Disclaimer: The Loud House and associated characters belong to Nickelodeon and Chris Savino.

When Love Speaks

By Lola Presents

Chapter 1

Lola sat upon her chair, unmoving and staring into the mirror before her. All manner of cosmetics and hair care implements cluttered the small vanity. The time spent there was her refuge. An escape, if you will, from the drudgery of everyday life. It even silenced the rigors of pageantry itself. Her parents were consistently working or tending to her siblings. Pageants were a conduit for much-needed attention and a sense of accomplishment.

Lincoln was busy preparing her for the "Little Miss Royal Woods 2026" pageant and was attempting to concentrate on his work. A light spray here, another curl there, and his sister was nearly ready. He could hear her calling out instructions, but over the years, he'd learned to tune her out. Lola always knew what she wanted, but only he knew what she needed. In the end, she routinely thanked him. Yet, she never stopped trying to influence his work.

Lola looked at Lincoln's reflection in the mirror as he performed his magic upon her, and wondered why he continued to subject himself to catering to her. Surely, he wanted to be elsewhere, with other people, doing the things he liked. Instead, he insisted on assisting her, not that she minded. Having him around had become so commonplace that she couldn't imagine doing pageants without him.

Completing his work, Lincoln stood back and examined the product. He viewed Lola from several angles, once reaching out and adjusting the position of her head. With a nod of approval, Lincoln turned from her and began packing things into a small brown suitcase. "You're ready for the award ceremony, Lola," he said.

Lola gazed at herself in the mirror, genuinely stunned at what her brother had done to her. Her gaze then shifted to the young man packing their things. How many times had they been through this performance? Still, he was there for her. She couldn't help but consider how wonderful he'd been to her over the years. All the fighting and bribery, her pushiness, and brat-like behavior never deterred him. With a barely detectable smile on her lips, she let out a deep sigh.

"Don't worry, Lola," Lincoln said, anticipating hesitancy from his sister, "you'll place. Trust me." Lola had a habit of second-guessing herself before every pageant, especially before awards got handed out. It was no surprise to him, then, that she seemed distracted.

"It's not that, Lincoln," she replied before standing and interrupting his packing. Laying one hand on his arm, she turned him to face her. "I want to say thank you for everything you've done for me, not only for today but also for everything since I was six."

Lola was now twelve and beginning to tire of the pageant scene, and she knew well that Lincoln felt the same. "You've been fantastic. I couldn't have asked for a better coach and stylist."

Lola swallowed hard, preparing for what was to come. Lincoln had been her constant companion for six years, and if truth be told, she didn't want it to end. She had grown accustomed to his presence. No, it was more than that. She required it. "But, after tonight, you're free to do as you please," she said with a hint of regret.

"Lola, what are you talking about?" asked Lincoln, very concerned. The look on his sister's face betrayed how fragile she was. The others may not see it, but he'd spent enough time around her to know the truth. Lola's bratty ways were all an act, designed to attract attention. He knew that deep down, she was insecure and self-doubting.

"Lincoln," Lola said, staring into his eyes. "You knew this day would come. I'm aging out in a week, and I don't have the desire to compete at the teen level." She waited for the impact of what she'd said to settle on her brother's face before gathering him into a tight hug. "Besides, you're graduating soon, and I don't want to hold you back."

Just then, a woman called from several yards away. "Curtain call, ladies!"

Lola parted from her brother and made her way to the line, forming by the entrance to the stage. Looking back for a moment, she smiled and waved at Lincoln. Soon, the curtain parted, and music blared, then Lola was gone.

Lincoln sat in the chair his sister had recently occupied and lost himself in thought. What else could he do? Watching the awards ceremony seemed like back luck to him, and with the news just delivered, didn't want to compromise her chances.

He'd spent so much time and effort into her that he had no clue what he would do without her. He certainly didn't have a life-plan. Hell, he hadn't even thought of college, despite his parent's best efforts at prodding him. Between school, his measly job at the comics and collectibles store, and the pageants, he barely had any time to think.

From beyond the veil, the crowd suddenly erupted into applause, and Lincoln wondered who had gotten the second runner-up award. It didn't matter now, though. If she was quitting, what difference would it make?

The memories they'd made together began flashing through his mind like a carousel out of control. As they spun, his ducts began welling up. He was going to miss times like this. He loved his sister dearly, and he couldn't fathom doing anything without her.

