Never Let Me Go

Chapter 8. Running From Her Problems

Lucy burst into her apartment, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The walls seemed to close in around her, suffocating her with their silent judgement. In the dim light cast by the streetlamp outside, she could see her reflection in the mirror – pale, drawn, and haunted. Disgust welled up within her like bile, threatening to choke her. How had it come to this? She collapsed onto the floor, wracked with sobs as memories of her mother's harsh words replayed over and over in her mind. The pressure to conform, to excel, to be perfect – it was all too much. She yearned for escape, for freedom from the prison her own body had become. 

As Lucy lay crumpled on the floor, the sound of pounding on her door pierced the air. At first, she thought it was just another cruel trick of her mind, conjuring up more torment to add to her misery. But as the noise grew louder and more insistent, she realised someone was actually there. Panicked, she scrambled to her feet and stumbled towards the entrance, unsure of what awaited her on the other side. Through swollen eyes, she peered through the peephole and saw Tim, his face etched with concern and worry. For a moment, she considered ignoring him, sinking further into her despair. But something in his expression gave her pause. Maybe, just maybe, she didn't have to face this alone anymore. Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door, allowing him to enter her sanctuary, her refuge from the cruel world outside.

Tim's heart broke at the sight of Lucy in such a state of distress. He had suspected something was wrong, but seeing the evidence of her pain firsthand was a sucker punch straight to the gut. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her trembling frame, pulling her close as she buried her face in his chest. His mind raced, trying to formulate the right words to offer comfort. But in that moment, he knew that actions spoke louder than anything he could ever say. So, he simply held her tight, allowing her to draw strength from his presence. He could feel her body quaking with each sob, her tears staining his shirt as she clung to him desperately. *Please let me help you, Lucy.* He silently pleaded, rocking her gently back and forth, offering what little solace he had to give. When she finally looked up at him, eyes red-rimmed and puffy, he managed to choke out, "it's okay darling.. I’m here.."

Lost in the depths of her despair, Lucy barely registered the gentle movement of the world around her. She was vaguely aware of Tim's strong arms lifting her off the floor, cradling her like a fragile doll. Warmth seeped into her bones as he held her, his steady breathing providing a rhythm that seemed to calm the storm raging inside her. Before she knew it, she found herself sitting on her bed, staring blankly at the half-packed suitcase beside her. How long had he been there, taking care of her? She couldn't remember. It was as if she were watching everything unfold from outside herself, detached and numb. When she finally looked up, she saw the worry etched deep into Tim's face. The concern in his eyes was palpable, a stark contrast to the cold indifference she'd grown accustomed to seeing in the mirror. "Lucy," he said softly, his voice breaking through her haze, "we're going to my house, okay sweetheart." The words registered slowly, but once they did, a spark of hope flickered in the dark recesses of her soul. Could this really be happening? Was Tim going to help her? 

Tim's concern for Lucy was a tangible force, driving him to take action in ways he'd never thought possible. As he finished packing her suitcases, he couldn't help but worry about the fragility of her mental state. He'd never seen her breakdown before, this was so different – darker. His heart ached for her, and he was determined to do everything in his power to keep her safe. Once he'd gathered all of her things, he scooped her back up into his arms, careful not to jostle her too much. He carried her to his car, gently settling her into the passenger seat before buckling her in. The drive to his house was long and quiet, both of them lost in their thoughts. Tim glanced at Lucy often, watching for any signs that she might be slipping further into her depression. When they arrived, he helped her inside and tucked her into his bed, pulling the covers up to her chin. As he sat beside her, holding her hand, he made a silent vow to never let go, to always be there for her – even when she didn't think she needed him. He understood now that love meant more than just offering support; it meant fighting for someone's happiness even when they couldn't find the strength to fight for themselves. He so badly wished to tell her that he wanted her to be his.. He wanted Lucy to be his girlfriend..