Lucy moves to check her watch again. He's late. She sighs heavily, as she looks around the library. She has her history book pulled out, her journal resting on her lap, and her pencil irritatingly tapping against the table.
She hasn't seen Wyatt since she dropped him off at the gas station on Friday.
Every time she felt like she was getting to know him or at least a little closer to having a conversation that didn't revolve around school work, he shut her off, changing the subject, or in the case of last Friday, jumping out of her car before she even got to his house.
It wasn't that he was impersonal, he asked her questions about herself all the time or had discernibly picked up on the details through observation. But whenever she tried to move the conversation, he'd shut her down or try to charm his way into switching the topic back over to her or the assignment at hand.
As she'd made her way home Friday, dejected at how they'd left things, she'd been caught off guard to find that her mom had invited people over. The house had been full of stuffy professor types, and powerful looking people that she wasn't sure how they were acquainted with her mom.
She had tried to slink past the crowd into her room, but she'd been intercepted by her eager-faced mother, forced to be paraded around to these strangers. The same introduction, always, with a set of plans for her future that she wasn't quite sure were so much her idea as they'd been set for her since birth. A notion that had been weighing heavily on her mind more and more as the year progressed.
She had put on a fake smile, her dimples never making their appearance, instead a nod of her head, a shake of her hand, a frowning disapproval at her attire, her mother apologizing for her, as if they cared.
"This is Luke," she'd said with a knowing grin, as she introduced her to a boy her own age. She recognized him from her English class. He'd asked to borrow a pencil from her the other day, but hadn't spoken a word to her otherwise.
Lucy had given the same smile she'd forced at the dozen other people she'd met. Her mother rattled off his father's accomplishments, as if they were meant to impress her, before whispering in her ear, "Be nice, you two could hit it off." Gripping her shoulders, an awkward grimace of a smile coming to Lucy's lips, as her mom walked off.
"So…" he'd started, giving her a once over, which had her crossing her arms in front of her, narrowing her eye at him, while bringing her long curls forward, almost like a shield to hide her.
"If you'll excuse me, I have to find my sister," she'd only half-lied, a disingenuous apology, and a quirk of her lips as she left the guy standing there gawking after her.
Rushing up the stairs, she'd locked her door, sliding down the wall, eyes closed, hair trailing above her as she settled on the floor.
"That bad?" Amy asks, looking over from Lucy's bed, before getting up and making her way over to the young girl. She may be young, but her sister was wise.
Waving her hand, she gestures for Amy to move over, clumsily kicking off her shoes, crawling into the bed, and wrapping her sister up into a hug.
xxxxx
Lucy's yellow dress sways with her movement, the 60s attire far more comfortable than the corsets and hoop skirts she'd found herself wearing before. But as she makes her way into the Lifeboat, it's not the dress that's weighing her down this time, but the diamond reflecting light on her finger. Her mind swirls with the idea of having to deal with this new person suddenly thrust into her life.
Engaged.
She can't say she'd never thought about getting married. The notion had crossed her mind more than once, although in every scenario it wasn't Noah, this stranger, that had given her a ring, instead it was the man that was sitting in front of her that she'd imagined. The one who with a sigh, leans over to strap her in.
"Nice rock," he jokes, glancing over at the ring, grabbing the strap from that side. "You're really getting into these costumes," he says with a laugh, his fingers brushing against her ribs.
Flexing her hand to look down at the diamond adorning her finger, she finds herself pursing her lips with a tilt of her head, almost reluctant in admitting this piece of information to him, but curious how he'd react.
"No, apparently, I'm engaged," she reveals, almost phrasing it as a question, still unsure of how exactly she'd managed to pull herself together enough to be able to function in a relationship serious enough for marriage after what happened.
Wyatt stills at the confession, momentarily abandoning the task of buckling her in, and stares at her with shock and almost a flash of disappointment sulking on his face.
"To who?" He grits out, his disapproval evident in his tone.
"Exactly. His name is Noah. I've never met him before, but there's all these pictures of us at the beach that I have no memory of."
"You hate the beach…" Wyatt says, she assumes out of habit. The list of things he knows about her are extensive, one of which being that she doesn't care for the beach. She's always preferred something more cultural, a city to explore and discover. The water only furthering her hesitance to spend any amount of time around the ocean.
"Apparently, there's a version of me that doesn't, and she got engaged…to Noah," she frustratingly admits, as Wyatt resumes his task, spinning her this way and that to make sure she was safe.