"Nothing..." Lincoln said out loud, picking up the last of the rouge and gazing upon it. Staring at the small glass container, he could almost see Lola's reflection. He rubbed his fingers along the breadth of it and finally tossed it into the open case.

The audience began cheering once more, but Lincoln was too lost in his emotions presently to recognize that somebody had just won the tiara. They always announced the second runner-up first, then the overall winner, and ended with the first runner-up. He had no idea why they did it that way. They just did.

Wiping his face clean, he stood and waited for Lola to emerge from the stage. Soon, the curtain parted, and the entourage filed back into the staging area, Lola among them. She was smiling, that much was certain. However, she didn't bear the usual giddiness of a win. Lincoln's heart sank. He wanted her final performance to be a jaw-dropper. To think she ended on a sour note left a queasy feeling in his stomach.

As the crowd thinned, and Lola approached, she withdrew a tiara from behind her. "Surprise!" she announced, throwing her arms around her brother. "I won! I, WE did it!" Her exuberance only lasted a moment, however. She knew her brother well enough to understand that something was bothering him. "What's the matter, Lincoln?" she asked, pulling herself back enough to look at him.

"Lola," whispered Lincoln, unsure of what was going to come out of his mouth. "We need to talk," he announced, looking downward.

Lola placed the tiara on the now vacant vanity and tilted his head up to meet hers. "Well, why don't we talk about whatever is bothering you while we celebrate. How about you drive us to Gus's?"

"Yeah, sure," sighed Lincoln, grabbing the suitcase and fishing his keys from his pocket. As they left the building, his heart raced. How would he ever tell his sister what he wanted to say to her? How would she react? Hell, he wasn't even sure he knew how he felt. He'd always admired her and thought she was smart and pretty, but it was only recently, when faced with separation, that he began to understand what developed. He didn't just want her in his life; he required it.

The ride to Gus' Games and Grub was no less bothersome. He knew full well that some things just aren't done, and not merely due to being family. He was seventeen, nearing eighteen, and she twelve. That alone should have quelled his feelings. Yet, they remained, strong and foremost in his heart. He couldn't help how he felt, or could he? Was such a pure and honest love such a bad thing? He had no desire to hurt Lola, physically or emotionally, and considered that telling her may do just that. Then again, it may not.

Lola struggled at remaining silent. Her glee at having won her last pageant coursed through her, intermingled with concern for Lincoln. His mood wasn't what she would expect from a win this important. But winning didn't matter now. Her brother was troubled, and that took precedence. Her heart waned inside her, and a sense of sadness filled her. She began to wonder if Lincoln would be alright without her, and the thought made her chest sting in pain.

Arriving at the establishment, Lincoln exited his car and walked around it to let Lola out. He forced a somewhat genuine smile onto his face as he opened the door and extended his hand. "Madam?" he said. Lola feigned a smile herself and took his hand, leaving the vehicle. Together, they walked toward the door, side by side, when Lola felt Lincoln take her hand. The feel of his touch sent shivers down her spine, and she nearly shuddered. She momentarily closed her eyes and let Lincoln lead the way through the door.

Sidling up to the counter, Lincoln promptly ordered a milkshake, a foot-long chili dog, and some french fries, then stepped aside so Lola could order. She considered the menu for a moment before deciding. "I'll have what he's having," she declared.

"Lola!" gasped Lincoln, shocked. It wasn't like her to eat unhealthy food, considering her line of work. "Are you sure?"

"What?" asked Lola. "It's not like I have to worry about my figure anymore. Besides, that's what I have you for," she said playfully, bumping his hip with hers.

Once they'd received their orders, Lincoln paid for it, despite Lola's insistence that she should do it as a reward for all Lincoln had done. However, Lincoln wasn't going to have any such thing happen. Instead, he handed over a twenty. After accepting the change, the two sat in the first unoccupied booth they found.

Lola considered her brother as they placed their food down and began eating. She took a long sip on her milkshake before speaking. "So, what's on your mind, Lincoln?"

"Well," he said, finishing some fries he'd shoved in his mouth, hoping to delay things. "I don't want you to quit doing what you love," he admitted. "I know how much it means to you."

"Might I remind you, dear brother, that I cannot do it alone," Lola responded. "You know that. And what about you? Don't you want to become a cartoonist or comic artist one day?"

Lincoln shrugged. It was true, though. He had wanted it since he was little. The problem is, he wasn't little any longer, and his dream had changed. "Maybe. I don't know."

