“I know,” she answered softly, eyes lowering away from his finally to the hollow of his throat. “There’s nothing logical at all about us. And you don’t think we should just... stop, because of that?” What a silly thing to ask of him when she knew his feelings for her. “You don’t think or worry that I’ll discard you, too, after you’ve been used?” Whether for emotional support, for sex, for anything. Taking advantage of his feelings now that they were so out in the open.

Lucy took his hand then from her cheek and guided it to touch his fingers to her temple. “This up here fights with this,” and she then moved his hand to touch over her heart, “while both of those fight with this,” and finally, slowly, she was guiding his hand down, turning it palm up so it could slide down between her legs and cup her over her jeans. “This, Desmond, doesn’t help either of us.”

Doing that went against her original question of them stopping whatever was going on between them, Lucy knew that. Did she care? No. It was the truth. It was too easy to give in to lust and allow it to drive them; a lot of the time she wouldn’t fight it, despite it only complicating everything.