped ever so slightly when she thought of Glenn. She hadn't seen him since the morning when he protected her and Jessie from Rick's aim of sight. Ever since then, she hadn't even laid her eyes on him. It was abnormal to not see him, and the more she thought about it, the more confused she got.
Her eyes unfocused as she grew deeper into the thoughts that lingered in her mind. After the training session with Carl — which only took around an hour and a half for him to get the hang of it — Kloe kept her deal and walked to the pantry with him and got some candy bars. They sat on the porch steps and spoke about all sorts of things, and if she was being honest, it was the most she had spoken to him in a while.
She enjoyed having conversations with people she'd known for a while. It was like a catch up since they were always busy.
She almost jumped out of her skin when the dictionary in front of Reina, Jayce, and Maggie slammed shut. Reina's hand was on top of it, signifying that she was the one that shut it forcefully. "Penguin you smart son of a bitch," she stated triumphantly, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back proudly. Jayce smiled widely while Maggie snorted, resting her head on his shoulder.
Kloe clapped her hands. "Congrats. Sadly, I don't have any prizes to give you all. Sorry." Reina's face fell, muttering an 'are you kidding me' as Kloe pushed her chair back. A loud scraping noise sounded from the wooden feet scraping against the laminate flooring, rising to her feet. "Anyway, I've just realized I haven't seen Glenn for most of the day, so I'mma go look for him, 'kay?" she told them, earning an 'okay' from the rest of them.
As she walked over to the front door, the quiet roads that were lit up from the street lamps made it seem even more deserted. She unhooked her jacket from the coat rack before she left, wrapping it over her shoulders since she knew she was going to be met with cold air since it was still early March.
She twisted the door knob, a light breeze that sent shivers down her spine hit her in the face. She stepped outside, the air traveling to her lungs smoothly like velvet. She relaxed, watching the vapor fly out of her mouth when she exhaled and dissolved into the air. Her breath was shaky, squeezing herself with her arms to provide more body warmth, yet it seemed useless. It didn't help that she had her hair tied up, exposing the skin of her neck. The thin hairs on the back of her neck lifted, creating goosebumps which immediately made her want to turn around and step back inside the house.
But she wanted to find Glenn — she was worried.
She searched everywhere for him, being without a flashlight making it more difficult. After twenty minutes, she finally found him. There he was, sitting all alone. He was by the small lake that they used for consumption, as well as cleaning etc. He was sitting with his back against a tree, a small pile of pebbles beside him that he skipped into the water.
Kloe frowned. She stepped forward, her boots forming footsteps through the freshly trimmed grass. The swishing sound caught the man's attention, his neck craning to the side. Glenn watched her for a few seconds, not saying anything as he turned back ahead and picked up another stone, skipping it into the water. Something was definitely wrong — Kloe may have sometimes been an overthinker, but Glenn's social self not saying hi? Something was wrong.
"You okay?" she wondered, the look of concern present on her — which Glenn didn't even realize considering he didn't look at her. She sat onto the grass beside him, her eyes trained on the side of his face. He quietly hummed in return as he picked up yet another stone. She swallowed thickly, the tension not being something she was used to.
She knew he was dealing with everything about what had happened with Noah, and how much he had to hold back the urge to strangle Nicholas to death because of it. But aside from their small chatter during the early hours, neither had said a word to each other.
She sucked in a deep breath, positioning her hand on his shoulder which his long, fabric, black coat covered. "Why don't you come inside? It's freezing out here," she advised, rubbing circles on his shoulder in hope to relax the stiffness. It didn't work. He remained tense, and it confused her greatly. Unlike normal, she couldn't see through his facade. "Hey, are you sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine, Kloe," he spoke raspily, a tinge of anger laced in his tone but it wasn't enough to sound like he directed it to her. He ran his fingers through his hair before reaching down for, once again, another pebble. Kloe's hand froze, no longer rubbing comforting circles on his shoulder. She retracted her hand, returning to folding them across her chest as she somewhat shivered.
She kept her eyes on him, however. She knew what he was going through — Noah was the first person Glenn had gotten close to that had quite precisely been ripped away from him. She knew he had been traumatized by it, she didn't expect him not to be. But for him to be, what she assumed, fine one minute, then not the next? She wanted him to be truthful with her.
Unlike normal, the stillness of sound in the air that included the rustles of trees; bugs buzzing in the long grass and marshes surrounding the small lake wasn't comfortable. The ripples of the water were visible from the lights coming through windows of people's houses, flowing north of where Glenn and Kloe were sitting.
