TAKE IT EASY • TC ✔️

43. Tinned Tuna

"You're here," Giuila said. Lu chewed on the grape for a second. Swallowed.

"Yeah, I'm...here," she said awkwardly, feeling Marco's eyes in the back of her head. She bit back the words she so desperately wanted to say, and walked forwards instead. Giulia looked almost affronted when Lu held out her arms, but made a show of kissing her daughter on either cheek. They shared a hug which, to Lu, felt like embracing a mannequin.

"It's nice to have the two of you home," Giulia began, hanging up her cotton jacket on the coat rack and slipping out of her work shoes. "I presume you know Marco is here," she said, and Lu turned around to her brother, who gave her an almost undetectable shrug and a look of just answer her.

"Yes, we were just having a conversation, actually," Lu said pleasantly enough. Gave her mother a clipped little smile.

"That's nice," Giulia replied, equally as curt.

"Well, I'll be off then," Lu said, turning away and back into the kitchen, where she retrieved the carton of grapes from the fridge and made to brush past Giulia into the hallway.

"Are you not staying?" her mom asked, and even Marco looked a little concerned.

"No. Do we have anything we need to talk about?"

Giulia bristled, and then her chest deflated. "No. But aren't you-"

"Right, so I'll see you later," Lu cut her off. Started to go up the stairs.

"Your coffee's here!" Marco called after her.

"I'll get it later!" she called back, and took the stairs two at a time, bounding up them until she reached the door to her room. Lu had always wished there was a lock on it, ever since she could remember being tall enough to go and close the bedroom door when she wanted private picnics with her teddies, or wanted to read in peace.

She wished more than anything that there was a lock on it now, because she wanted to get into bed and close the curtains and turn out the lights. Wanted to be completely alone, wanted to drown out her thoughts with darkness, wanted to soak it in until she could barely tell herself apart from the rest of the room. Wanted to be able to lift her hand two inches from her face and not even see it.

But there was no lock, so Lu shut the door. Shut the curtains. Shut everything up, in, including herself. Slid beneath her old comforter with her punnet of grapes and lay there, feeling like a Roman emperor gorging on fruit until he made himself sick. Feeling heinously indulgent, feeling stupid.

She ate until the grapes were too sweet, until the backs of her teeth felt fuzzy when she ran over them with her tongue. Ate until she could no longer convince herself that she had something to do, ate until she could no longer stay awake.

Lu slept.

Lu slept under the covers, comforter pulled up right over her head, and her face was too hot, the air around too warm, too stuffy from her breath, but she made it work because it was dark, and dark was good. Made it work because she'd got next to no sleep on the plane, made it work because there was nothing else for her to do except think, and that was the last thing she wanted to be doing.

And it did work, for a while. To a certain extent. Lu wouldn't ever say that she had dreamt about Timmy, but he was the last thing she had thought about when she went to sleep and the first thing she had thought about when she woke up. Everything else was blurry, the contents of her dream already scattered to other parts of her brain, to the air around her. The only thing clear was Timothée, beautiful and so kind and so easily broken. Timothée, and being tucked into the curve of his arm. Timothée, and his face the day after she'd kissed him. Timothée, and his last night was a one-time thing. Timothée, and his it was just a favour. Timothée, and his we're still friends, right?