Chapter Text
Lockwood did not dream of Lucy. But that was mostly because he couldn’t get to sleep in the first place. He tossed and turned, eyes closed, forcing himself to feel tired. But despite his lack of sleep, his mind was too awake, excited from seeing Lucy.
I’m so pathetic, he thought to himself. It’s been four days and I’m panting after her like a lovesick puppy.
But he missed her touch already. He gave up after a few more minutes of trying to fall asleep. He got up and tried to reset his internal clock. He made himself a cup of tea, read a magazine while he drank it, brushed his teeth and went back to bed. But he still craved her touch.
He lay awake for a while, staring up at the ceiling, debating whether he should go to her or not. One the one hand, it would show her just how pathetic he was. Too excited by one kiss after not seeing her for four days to go to sleep. On the other hand, he would really like to sleep. If he didn’t sleep again tonight, he would be absolutely exhausted the next day, and wouldn’t be able to enjoy Lucy’s return as much.
He debates for a bit longer before his boredom made a decision for him. He threw off the covers, grabbed a torch and quietly made his way to the loft.
Once he was standing in her room, he realised he had not thought further than getting to her. He stood there awkwardly, wondering whether he should wake her up, just get in with her, or go back downstairs.
Once again, his decision was made for him.
“Lockwood?” Lucy’s sleepy voice whispered. “Is everything okay?”
Lockwood felt his cheeks heat up as he stood there sheepishly.
“Um, yeah. I was wondering…if I could join you?”
Lucy blinked a few times and smiled. Lockwood’s heart swelled at the adorable sight of Lucy with mussed hair and sleep in her eyes smiling lazily up at him. She pulled back her covers and shifted over to make room for him. He sighed in relief.
“You’re adorable,” she mumbled fondly as he pulled the covers over himself.
Butterflies fluttered in his stomach.
“I’m pathetic, you mean,” he said, chuckling sardonically.
“Hey, no,” Lucy reassured. She wrapped an arm around him and tangled her fingers in his hair, gently pressing her forehead to his. Lockwood sighed happily at the contact. “You’re not pathetic at all.”
“George would say so.”
“And you’re really going to listen George?” With her free hand she reached for his and fiddled with his fingers. “Besides, George isn’t here. He doesn’t have to know about it if you don’t want him to. But I’m here and I love you and I can’t think of a single pathetic thing about you.”
She leaned in to kiss him, their noses pressing together awkwardly because the pillow limited their manoeuvrability. Lockwood rubbed small patterns into her palm with one hand and ran his fingers through her hair with the other. He kept going back in for more until Lucy stopped him.
“You need to sleep,” she whispered.
“One more,” he pleaded.
Lucy gave him one long final kiss.
Lockwood, now content and sufficiently tired, closed his eyes and let sleep overtake him. Lucy waited until his breathing evened out before she kissed him once more on the forehead and let herself fall back asleep.
They both slept peacefully and dreamless in each other’s arms for the rest of the night (and for most of the next day too).