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“You wanna talk about it?”
Full of popcorn and zucchini, Lucy had slouched comfortably and completely into Tim’s lap, her ankles propped on the arm of the couch and her head resting lazily on his stomach. He had one arm draped across her chest, and she brushed her fingers aimlessly through the fuzzy hair along his skin while the movie played quietly on the screen beyond her toes.
It still struck her with a shiver of delight that this was something she could do now, something casual and caring and only for her. His arms. Having them wrapped around her, strong and soft, for her alone. She could run her fingers through his hair or across his skin, and she didn’t have to explain it away, or avert her eyes, or run off and hide in sheer embarrassment.
His touch was no longer just an elbow bumping her inadvertently across the shop console, his skin glimmering gold and enticing in the afternoon sun. His smiles were no longer rare and controlled, conceded only under intense duress and finely tuned wordplay. Their time together was no longer bound by office hours and spread thinly amongst their other friends and colleagues.
No.
He was hers.
All the hours, all the smiles, all the touches.
They were all hers now, too.
He poked her softly in the ribs.
“You awake down there?”
“Hmm?” She shuffled more snugly against his thigh, reaching for a handful of popcorn and snorting out a chuckle as he scoffed a kernel out of her fist on the way back.
“I said, ‘do you wanna talk about it’?” he repeated, crunching and swallowing deliberately above her.
“Talk about what?” she asked, tossing a kernel lightly into the air and catching it with her mouth. “How your knowledge of movie history halts somewhere in the mid-eighties?”
He jiggled her peevishly with his knee, narrowing his eyes.
“No…” He paused, then tipped his head towards Tamara’s room. “About whatever was going on with you two before I came home?”
She felt the mischievous smile on her lips die away as their interrupted conversation came back to mind.
“Oh. You picked up on that, huh?”
“I may have moved to Metro, but it doesn’t mean I’ve become a total idiot.” He cocked an eyebrow at her.
“Hmm, debatable.” She grinned again, tilting her head up at him and skimming a finger along the edge of his jaw. “Weren’t you the one who told me I shouldn’t have a dog because I wouldn’t have time to look after it? So you took ownership of said dog. And now you’ve moved in instead and abandoned my darling Kojo, king of canines.”
He scoffed, affronted, and drummed his fingers along the side of her ribs.
“I’ll have you know that ‘said dog’ is perfectly happy on his vacations with Genny and the boys. And Genny is delighted with his big stupid body and his big stupid bark when she’s there on her own.” He poked her in the side again, in time with his words, and she squirmed away from him, further into the cushions, giggling merrily.
A smile on the corner of his lips hovered, settling as she wriggled herself back into his lap and laced her fingers into his, preventing any further tickle attacks.
“But seriously,” he asked, after a minute had passed, and a young Malcolm McDowell raced rigidly through the streets of San Francisco on the screen, “Is everything okay with you and Tamara?”
Lucy inhaled slowly, eyes focused on the TV.
“Yeah. You know, she’s just feeling a little… unsettled, I guess.”
Tim nodded solemnly, clicking his tongue in understanding.
“I’m not surprised. To find out the dad you’ve been babysitting for is probably responsible for the mom’s disappearance?” He shook his head in disgust, “It’s awful. She shouldn’t have to deal with that.”
“Agreed, but…” Lucy gazed up at him, chewing her lip apprehensively, “It’s not the missing mom that’s upsetting her.”
He frowned, his eyebrows gathering together in confusion. “Then what…” There was a pause as the pieces clicked into place, and then his face fell into stark shock. “Wait… It’s me?”
She felt his legs jerk sharply below her and his hand dropped from her waist. She scrambled to sit upright, her feet tangling in the cushions as she pressed her hands against his chest, shoving him firmly back into the couch.
“No! No, no! Not you. She likes you.” She trailed a finger along his collarbone as she waited for him to settle, eyeing him up steadily. “It’s not you,” she repeated, tilting her head and offering him a wry smile, “It’s us.”
Tim stilled beneath her, his heartbeat below her fingertips and in the veins on his temples the only motion in his body until he narrowed his eyes slowly.
“Are we… embarrassing her?” he asked, incredulously.
