sixthiterationlogs | (no subject)

WHO: Lucy Stillman
WHERE: Desmond's house
WHEN: Sometime after Ezio's gone
OPEN TO: Closed to Desmond
WARNINGS: Will update

Connor. Alec. And now Ezio. Three good people, gone, that she'd known or was beginning to get to know and become comfortable around. What was the point to establishing relationships that could turn meaningful if they weren't meant to last? Lucy had waited a few days for Ezio, assuming that he'd gone out to explore, as Connor had. Only this time she wasn't about to wait a week for him to return, she'd barely been able to wait the first day after checking his room to find his bed messy and slept in but the man himself nowhere to be found.

Why was this happening more and more? It wasn't just Alec and Ezio recently vanishing from the village, there were other faces she'd seen around on a daily basis before and now... Now they were nowhere to be found. What was going on? Where had they gone? Were individuals being kidnapped somehow right beneath their noses? This just made her all the more aware that time here wasn't as set in stone as it had first felt, when she'd arrived. If she unexpectedly left here, there was nowhere for her to go. She would go back to being dead. The same went for Desmond. Each passing day she thought of this at the very least once, and it frightened her, made her want to withdraw. Alec disappearing right before her very eyes, it had sunk in that any day could be their last. And now with Ezio gone...

Barely getting her hoodie zipped up and her peacoat pulled on, Lucy was hurrying out the door, finally this time giving into the panicking thoughts, realizing that she should no longer pull away. She should talk to him—really talk to him, tell him how she felt. Simply talk, confront what she’d been avoiding this whole time. Narrowly missing the puddles from the melting snow and mud along the path, she was running down hers and heading to the main road, not stopping, ignoring the protest of her lungs in her chest. She didn't stop until she was hopping up the front steps to Desmond's house, panting hard, and slapping the flat of her hand against the door, over and over and over, repeatedly, loudly, hoping he was home, praying that he hadn't suddenly gone off. She should've at least sent him a message to double check his availability, what if he was with Bull?

C'mon... C'mon c'mon c'mon...

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Desmond was home and reading at the moment. He was never much of a reader before, although he liked it occasionally, but he lived a more active life then. The bar kept him busy and he had enough casual friendships to distract him. The books were on the dull side, mostly, but he had been regularly looking over the brewing how-tos. He knew most of it by heart, but it was still reassuring to check his thoughts on the matter. He had no electricity so it was by firelight more often than not.

He knew people came and went. Hell, Nida was here and then back, somehow, he still didn't understand what happened there, but it was in a flash. It made him anxious too. Desmond quietly checked on the people he cared about without them noticing, not wanting to be a stalker per se but also wanting tot reassure himself they were alive. So he understood her panic; he'd felt that way while looking for Nida. Still, he was startled by the loud banging on his door, setting the book down and getting to his feet.

"I'm coming!" He told the door and whoever it was behind it, padding over shoeless and dressed down since he was settled at home for the day. Desmond moved quickly when he was concerned, and he pulled open the door, raising both eyebrows when he spotted Lucy. "Hey, Luce. You okay?"

The door came open and they were face to face. Lucy barely heard the greeting and the question, looking him over as if to make sure he was really standing there. She gave a hard swallow, throat dry from the unexpected run, and without another moment of hesitation she was moving forward. Her arms went around his neck and shoulders, her body pressed flush to his. He was always going to be taller than her and so she’d had to hop up on tiptoe to make up for the difference. The sound of relief that she gave at feeling how solid he was, it came out like a small sobbing laugh.

Okay. Okay, he was still here. This was real. He hadn’t disappeared on her or left her behind.

Lucy didn’t answer him. Her heart was pounding furiously up against her ribcage and there was no doubt he’d feel it through the layers. All she wanted to do right now was soak in this moment and his body heat, take in the scents of soap and shampoo, the feel of his cheek against her ear.