run as fast as you can

454 19 2
                                    

CW for:
- Abuse
- Power Imbalance
- A man using his position to gain sex from young women
- Descriptions of depression
- Descriptions of a panic attack

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He keeps Thea's flat key on a Blackpool tower novelty key chain alongside a miniature Richmond flag and a thick, plastic-protected photo of him and his mum.

And, maybe, she should be upset that he never gave it back. It's not like he's seeing Casey anymore. There's no reason for him to have access to their home. But that's just it, isn't it? Their home. Thea, Casey, and Jamie. It's only ever felt safer with him around. No question about it. The sound of the TV on a late night. The whisper of his voice in the early hours as he tries his best not to wake Casey. The careful way he tried never to impose. The soft touch of his fingers in Thea's hair that first week. The impossibility of existing somewhere and not leaving a trace.

"Ladies first," he says, holding open the door.

He's being so gentle with her now. Has been ever since he let go of her hand at the club to order a taxi. It feels strange. Not many people would have seen her falter and been able to carry on caring the way he had. But who is she to try and find fault with that? This is what they do, isn't it? What they've done since the beginning.

And she knows the implications of him being here. The routine that she should be fulfilling so that he doesn't stop liking her. As useless as she's been in love, she's had one-night stands before. Knows the feeling of laying herself bare for people to see and hoping they don't treat her body like some tourist attraction.

But she doesn't want to do that with him.

Not now.

Not yet.

"Will you stay even if I don't sleep with you?"

Jamie looks at her then, one hand holding the door and the other frozen reaching towards her. He hasn't stopped trying to bridge the gap between them since the kiss.

"I won't be upset if the answer is no."

He shakes his head, "It's not."

"It's just, the way things played out I wouldn't blame you for thinking that was going to happen and I completely understand if..." He's shaking his head again, insistent. As if she's mad for suggesting that he wouldn't be happy to sit in silence with her. As if he'd never assumed that she'd sleep with him to begin with.

So, she takes him to her bedroom.

Which is woefully unprepared for guests. As it always is. There's a reason she's never let anyone come in. Not Casey. Not workmen. No one. Well, no one other than Jamie. "Sorry," she starts, pushing the pile of clothes on the bed to the floor. "It's-" A mess? Is that what she wanted to say? Was that enough of a word to describe the state of it? The dishes in a pile next to her bed. The empty bottles and dusty glasses that line her windowsill. The overflowing bin. She doesn't even know if it smells or not. What if she's acclimatised to it? She lights a candle as he settles at the edge of her bed. The sheets are clean, at least.

"You have a lot of stuff," he says.

It's not a life. She does have a lot of stuff. The hundreds of books she has yet to read line the room like an old stone wall. Clothes overflow from the wardrobe. Every space that could be filled, is filled. Is he disgusted by it? She can't tell by his expression. This is a lot, even she knows that. Does he have the capacity for the mess that she is? The tolerance for the grime that builds on her. Even at her best. Even then.

i don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you (Ted Lasso)Where stories live. Discover now