Work Text:
The evening had been stressful. The type 2 visitor had been somewhat complicated to contain. A wound was obscuring Lucy's forehead, she had fallen and hit her head a little too hard. The blood had dried but I saw her wince on our way back.
Arriving at 35 Portland Row, I saw that the house was quiet. It was 4 o'clock in the morning, George was surely already in bed.
"Come into the kitchen, I'll take care of this nasty wound," I indicated to Lucy who had already started climbing the stairs to go to her bedroom.
"It's nothing Lockwood, I'm not even in pain," she replied.
"No it's not nothing Luce, come with me, I'll heat up some water, you'll have a cup of tea to warm you up while I clean your forehead."
She looked up the stairs and sighed.
"Fine," she said, turning to me.
I put the water on and headed to the bathroom to retrieve the first aid kit. When I returned to the kitchen Lucy had prepared the tea cups, tea bags, box of sugar cubes and teaspoons.
"Luce, I was going to take care of it."
“I'm not disabled Lockwood. And I don't need you to take care of me. It's not a big deal, tomorrow I will only have a small scar."
I sighed, annoyed by her little game, this girl was really stubborn.
I took the compress previously soaked in disinfectant with one hand and pointed at the table with the other.
“Sit on the table it will be easier for me to clean your forehead,” I ordered her in a tone that I wanted to be professional.
She was my associate before being my friend, I didn't want to have any misunderstanding between us. She rolled her eyes but finally sat.
I walked towards her and with my free hand, I lifted her bangs, stuck to the dried blood on her forehead.
"It's not pretty Luce, it will surely hurt," I informed her.
“Hurry up, the sooner it gets cleaned up, the sooner I can go to sleep.”
I pressed the compress very gently against her wound when I heard her growling suddenly. She clenched her teeth, even her eyebrows were furrowed. I had been right, it wasn't just a minor cut that would heal in three days.
The shrill hiss of the teapot echoed through the room. This startled me and Lucy laughed.
“Are you more afraid of a teapot than a ghost, Mr Lockwood?” she teased me.
"No, I'm afraid to drink infamous tea, Miss Carlyle."
I began to fill our cups.
"One lump ?" I asked.
“As always, with a drop of milk please,” she replied.
So I prepared her tea according to her instructions and handed her her cup. She lifted the steaming cup to her lips, sipped a sip or two, closed her eyes, and moaned in satisfaction.
“As good as ever, Lockwood. Thanks."
"My pleasure."
I picked up the compress with a more confident gesture than before and she put the cup of tea down next to her.
"I didn't see when you fell, how did you do it?" I questioned her.
"I don't remember too much, I think I heard the visitor running towards me, I lost my balance and I must have collapsed on the ground."
She winced again at the touch of the compress. I didn't like seeing her hurt or in pain.
“I’m sorry,” I told her, putting my hand on her knee.
I had to touch her, to feel her skin against mine. It was a vital need for me, I needed to feel her close to me, I didn't want her to leave. But I also wanted her to know that I was there for her, that I was going to take care of her.
“You had nothing to do with it, I should have been more careful,” she replied.
I could see in her eyes that there was more to it. The reason why she had fallen still haunted her. I made circles on her thigh with my thumb to try to make her understand that I was there, that she was safe now, at home, with George and me. No one would ever hurt her again, I was going to make sure of that.
“George and I are here for you Luce. You can count on us, on me,” I corrected myself.
I was so focused on cleaning her wound that I didn't even realize Lucy had put her hand on mine. How long had her hand been there? I stopped in my movements for a moment then I came to my senses and continued to clean her wound. Lucy squeezed my hand and I finally realized that her gaze had been on me all this time. I saw her eyes go back and forth between my eyes and my mouth. Oh lord, she wanted to kiss me. The moment I had been waiting for had finally arrived. I put the compress on the table and brought my hand to her neck. I moved my head dangerously close to her face. I closed my eyes and placed a soft kiss on her lips and rested my forehead against hers. Lucy smelled like strawberries, I inhaled again this smell that brought back so many happy memories. I wanted to engrave this moment forever in my head. I had kissed Lucy Carlyle, the girl who had crossed the threshold of my house a few weeks earlier.
I wanted to make this moment last forever but Lucy lifted her head to press her lips against mine once again. I let myself go and Lucy took the opportunity to deepen the kiss. I opened my lips a little more and our tongues met. Lucy put both her arms around my neck to pull me closer to her. My left hand, which had been on her thigh until then, landed on her waist. My fingers met her bare skin, the sweater she wore had lifted as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders. My fingers were as pressing against her skin as my lips against hers.
I ended the kiss to catch my breath. My eyes met hers. Lucy enjoyed that kiss as much as I did, her cheeks flushed red. She was also catching her breath. I felt her fingers against my neck. She had also wanted that kiss.
"Fuck," I exclaimed, suddenly pulling away from Lucy.
I took a few steps back, then rushed off towards my room. I heard Lucy shout my name from the kitchen. When I got to my room, I slammed the door shut and leaned on it. My breathing quickened. Tears formed at the edge of my eyes.
“Why did I let her in?” I ask myself.