lockwood and co♡ locklyle

02・❥・overthinking

Lucy ♡

1306 words

Gonna hold ya, gonna kiss you in my arms

Gonna take ya, away from harm

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ: Big jet plane, Angus & Julia Stone 

Chapter Two. Overthinking

I woke to the smell of burnt toast and sunlight streaming through the attic skylight. I stretched stiffly, the aches and pains of last night came flooding back, lighting my wounded hand on fire. I clenched my teeth and swung my feet out of bed, the cold air sent shockwaves through my bare legs. It's going to be a long walk to the kitchen. I pulled myself down the stairs, one at a time.

"God, Luce. You scared me. I thought I was going to have to get my rapier," George said, squinting up at me from the landing. "But it's just you, back from the dead."

"Ha, ha George don't be such a menace. It's too early for that."

"It's half past one," he said, taking in my shocked face. "Close your mouth, Lucy. It's rude to gape."

"Why didn't you wake me up?" I exclaimed before quickly snapping my mouth shut.

George gave me a knowing once over, "trust me. We tried."

"You and Lockwood tried to wake me up?"

"Lockwood and I? No. He wanted to let you sleep. The skull made horrid faces at you whilst I poked and prodded. Well... perhaps it insulted you too, but I'll never know, will I?"

It was only now that I noticed the iron jar tucked under George's arm. The skull eyed me, jaw bones set into the hint of a smirk.

"It's an awful shame, I held out hope that you had died."

"Lies, I'm your only friend," I said indignantly, brushing past the two of them and into the kitchen.

Lockwood was sitting at the thinking cloth, furiously scribbling notes in his crooked handwriting whilst eating a blackened piece of toast.

"You know that nobody is forcing you to eat that toast, right?" I said, sitting opposite him. "I know you have a death wish but poisoning yourself isn't the answer."

Lockwood's head snapped up, "Luce, how are you? Nothing broken? How's the hand?" He got up and rounded the table to examine me. I wrapped my arms around myself beneath his scrutiny.

"I'll live," I shrugged, unable to hold his gaze.

"Good, good, we can't have you dying on us," Lockwood said flashing me a grin.

My stomach flipped. I need caffeine. That was the only possible explanation for the strange fluttering sensation that had taken over my heart. I pushed back my chair, but Lockwood put a gentle hand on my shoulder and sat me back down.