alternate universe where Lockwood and Lucy kiss before she leaves Lockwood and Co, after their argument in the Cafe. There's also a sad twist in the end so stay around for that
the start of this fic is basically the Creeping Shadow's plot, except th...
The smell of burnt toast, cinnamon and lavender, and that old smell the masks Lockwood's parents brought back from traveling around the world gave off. Something so far away and murky. i hardly knew much about Lockwood's past, as he seldom explained things he went through when he was younger, but it bothered me less after him telling me himself just a few days ago. When we trudged through the mucky water in the underground sewers at Aickmere's after a poltergeist blew a hole through the floor.
Thinking about that night left a pain in my chest and a throb in my temples. Walking through the mud with Lockwood at my side. A long gash across his pale cheek, his swooping hair fell in his face, the torchlight illuminated the tunnel and coloured his suit with its gold touch. He had explained what had happened to his sister Jessica when he was only 6, how he had failed to save her from an evil visitor trapped in a pot his parents found from a tropical village. It had brought tears to my eyes then and it will now. Every time i imagine little Anthony Lockwood knelt by his sisters bed, tears falling down his soft pale cheeks.
The very cheeks i had imagined cupping with my hand. The very pale face i had imagined kissing on the darkest nights.
I didn't realise it till i was knelt before the hollow boy. But i was very much in love with Anthony Lockwood. A Fetch that had impersonated him. Its hollow eyes boring into me, a gruesome slash across its ghostly chest, but it had been a fake. The real Lockwood tore his rapier through it, sliced it in half. Only its voice still rang in my mind. "I am what is to come. This is your doing." Was it telling the truth? will i cause Lockwood's death?
I had woken up to rain, like most winter days were in London. Two puffy sheets lay over me, keeping me warm in the freezing attic. I made my way downstairs to the kitchen. On the way there, i got a glimpse of Lockwood sat in the library. His dark unkept hair tangled in his face, i could just barely see his face. The sun illuminated his body, strong and slim, dressed in his typical white button shirt. Which was surprisingly rumpled, there was an undone tie hanging around his neck, elevated in the air as he bent to look over papers on the table in front of him.
I had been so distracted by his presence i forgot the creaky floorboard in the hall. My fluffy winter socks weighed it down. I grimaced and looked up. I still could not see his expression but the only sign of movement was his back stiffening ever so slightly. "Luce?" He called out. He knew i was there, standing pitifully in the hallway. When i responded i heard the quiver in my voice.
He suddenly got up, his fingertips lifting from the page of the magazine, letting it slip back onto the table, and made his way to me.
"Fancy taking a walk?"
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