It was something she had often imagined before, in the silliness of daydreams: What it would be like to wake up with his arms around her, safe and warm in this little bubble his breath against her brow would create.īut she had never wanted it to happen this way. Of course, she knew what must've happened during the night: Her body must've acted on its own accord, free from the shackles of any resolve or common sense, and moved closer to Lockwood. Lucy could feel her cheeks redden under his gaze. Quickly, before she could think too much about all of the places his skin touched hers, she sprung up and darted away from him, nearly stumbling and falling over in her haste To her mortification, she saw the same horror she felt mirrored in his eyes. Slowly, she dared to look up at Lockwood. Legs entwined to the point where she didn't know anymore where she ended and he began? No, now she was basically laying on top of him: Head tucked under his chin, her chest flush to his, legs entwined to the point where she didn't know where she ended and he began. However, during the night, that distance had vanished, had evaporated into thin air. Lockwood had looked so uncomfortable at the prospect of being so close to her, after all. Lucy distinctly remembered leaving some distance between them before falling asleep. Only: It wasn't quite his shoulder that she was laying on anymore. Lockwood's chin.Īnd that was when last night's memories returned to her in full, excruciating detail: The fog, getting ghost-touched, lying awake in her bed, and then, finally, falling asleep on Lockwood's shoulder. She could hear what sounded like George's snickering moving further down the hall, and she wanted to raise her head to glare daggers at the door - but was caught off-guard when her head hit something hard before it could quite get there. "Oh, fuck off," she was calling out now, rather rudely herself. "Oh, as if you're one to talk! And we are decent!"Īt first, Lucy had been too tired to make sense of the conversation happening overhead, still half immersed in her dreamless sleep, but by now, she had caught on. And I would really prefer the first option because I'm not sure there's enough bleach for my eyes to forget those images." But still, get your asses out of bed, or else I'm going to have to drag you out. Though, I'm not so sure you would even want to eat any of that, to be fair. Mary's already downstairs and breakfast time is nearly over. "Are you in here? Are you decent?"Ī groan next to her, and something warm shifted beneath her touch. "Lockwood! Lucy!" an all too familiar voice shouted through the thick wooden door.
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