“Clark I-I must tell you something.”
In the background, the fire in the hearth crackled and popped. Lewis held a stubborn expression, despite his chin quivering with what-fear, anticipation?- Clark couldn’t guess. It was just days before his departure to publish the journals of their journey and he had called upon him for a meeting at a discrete Inn. He had not made his reasons clear and chose to keep his dear friend in the dark. For his own sanity. To Clark, Lewis looked astoundingly worse than when they had last met, several months ago. His drunken rampages had started to be the talk of the town and he had had enough of it and went to talk some sense into his wayward friend. He had never seen his friend so angered and even now he shuddered at the vulgar words that were exchanged that somber day. Right now, Lewis was gaunt, his cheeks hollow and his petticoat somewhat loose on his now lanky frame.
“That came wait.” Clark said thin lipped. “Have you been eating?”
Lewis barked out a bitter laugh.
“I eat enough to survive and even then it’s too much.”
Lewis looked down towards the boarded floor to shield himself from the hurt on Clark’s face.
“Please old friend,” He begged quietly.
“Do not say such things. You have worried me greatly. You know I only look out for your best interest.”
There was an unearthly pause in conversation. Each staring each other down to get him to talk. Each wanting the other to say how they felt. Clark was the first to crack.
“Please, tell me what is ailing you so I can aid you. It pains me to see you waisting away.”
Lewis would not speak.
“What are your feelings for me William?”
Clark was taken at back and stammered out the beginning his answer.
“W-why you are a-a very close friend of mine Lewis. I care for you very deeply.”
Meriwhether walked closer to him and looked up into his eyes. They were chest to chest. Clark could feel both his and Lewis’s heart beating close in time. The throbbing rang loudly in his ears. The fire was dying out and the shadows around them darkened. With the remaining light of the fire, Clark could see that despite his sickly complexion Lewis a handsome man. Gorgeous, comparable to that of a crushed rose. Lewis held his breath as Clark brought his hand up to caress his cheek. He closed his eyes in ecstasy, happiness radiating from his being. He knew these hands. They were rough from their long journey and yet still held softness from his pampered upbringing. They had pulled him to safety in times of danger and hand punched him for being too stubborn. Now, they touched him with love. Then, they were gone. A mere dream that Lewis fought to grab ahold of while he tumbled down into the cold depths of reality. Quiet plagued them again, a constant ghostly companion.
“Clark, please tell me what you really feel. Please!” He was pathetic. Being reduced down to begging. However, the time for shame was over. The time for truth was now.
“I-I can’t Lewis. Julia…” William broke off, looking everywhere except at his friend.
Lewis had been prepared for rejection but this…this was worse. Clark had feelings for him but, he decided to hold back for that wrench! Lewis placed a clenched fist over his heart. It beat steadily. He wondered how when he felt so broken inside. He could no longer stand to look at Clark. That dark, warm gaze now mocked him with what he couldn’t have- and what belong to someone else. Summoning up every inch of his pride, he quickly collected his things and headed towards the door.
“Lewis wait,” Clark grabbed his forearm. “When can I see you again?”
Lewis gently wrenched his arm away.
“This, this might be our last meeting.”
Clark’s eyes widened as the door slammed shut, the wind blowing out the remaining embers of the fire.
But he was gone. Clark was left alone in the cold dark room.
“Clark I-I must tell you something.”
It’s William Clark’s birthday; I had to do something.
Unfortunately, I really hate the pacing of this, but whatev.
Again, picks up from basically the last part and, again, is way too damn long.
Happy Birthday, Billy.
Here is the second part. (Sorry there’s no page break, I can’t freaking figure out how to make it work…..)
A large fire cast a dancing glow across the entirety of the camp. The group had grown to be quite adept at fashioning makeshift lodgings, and the small hut-like…
AUGUST - 1805
The Corps trudged along steadily and as quickly as their large load of supplies and boats would allow. All was silent among the men, save for a few muffled coughs now and again and the light rushing of wind past their ears. Captain William Clark was at the head of the group,…
I mean, really, Lewis. Really?!
The bad thing is, I come off of writing something like this and I’m not really mad at Lewis, who I should be mad at. Instead I’m still pissed at Clark.
Lewis/Clark, historical slash wtf, caution advised but not explicit.