Clemente
It's just another difference that he has to deal with, and while Clemente had sworn years ago to never have kids - a drawn face, shaking hands, distant gaze, the rumble of his own stomach, the ache of loneliness and forced maturity - it's a disappointment that only deepens his frown though he says nothing. Though Rexanna doesn't hesitate to assure him that she will explain everything, Clem's head ducks and his fingers spasm uncertainly around her palm at the word 'home'. There is no such thing. A romanticized notion at best. You are born, you live - in structures, under the sky, beneath the ground, it doesn't matter - and then you die. Home meant connections, relationships, love, and those are just fancy words for garrote wire that forms a noose around your unsuspecting neck. He can feel the cold of it against his skin as she squeezes his hand back, staring down at their joined fingers like they're a death sentence. Bearing witness to his own downfall.
There is nothing but the crunch of their feet upon the snow from that moment. Until manmade light, its glow cast feebly out against the grasping curtain of darkness, catches his gaze and lifts it from his feet. The following announcement doesn't matter much to him, too busy taking in the appearance of the abode she has brought him to. It's far sturdier than he's used to, a house instead of a crumbling apartment complex that checks every violation off like a to-do list. Habitually his eyes glance down the empty street, checking for watchful eyes. But they are the only nocturnal beings this night, and he is not necessarily breaking in. When the door swings wide he steps in slowly, body still tense as he takes in the entryway. Then he turns uselessly towards Rexanna, unsure what to do.
"I can't pay you back for this," Clem finally blurts, panic setting in. People always want something. Always. He could have haggled with her in his homeland, used his meager savings or collected valuables to pay her back for a day of rest. But here he has nothing but his crumbling attire and his foul mouth, and neither of those are useful to her. Rexanna had already denied any interest in his body, and that leaves him at her mercy.
i stopped being a kid the day
you sent me down here to die