Lucy let out a peal of laughter, tossing her hair back before leaning in to bump her nose against his. “I mean, probably.” She kissed him softly, reaching down to where his fingers had wound their way to the skin beneath the hem of her t-shirt. “You kind of can’t keep your hands off me.”
He shook himself free of her, affecting momentary indignation, before smiling smugly and pulling her fully into his lap. She lost track of time while he trailed a chain of kisses along her jaw, her breath catching in her throat and her pulse quickening beneath his lips as he tipped her face up close to him, one broad hand all but encircling her neck and twisting tightly into her hair.
Despite all evidence to the contrary, he wasn’t finished talking, and it was with a grunt of frustration that she eventually let him pull free from her, his chest hitching with a soft chuckle as he tucked her head under his neck, twirling a loose curl of her hair around his index finger.
“Seriously though,” he said, his chin tapping against her forehead as he spoke, “If you need some space, I understand. I can stay away tomorrow evening. Give you two some time to talk.”
Lucy sighed, snuffling her nose tightly into his skin and letting her displeasure be firmly known. “Fine. That’s probably a good idea.”
Her voice was muffled, but he nodded in agreement, tightening his arms around her and dropping another kiss between her eyebrows.
“You know, it’s not really ‘us’ either, per se,” she resumed, once she’d settled herself into his lap, digging her toes below the cushions of the couch for warmth, “Tamara’s been uprooted her whole life. People promised to take her in, then dropped her the instant things changed for them. I guess she’s just worried that with you in the picture, she needs to prepare for the worst. Be ready to move out at a moment’s notice and fend for herself again.”
Tim stuck out his bottom lip, frowning down at her. “I mean - she knows that’s not the case though, right?”
“Clearly not,” Lucy said, her stomach lurching at the thought of the apprehension in Tamara’s eyes. “But you’re right. I’ll talk to her.”
He kissed her head again, relaxing into the back of the couch and letting the distinctly seventies style car-chase play out on the TV screen beyond them. After a few minutes, Tim began to fidget underneath her, his fingers tapping an uneven rhythm along her hip bone. She pulled her head back from his chest, looking him up and down quizzically.
“What?”
His eyes darted around her face, his lips pursing thoughtfully. “Why now?” he asked eventually, his face steady, but the telltale tick of worry twitching at the corner of his right eye.
She stroked her thumb along his cheekbone, easing away the small lines of stress. “‘Why now’ what?”
“Why is she worried now?” he repeated, emphasising the last word. “You’ve been in relationships before while she’s been here. Why do I worry her?”
Lucy felt a bubble of laughter rise in her chest, but she suppressed it, biting her lip hard and dipping her nose into his cheek.
“You know why,” she murmured, smiling into his skin.
“Because I’m so roguishly handsome?”
He was being blasé, but she could sense the uncertainty below the surface, and she lay in close against him, stretching herself across his chest and curling a hand behind his head and into his hair.
“I’ve told you before,” she said softly, “You’re the most important relationship in my life.”
For a while, they were silent.
He pulled her tightly into him, his lips pressed against the crown of her head, the warmth of his breath spreading gently across her hair while the sounds and colours of the movie washed over them. What he didn’t say - what they didn’t say - she could feel in the warmth and strength of his embrace.
“You know,” she began after a while, “You don’t have to stay away for too long.”
He hummed a question into her temple.
“Tomorrow,” she clarified, “I’m a fast talker. I can probably get the message across in, oh… under an hour?”
He let out a puff of air that disguised a laugh, suddenly tilting her up bodily with one leg and reaching below her into his pocket.
“I forgot,” he said, rummaging around with one hand, “I got you something today. Both of you.”
She cooed excitedly, lifting her knees out of his way and watching with anticipation as he pulled a small, wrinkled scrap of paper from his pants pocket. He handed it to her with a smirk and a flourish, and she grabbed for it, unfolding it with a burst of surprised laughter.
“Unicorn stickers?!”
He nuzzled his nose close to her ear while she giggled, smoothing out the creases on the two stickers, and pressing them tightly against her chest.
“She’ll love it. I love it.”
He raised his eyebrows, his forehead pressed against hers. “You do?”
She nodded, her eyes steady on his.
“I do.”
And he kissed her.