“Claire. Wake up.” She blinked and realized that her head was on Shane’s shoulder, and Michael was nowhere to be seen. Her first thought was, Oh my God, am I drooling? Her second was that she hadn’t realized she was so close to him, snuggled in. Her third was that although Michael’s part of the couch was empty, Shane hadn’t moved away. And he was watching her with warm, friendly eyes. Oh. Oh, wow, that was nice.”
“I think so,” she [Claire] said. “Just watch your back, okay?” “Nah, Michael’s got mine.” He [Shane] looked straight into her eyes.“I’ve got yours.”
“He moved around the wide counter, silent as always. She was sitting on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees, her fist in her mouth to try to quiet her sobs, and he realized he hadn’t actually seen her cry before. [..]She must have felt his eyes on her, for she suddenly swallowed her sob on a choked gasp and looked up at him, her huge, sorrow-filled eyes a sharper pain than the knife slash.He moved slow enough, so as not to spook her, to give her plenty of time to move, but she stayed where she was, her huge eyes looking into his, and she fucking broke his heart, if he still possessed such a useless organ.”
“Oh, hey, Claire,” she said, and blinked. “Where are you going?”“Funeral,” Shane said. On-screen, a zombie shrieked and died gruesomely.“Yeah? Cool! Whose?”“Hers.” Shane said.”
“Shane’s dad stopped the van,” Claire said. “He took Monica as a hostage.”For a second, neither one of them moved, and then Eve whooped and held up her hand for a high five. Claire just stared at her, and Eve compensated by clapping both hands over her head. “Yesssss!” she said, and did a totally geeky victory dance. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer psycho!”“Hey!” Claire yelled, and Eve froze in midcelebration. It was stupid, but Claire was angry; she knew Eve was right, knew she had no reason at all to think Monica was ever going to be anything but a gigantic pain in the ass, but… “Shane’s dad’s going to burn her if they go through with the execution. He has a blowtorch.”The glee dropped out of Eve’s expression. “Oh,” she said. “Well…still. Not like she didn’t ask for it. Karma’s a bitch, and so am I.”
“She shouldn’t have been beautiful—she was too forward, too freckled, too thin. Still… Oh, to hell with it all. He wasn’t hungry, anyway. He reached out and took her hand, drawing her to him. She drifted near, until she was close enough to kiss. Close enough for him to see the green of her eyes, widening as he turned her hand over, palm up.“There’s something I’ve wanted to do since the first moment I saw you,” he said. It came out close to a whisper.“Oh?” He could feel the puff of breath from that word against his nose.“Don’t even think of arguing.”She shook her head. Her lips opened, an impossible, inviting fraction.He set the fork in the palm of her hand and closed his fingers tightly around hers. “I want you to eat,” he said.”