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Summary
Lucy was frustrated.
She'd spent the last week stomping around the safe house like a woman possessed, snapping at the Ghoul whenever he dared breathe in her direction. Her usual vautie manners had disappeared.
But he had an idea on how to fix it.
"Is this why you've been such a goddamn pain in my ass?" he said, his laugh low and hollow. He took a step closer, the ancient mattress groaning in protest as he rested one knee on its worn edge, carefully closing in on Lucy. The scent of heat and cigarettes clung to him like a second skin as he leaned forward, his fingers splayed against the dingy bedspread. "You need to be touched?"