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Every once in a while…Lucy caught the old, familiar scent. It was a distinct scent that usually hit her at the most inopportune times. Sewing up a lose stitch at work, working her way through the crowded streets, running a comb through her hair – it was longer now. Her hair dipped just below her shoulders. It threw her off-balance, though, this scent. Knocked her off her feet sometimes.
When it would dissipate she would merely shake her head and let everything simmer back to normal. She blocked any thought from getting too big, and she concentrated on whatever it was that she was doing. It was all she could do to slide down that slope again; there was no room in her life to visit ghosts of her past.
So she went back to work, or headed down the market, or walked away from the mirror whenever those moments happened, those physical sensations that had a surging potential of opening a floodgate of emotion. She had gotten quite good at it too. Partly because she got used to them popping up every now and then; partly because she was strong, she convinced herself. What didn't kill her – and surely she thought it would have at the time – made her the strongest she had been in quite a long time. Take that, ya stupid newsboy, she would think. I'm still here. Then she smiled and the world was right again. She won.
But oh, that scent. That intoxicating scent he had. So many memories. So many images that danced endlessly in her mind, whether she was aware of them or not. She could still remember breathing him in, she could still feel his lips against her skin, and his eyes burning into hers. She could see him so clearly, so much so that if only she reached out her hand they would touch.
She could hear his voice. I can still feel you too…
She saw him then standing in front of her, and before he got too close she raised her arm and slung it forward with strength.
"Ow!" David jumped.
Lucy felt her heart beat fast and she opened her eyes, startled. Bleary, she sat up and felt the stitching of her quilt on her bed and the warmth of David's body next to hers. The room – her single, cramped apartment – was alight in a dim, warm, orange glow from the candles on her desk and nightstand. She turned and looked at David who was rubbing his nose.
"Sorry!" rushed Lucy. She cringed and shoved tangles of her chestnut-colored hair from her face.
David let out an easy laugh. "It's okay. You're really energetic when you sleep."
Lucy looked down. It wasn't like she didn't already know that – it wasn't exactly the first time she had dreamt something similar to what was running through her mind merely moments ago. She sighed tiredly and adjusted herself so that she rested her head on David's chest in the way she had before she had drifted off to sleep. David let his arm fall across her shoulders as his eyes flew around the page of the book he held out before him.
"What time is it?" asked Lucy.
"A little after nine." His voice was monotone and tired. He had been with her in her apartment for the better part of the evening, after Lucy had finished work and after they had had dinner. "You fell asleep about an hour ago. I've gotten a lot of reading done since then."
Lucy hit his arm. "How boring for you, you should've woken me up."
"Yeah, that's true, I guess. I can't imagine how exciting—" he turned to the book cover—"Modern Mathematical Theory can be, though." He grimaced—sometimes he didn't understand why he was still slaving away through school anymore.
"I'm gettin' a headache just thinkin' about it," said Lucy dryly. She felt a quiet chuckle from inside his chest rumble and disappear.
"It's okay. I've got a test in a few days so I've needed to study. It's a good thing that you like to sleep a lot, I guess. It's good for my grades."
"So you find—" she grabbed the book to look at its cover again—"Modern Mathematical Theory more amusing than me? How awful! A book can't possibly be that much fun."
"Oh, it's not. Trust me. You're far more amusing. You have a pulse, and a working mind, and you don't smell like you've been sitting on a shelf in an obscure bookstore collecting dust for the past ten years." He bought the book to his nose and shuddered. "I guess I can't expect math to be in high demand."
Lucy agreed, smiling lightly.
"But really, don't feel bad about dozing off. You're surprisingly interesting to watch when you sleep. You fidget a lot, and after a while you can see her eyes move real fast even though they're closed. That's how I can tell you're dreaming, it's really very funny." He laughed as if recollecting an entertaining memory that only he would know.
Lucy felt her cheeks flush in the slightest way. She usually remembered her dreams because they were ordinarily incredibly vivid. She could recall details and snapshot images of them as soon as she woke up, and sometimes they stayed with her for days and sometimes they evaporated within minutes. She knew what she dreamt about most of the time, too – she just hoped she didn't give any of it away.
"Do I talk in my sleep?" she asked.
"Sometimes. Most of the time it's impossible to translate. I try to have conversations with you…Doesn't work, though." He laughed again.
She sent her small fist into his chest again. "Don't make fun of me!"
"I'm not!" He was laughing now at her insecurity, uncontrollably.
Her face went pink again with a reluctant smile. She threw her arms across her chest, crossing them and biting down her lip to keep her smile from getting bigger. It was funny, she had to admit. People are so vulnerable when they sleep.
