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Lucy, Lockwood, and George had recently come home from the latest Fittes' gala at a late hour, all of them varying levels of drunk. George, the least sober, was currently pants-less sitting on the floor of the library, reading out one of his comic books to skull. It seemed that he was seeing if he could provoke some kind of reaction. After each face the skull made, George would note it down with a random marker he had found lying about. Mostly the skull made impatient and frightful faces, but Lucy thought it seemed that they were both enjoying themselves. No harm, no foul anyhow.
Moving past the library and down to the kitchen, Lucy, the most sober, went to brew a cup of tea before bed. She had already undressed practically as soon as they entered the door. Her dress, which Holly had gifted to her, was a brilliant blue which sparkled like a sapphire. It was lovely of course, but frightfully itchy at the seams. The baby blue pajamas she now wore, on the other hand, were soft as butter. They were an early Christmas gift from Lockwood.
Lucy filled the kettle and set it to brew while she debated over which tea took her fancy this night. She opened the cabinet above and skimmed her fingers over their small but robust collection of teas. She opted for orange pekoe. She could never understand Lockwood's fondness for earl grey, but she set aside a cup for him anyways.
As if on cue, Lockwood, who was not quite piss drunk but certainly not sober, poked his head through the doorway. "I see we had the same idea," he said walking in.
"Figured you might," she replied, handing him his mug.
He flashed a sleepy grin at her. "Thank you darling." He too wore a matching set of pajamas, although his were striped white and green.
Lucy sat at the dining table, noting that Lockwood was still slightly swaying in his drunkenness. She pulled out the chair next to her and said, with the hint of a smile, "Why don't you sit with me." She was not quite in the mood to be cleaning up spilt tea at this hour. At least, that's what she told herself.
Lockwood obliged, setting down his tea and plopped beside her. They sat in peaceful silence each sipping their own tea. After a moment, Lockwood started, "Sometimes... Sometimes I worry 'bout how I told you my feelings. It's selfish. That I said it too soon. Or maybe I shouldn't have said it at all. I mean I'm your employer and landlord for gods sakes." He shook his head to himself, "talk about conflict of interest."
Lucy reached over to grab his hand over the table. "After everything, I think maybe you deserve to be a little selfish. We both do. I certainly don't mind," she said, nudging his knee with her own. After a split second, a shadow of doubt passed over her. Maybe this was his way of nipping this thing they had in the bud. She let go of his hand. "But of course, if you wanted to stop..."
"No!" He grabbed her hand back. "I'm afraid it's too late for that now. I'm far too in love with you." He planted a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.
"You don't have to love me." She said it in a joking tone, but beneath it was an admission of insecurity.
"'Course I don't have to. Jus' like I don't have to breath. But I've found I actually quite like breathing recently. D'you know what I mean?"
"Yeah," she cupped his face with one hand. "Yeah I think I do."