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Lucille
Her hands were on his chest, one encased in his own. Their skin felt hot and sticky, slick with sweat from the anxiety that built in the loft, threatening to suffocate them like smoke. From beneath her, Tommy's chest rose steadily, although largely, and she wondered how he could remain so calm.
What if this was it? Any moment, a German soldier could come barging through the small hole in the floor, their gun raised and faces angry. She could imagine them stalking the lower levels, hunting like a cat does a mouse. Lucille felt stupid for thinking it was all over. She felt small, little, useless. They were in the middle of a war- they would never be able to escape the enemies claws, no matter how fast the scurried.
From the stairs below them, a loud bang rang out as footsteps ascended onto the landing. Lucille could hear her father's gruff voice muttering. He always tried to speak under his breath, but he was a loud man, and it may as well have been imposible. She prayed for him to shut up, if not for his own sake, but for hers. Maron didn't stop until after a groan of pain was emitted as a result of a loud smack.
Lucille tucked herself further into Tommy's chest, covering her mouth so she wouldn't cry. She could feel and soft touch gliding over her hair as she began to sob, her chest heaving silently. They were getting closer- they could hear the soldiers clearly. Tommy pulled her closer, muffling her cries until they were inaudible.
They held their breaths as they passed below, before descending the stairs with their heavy footsteps once again. Their breaths were let go as they sat up, careful to still remain quiet. Lucille flinched again as there was another loud sound, which was slightly muffled by the distance.
The soldiers had gone almost as quickly as they had come. From outside, they could hear the faint humming of an engine as a car left the courtyard quickly.
"I'm sorry. They were gone, I swear." Lucille broke out in a panicked sob, holding her hand over her mouth as she closed her eyes. "I thought they were gone."
Tommy shuffled himself around, silently telling her to huddle into him once again. She gave in, falling to his side. His bare skin was cold, but the touch was comforting as she continued to sob, her cries ugly and loud.
"Calm down, it's fine. They're gone." He soothes, his hand moving to brush over her arms that gripped around his torso. "They're gone."
"I'm sorry." She said again, the tears finally subsiding, as she moved a hand to wipe the wetness away from under her bloodshot eyes and heavy bags.
"They could have found you." She muttered, another batch of tears threatening to spill again.
Tommy smiled warmly. "But they didn't . It isn't your fault, Lucille."
The way he spoke her name was like a melody to her ears. It soothed her and her stuttered breaths began to disappear. Lucille nodded in defeat, sitting herself up straight and attempting to pull herself together. But she flinched again, hearing a loud knock in the loft entrance, her eyes widening in fear. She was calmed once again by her father's familiar wheezy voice shouting from below.
"You can come down." He said.
As Lucille moved toward the entrance, Tommy searched for a shirt, pulling one on and moving toward the other two as he buttoned it. Dawson was first down, followed by Lucille.
"What happened?" Dawson asked.
"Are they gone?" Lucille shortly followed him with questions, and Maron sighed.
"Yes, they're gone for good this time." He said, his voice sounding tired and solemn. "They we're searching for them."
"Do you think they got a tip off?" Dawson asked, and Tommy gave him a nudge in warning after his feet eventually touched the ground.
"No that couldn't be possible. No one knows." Lucille said, a frown still pulling her face down.
Maron slipped slightly as they spoke, his hand moving to grip the doorframe behind him. Lucille rushes to his side, slinging his arm around her as his eyes dropped, but he forced them open, shaking his head in protest. She motioned first Tommy to grab his other arm, pulling him into his room.
"Oh God, are you okay?" Lucille said, as she checked over him. "Are you hurt?"
"I'm fine, Lucille. Nothing a bit of sleep won't fix." He tried to assure her, but his voice was strained.
As her had glided over his shirt, he grunted in pain. Lucille moved carefully to lift the material from his skin, revealing a sharp spread of red blotches across his stomach. She hoped it wouldn't bruise as the redness reached across to his back.
"They hit you." She muttered, and Maron nodded through the pain, his teeth clenched in anger.
"We'll get through this." Lucille said, as she sat back, collecting herself as she looked around the small group that surrounded her. "All of us."
Sorry for the small chap but this is basically a part two to the last one xx