"You basically just…" he choked out between laughs, and began waving his arms around in imitation, "thrash around and go crazy and mumble shit I can't figure out."
Lucy sighed and looked up at the ceiling, embarrassed. "You're cruel."
David's chuckles started to fade. "Nah, I'm just thoroughly entertained." He rustled her hair and messed it up playfully. When she glanced back he smiled an easy grin, and she settled back into her usual resting place. He was a comfortable, safe spot for her.
A few minutes later, once she calmed her slight anxiety about her sleep-talk, she felt her eyes start to go heavy. She couldn't help how much she slept these days; working for Molly suddenly became exhausting, and her nightly routine was becoming so fixed in monotony that her body was simply used to getting tired at the same time every evening. Everyday she went to work, went to dinner, spent time with David, Jack, the boys, or the Jacobs', and went back to her apartment until she fell asleep and David left for the night. There were no nightly interruptions or anything in particular at all that would keep her awake. The last time she felt this scheduled was when she lived in Ms. Carrigan's orphanage, and she didn't particularly like it.
She adjusted her head against his hard chest – the boys had been teaching David more of the physical ropes of being on the streets, even though throwing punches was never the way David handled things, and most of the time he was at school. "It ain't gonna kill ya," Jack had said to convince him. Lucy backed him up – muscles were never a good thing to lack, she thought to herself. So she enjoyed the fighting lessons; she couldn't exactly complain about the enhancement in his arms and chest and stomach. She suppressed a laugh deep in her stomach.
Before letting herself fall asleep in David's company again she looked up at his face. His rich, blue eyes were serious again, scanning the pages of his school book intently. She suddenly felt a little more awake. "Why don't ya stay here tonight?"
His eyes flickered her way. For a moment they stayed locked with hers, until he said flatly, "I don't think so."
She sighed in defeat. The closest thing the two of them had come to actually sleeping together – simply snoozing in the same bed – was whenever David came over to spend time with her and catch up on his reading and she inevitably fell asleep in the middle of it.
"I have to be back at a certain time. You know that," he said, though she swore there was a hint of sadness and restraint in his voice.
It was true. David still lived with his parents. Parents who had rules and expectations and, ugh, curfews. Lucy had spent the better part of her childhood without her parents and consequently lived either on the streets with Jack, in various orphanages in and around Boston, or completely on her own back in Manhattan once she had escaped. Rules were foreign things to her, insignificant things that she broke at the drop of a hat. Her past taught her well how to bend the rules; sometimes it hardly worked in her favor, though, and the repercussions seemed endless and exhausting. Yet that's precisely where those old habits were – in the past. She wasn't a kid anymore. She had a steady companion, a secure job, a protective brother, a confidante friend, and a whole slew of newsies who, despite a bite of past betrayal, were good and loyal friends. Life was…well, pretty good, if she was adding it all up.
"Sorry," said David.
"It's okay." Lucy faked a yawn and stretched out her arms over her head. She fell into him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Usually whenever he denied staying the night she would in subtle ways remind what he would be missing and tested his limits. She closed his book and tossed it to the floor. One corner of his mouth turned upward, picking up on her actions, and she planted her lips on his, holding them there for sustained moments. He gripped his hands around her hips, clenching them a little tighter with every passing second. She felt her pulse quicken.
Lucy pulled away. She remained inches from his face, the traces of a smirk on her face. He breathed a disbelieving laugh for a second, shook his head briefly and moved in again. But she pulled back and faked another stretch and another weak yawn.
"Goodnight!" she said, knowing full well what she was doing. She plopped down onto her pillow and pulled the blanket up to her chin. A smile itched painfully to come out.
David stayed frozen for a couple of moments, his face reading an obvious thought: What the hell? Lucy raised her finger and held it between her teeth, trying not to chuckle. But David simply sighed and shook his head. His loss, she thought. He gathered his books together and put on his shoes. He kissed Lucy on the forehead, blew out the candles, and left for the evening.
Lucy held her breath until the door closed, for she knew if she opened her mouth to speak she would instead bust out laughing. She felt her teeth dig into her finger, but once she heard the last few footsteps of the David descending the staircase in the hallway, she found nothing to be humorous at all anymore. She was alone that night, just like every other night. There was no person to snuggle up to or talk to or kiss innocently. It was only her. Her and reoccurring, lifelike dreams. She sighed and willed herself to go back to sleep.
But really, when she thought about it, she could hardly complain about the things going on in her mind that were beyond her control, and being alone with her dreams was never as bad – or as lonely – as it seemed…
A/N: Vote in my poll, please! Thanks, I love you all so very much :)