If things were like normal — whatever that was — Kloe wouldn't have thought twice to rest on Glenn's shoulder and close her eyes to take it all in and relax. But alas, something was wrong with Glenn, which made something wrong with Kloe. The silence lasted another fifteen seconds, which was more than enough for Kloe to speak up more.
She inhaled more of the frigid air, feeling the coolness enter her lungs. "It's okay," she muttered, loud enough for the man to hear. Regardless, it was as if he never heard her. She blinked and pursed her lips as he picked up another goddamn pebble. She watched it skip far across the water, going far which proved to her that he was doing it with a lot of strength. She spoke again. "It's okay to feel like this."
"What?" he twisted his head to the side and genuinely looked at her. Kloe's heart sank at his tone, his expression, and the way he looked at her. She swallowed, her brows furrowing with even more perplexion than before.
"I said that it's okay to feel like this," she repeated.
His face scrunched up as he broke his gaze away from her and back toward the lake. "No. No, it's not. None of this is okay," he stated in a low tone, disagreeing with her. "No part of this is okay. None of it—" he cut himself short, rising to his feet to walk away. Kloe stayed put, in a mixture of shock and bewilderment. Glenn froze in his spot and stopped walking, resulting in Kloe staring at the back of his head. He turned back around to face her, a pure look of anger on his face. "Why do you do that?"
"What?" she asked, her heart now picking up its pace as she knew exactly what was coming. God, she always hated that feeling. Although this time, it was different. She knew this feeling — she was familiar with it from the prison after they were both kidnapped by Merle.
"Why do you do that?" he repeated. "You tell me this is all okay? How? How is any of this okay? Noah died yesterday, and not because of walkers or anything like that, but a person. A singular man who is selfish, cowardice... a reprobate..." he trailed off, his voice cracking as the bleakness showed. "You're telling me all of that is okay?"
Kloe's lips parted as she shook her head vigorously. "What? No, I didn't mean it like that, Glenn—"
"What Rick did this morning, he shouldn't have done it," he said. "But he was right. The way they do things here gets people killed. Noah's gone, and it's all because of the 'Alexandria system'. This place is supposed to be safe, and most of the people here have been here since everything started and none of them have figured out that it's not safe. What does that make them look like—?"
"I know, Glenn," Kloe interrupted, standing up from the ground as she looked across at the angered man. "I know where you're coming from. But all I was trying to say was that it's okay to grieve—"
"It's not okay because I shouldn't be grieving in the first place!" he raised his voice. "Noah should still be here. Right now, he's supposed to be here, sitting around the table eating food with us. He should be playing Uno with you and the others. You and him should be talking more about movies."
Kloe's lips glued shut as her heart sank into the deepest depths of her stomach. A lump formed in her throat, her nose burning from the incoming tears that threatened to fill her eyes. "I know, Glenn. You're not the only one that's wanted to beat Nicholas' face into mush— Anyway, where is all of this coming from? You were alright with me telling you it was okay last night, what's different now?"
"I've thought about it more, all day. The more I think about it, the more it angers me that Noah died in such a pathetic way with no meaning. You telling me it's okay to feel like this makes it worse. You're making it worse."
Kloe had no words. Her brows were deep, almost connecting. Her lips were parted again, and the sadness was now replaced with the same anger that Glenn had. "Do not put the blame on me."
Glenn frustratingly clapped his hands together and pushed them against his face, taking a deep breath before he lashed out. "You're not understanding me—"
She scoffed. "Not understanding you? Are you fucking kidding me? I've been through this shit, Glenn. Sophia, Nicole, Jack, Vickie," she listed with her fingers, leaning forward slightly with spite. She wasn't fond of the version of her husband she was seeing standing in front of her at this moment in time. "Yeah, nah, I don't understand you."
"Don't do that," Glenn shook his head, shooting her a glare.
"Do what?" Kloe questioned purely out of wonder. "All I did was try to comfort you, and you find a way to throw it back at me, make me feel like shit which I've worked hard not to feel like today, and you blame me for something that's your problem. If you're so, so, super angry, then take it out on someone like Nicholas. Or, better yet, take it out on Madolyn since she's the reason my hand feels like it's going to explode any fucking moment now."
Glenn clenched his jaw, only to then take another deep breath and shake his head. "Just— just give me some space, Kloe. I think I have to work this out on my own."
And like that, he walked away from her.
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words: 5555
11th october 2023
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IM SO SAD.
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