IN THE HOURS BETWEEN • TC

32. Hollowed Out

They end up finding themselves on a very chilly walk down to the West Pier, trampling over stones and pulling their hoods as tightly around their faces as possible. Una thought to bring gloves, but it seems that Timmy did not. She pulls his hand which is closest to her into her grip, and he smiles at her, squinting through a bluster of wind.

Generally, it is quite calm - just cold - but the view is beautiful. The sun hangs pendulously, bulbous and bright against a pink-tinged sky. The clouds hold a blue hue, fingering across the pink and sneaking in front of the sun as it lowers inch by inch.

All of this beauty, and next to it a hollowed out pier. The remains of something once equally beautiful, now charred and encrusted in moss, in mould.

Una gets out her phone, but can't take a picture with her gloves on.

"Let me do it," Timmy says, taking it from her hands and taking a few photos. He steps back a couple of times and moves to the left, and Una realises she's going to be in it. She licks her lips. Pushes back her hood and tucks her hair behind her ears. Smiles.

Timmy smiles back, his face peeping over the top of her phone.

—

At six o'clock, they sit down on the pebbles with their cartons of chips, doused in salt and vinegar, and eat slowly in the growing darkness, shrouded by the light of a nearby streetlamp and the warm glow of the shopfronts, of the arcades and restaurants and apartment windows.

Una leans into Timmy's arm for a moment, just to see what he will do.

He leans back into her, so that they are pressed shoulder to shoulder, and nicks one of her chips.

Una scoffs. Tries to take one of his in retaliation, but he's evidently thought about it already because his carton is held well out of her reach. He chews, chuckling. Picks up one of his chips and holds it in front of her mouth.

Una leans forward in the dim light. His thumb brushes her lip as he pushes the chip into her mouth, and Una chews. She wants to do so many things that she really shouldn't.

(1) Because of Frank. 2) Because she and Timmy are friends, nothing more. 3) Because this wasn't supposed to be anything more than a platonic outing but they held hands at the end of their walk when it got too cold. 4) Because they're not calling this a date, but Timmy still kissed the top of her head in the queue at the chip shop.)

Her hand reaches up to grab his wrist, and she brings his hand towards her mouth. Presses his thumb against her lips again, and she can hear rather than see Timmy swallowing.

"Una," he mutters deeply as her tongue slides tentatively between her lips, grazing the side of his thumb.

His thumb presses in a little further, slipping between her lips, and all Una can taste is salt and a need for Timothée that burns in her stomach.

He slips out of her mouth, his hand cupping her jaw as he turns her to face him. His face is dark shadows, his eyes a dull glint in the light from the street behind them.

Una watches the dark cavern of his mouth as it opens and closes. Hears his tongue parting with the roof of his mouth, and he is pressing forwards, his lips enveloping her own. Una sets down her chip carton on the other side of her and steadies her hand in the gap between them, turning into him as his lips smother her.

His mouth is open, insistent, needy, and she whimpers a little, shuffling closer. Timmy's tongue slipping into her mouth feels like it's supposed to be there, warmth and urgency melding them as he pushes closer, constantly closer.

His grunt is lost in her mouth as his hand circles her waist, pulling her into him until she is straddling his lap. Una bumps her nose against Timmy's, pulling away from his lips for a moment. She rests her forehead against his, breathing shallowly as his hands guide her hips against him. She groans, pressing into him in the darkness, trying to be surreptitious.