the bones of our past - Lockwood x Lucy

First Blood

Lucy was awakened rather rudely.

"Lockwood! Lucy!" an all too familiar voice shouted through the thick wooden door. "Are you in here? Are you decent?"

A groan next to her, and something warm shifted beneath her touch. "Yeah George, we are. Why the fuck are you asking?"

"Mate, it's ten in the morning. Mary's already downstairs and breakfast time is nearly over. Though, I'm not so sure you would even want to eat any of that, to be fair. But still, get your asses out of bed, or else I'm going to have to drag you out. And I would really prefer the first option because I'm not sure there's enough bleach for my eyes to forget those images."

"Oh, as if you're one to talk! And we are decent!"

"Whatever you say!"

At 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.

"Oh, fuck off," she was calling out now, rather rudely herself. "We'll be right down."

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. Lockwood's chin.

And 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.

Only: It wasn't quite his shoulder that she was laying on anymore. Lucy distinctly remembered leaving some distance between them before falling asleep. Lockwood had looked so uncomfortable at the prospect of being so close to her, after all. However, during the night, that distance had vanished, had evaporated into thin air.

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.

Legs entwined to the point where she didn't know anymore where she ended and he began?

Oh God.

Slowly, she dared to look up at Lockwood. To her mortification, she saw the same horror she felt mirrored in his eyes. 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

"God, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed. "I- I didn't notice-"

Lucy could feel her cheeks redden under his gaze. 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.

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.

But she had never wanted it to happen this way. Without his consent.

Shame and regret were things gone wild in her head then. This was bad. So bad. Kind as he was, he had let her sleep on his shoulder, and what had she done? Violated his obvious boundaries. And God, he looked so uncomfortable now-

"I really didn't want-" Lucy started again, trying to explain, trying to take back what must've transpired during the night, but Lockwood just shook his head slowly with a downward glance.

"It's alright, Luce. I understand. I'll meet you downstairs." And with that, he was gone. He didn't smile, didn't hesitate. He just opened the door and walked out.