"Well, what are your dreams?" implored Lola as he took a large bite from her chili dog. A small dollop of chili spilled onto her chin.

Lincoln grabbed his napkin, and reaching over the table, wiped her face clean. Smiling nervously, he swallowed his fears and said, "You're my dream, Lola."

Lola sat there, stunned for a moment. What her brother said hit her hard. It felt like someone punched her in the gut. After a moment, though, the feeling dissipated into an odd prickly sensation. Her insides were in turmoil. Her pulse hastened, and her face flushed. "W-what do you mean; I'm your dream?"

Lincoln finished the mouthful of chili dog he was eating and swallowed it, then reached out and took her hands in his. It was now or never, and he couldn't handle never. Gathering his resolve, he stoked his courage and began talking, almost as if he were on autopilot. "Lola, this is going to sound crazy, but when you said you were quitting, I immediately felt lost. It's like I were a captive animal, released into the wild with no knowledge of how to survive."

Lola shook her head. "I'm confused," she said. Despite her feelings toward her brother, she was indeed addled. Lincoln was the man with the plan. How could he not have a backup? She began to feel increasingly nervous.

"Lola," Lincoln struggled to speak. "I love you," he blurted out, bracing himself for the pummeling of his life. For all the times he and Lori fought, fighting with Lola was entirely worse.

"Well, duh," she replied, giggling. What was Lincoln doing? Sure, she'd waited for this moment for so long, but hearing it was unbelievable. She was not ready for this. Play it off. Yes, that's what she'd do. "I love you too. We have to. We're siblings."

"No, Lola. That's not what I..." Lincoln began to explain but got cut short when Lola grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the dance machine. Placing a quarter into the game, she queued up a song and began dancing.

"Come on!" she squealed. "Let's celebrate!" She had to do something quick to shake the heat building within her. Maybe sweating it out on the dance floor would do the trick.

Reluctantly, Lincoln fell into sync with her and jumped from one lighted square to another. Having to concentrate on the moves distracted him, thankfully, and was soon having fun with his sister. After she'd owned three songs, Lincoln put in the fourth coin and selected a slower song. "Oops," he chuckled, taking his sister by the waist and beginning a gentle sway.

Lola flushed and fought the urge to confess herself to him. Being sweaty, with tousled hair, was not her idea of romance. Still, having him this close was exhilarating. Eventually, she gave in and allowed him to pull her close. There, she rested her head on his shoulder. "Lincoln..."

"Yes?" he whispered as he held her with strength and tenderness.

"What did you mean earlier?" she asked, barely audible. "You know when you said you loved me?"

Lincoln wasn't sure if then was the time, but the noise around them provided cover, and he submitted. "I don't know how, why, or when, but I fell in love with you somewhere along the way. I know it's weird and twisted and couldn't blame you for hating me for it, but that's how I feel. I can't imagine moving forward without you, especially after giving up something as valuable to you as your pageants. Your happiness means everything to me."

Lola melted inside. His words pierced her soul, to its very core, fanning the flames that were already there. There was nothing left to do but confess. "Lincoln," she said softly, gazing up at him. "I... I'm in love with you too, but I refuse to hold you back. You have to care for yourself first. You've spent so many of your best years helping my sisters and me out, that you never realized your dreams. Besides, the family would never accept us." An odd mixture of giddiness and sadness swirled within her as she spoke. She knew what she said was right, but was desperately looking for an excuse not to believe it. It held her insides captive, and she felt as though somebody wrenched her in half. "I'm sorry, Lincoln, but I..."

Lincoln's heart raced and beat against his chest like a stampede. He couldn't let it end like this. Reeling her in once more, he planted a firm kiss on her lips, taking her by surprise. At first, she attempted to push him away, but the tenderness of the kiss washed away all fear. For that one moment, she was in heaven and utterly unaware of her surroundings. How long had they stood there? It felt like hours. In reality, though, it was mere moments. After parting, Lincoln looked her in the eye and brushed a loose strand of hair over her ear. "You were saying?"

Lola was sweating profusely. Moreso from her emotional state than from the dancing. She looked deeply into Lincoln's eyes and toyed with her lower lip. Her face was glowing, and little crimson blotches appeared on her cheeks. "Nevermind. I love you so much, Lincoln. I think I always have." With that said, she embraced him once more for a second, more passionate kiss.

"What the literal fuck?" exclaimed a shocked voice beside them, startling the pair from their union.

"Lori!" they cried together. "This isn't what it looks like!"