"You gonna take his name or are you gonna keep yours?" He jokes, focusing on the buckles, before peeking up at her with a half grin, those blue eyes revealing more than just jealousy playing with his emotions, because she swears she sees regret floating in there somewhere too. The fact that there was a point in her life when she thought she'd be a Logan plays heavily on her mind.
"I don't even know his last name," she replies matter of factly, putting on white gloves, hoping to hide the ring from prying eyes.
Wyatt plays like he doesn't care, but if there's one thing she knows, if he didn't care, he wouldn't ask.
"Well, look on the bright side…"
"There's a bright side?" She pessimistically wonders, eyes wide.
"You still have the honeymoon to look forward to. He'll probably taking you to a beach," Wyatt says with a wink, like the idea that he knows more about her than her fiancé is something he takes pride in.
"Plus, you get to go to Vegas," Rufus chimes in, like the city of impromptu elopements was exactly where she wanted to go at the moment.
xxxxx
She'd spent the rest of the weekend rewriting her history paper, and playing over conversations in her mind of what she was going to say to Wyatt come Monday. A script of sorts playing in her head, a plan.
All of which had flown out the window as the minutes ticked by. While irritation and anger competed against each other, at the forefront was dsiappointment leading the race.
She attempts to start her homework without him, but she's too distracted, and finds herself checking her watch every five seconds. That is until she looks up to see Jessica hanging around one of the stacks, glancing back at her with her friend.
Lucy tries not to make eye contact, the girl having never once said a word to her despite meeting Wyatt nearly every day after their sessions.
"Who's that?" Jessica's friend asks loudly, motioning with her eyes towards Lucy, which has Lucy herself ducking her head, pretending to write, so as to not to appear to be eavesdropping, even though they were speaking loudly.
"Oh, she's just a tutor," Jessica dismissively replies, and although Lucy doesn't know this girl, she can't help but feel every insecurity rear its ugly head. Straightening her back momentarily before slumping forward, her resolve threatens to crack.
Lucy had always acknowledged that she was something of a nerd. She wasn't naive in thinking that loving history and musicals, staying in to study for a test over going to a party made her cool. But she'd always had a group of friends that at the very least made her feel she wasn't alone, contentedly self-confident in who she was. Here, she found herself struggling, lost in the crowd, shunned by most, the comment just another reminder that that all she was to everyone, who she was to Wyatt, was just a tutor. A nerd.
Suddenly, the idea of sitting around waiting for a guy who hadn't given her a second thought, who found her so insignificant that he just completely stood her up, seemed absurd.
xxxxx
"Saving history is your job. Mine is Flynn," Wyatt shoots at Lucy in the crowded casino. His authoritative tone only making her want to stand her ground even more.
"So you're calling the shots now? No debate?" She questions, not sure when he thought he was put in charge, but she was about to check him right into place.
"No, there's no debate," he argues, and she narrows her eyes.
"You do remember what club I was apart of in school, right?"
"Oh, I remember," he argues with a jerk of his head, like he knows he's fighting a losing battle. Their fights never lasted long, but they always ended with Wyatt admitting he was wrong, with her stubbornly unable to stay mad for too long.
The interruption of Rufus with uniforms to sneak into the show, ending the argument, for now.
"Really?" Lucy exclaims, holding up what had to be one of the skimpiest looking uniforms that existed in that casino. It looked more like lingerie than something she was meant to work in. It somehow managed to be both low cut and practically non-existent on the bottom. "You couldn't have found me a thong?" She asks, sarcasm dripping from her tone.
Wyatt bends at the side, closely examining the uniform, as Rufus defends his choice.
"I didn't invent Vegas."
"Well, go back and invent me a waitress uniform," she says, folding up the garment and handing it back to him.
The shit eating grin plastered on Wyatt's face is enough to have her shooting him the same look she'd given Rufus.
"What?" She barks at him. "It's nothing you haven't seen."
He just shrugs, the grin refusing to leave, his eyes roaming over her at the suggestion of the past.
"I didn't say anything," he defends himself, holding up his hands. "But glad you remember," and she finds herself turning away from him at that, waiting for Rufus to return.
xxxxx
Lucy waits until the girls have walked away before standing to gather her things, the tears building, leaving her vision blurry. She nearly throws her history book into her bag in her rush to get out of there.
Of course, just as zips up her bag, she sees him.
"Lucy," he says, eyes bloodshot, as if he's been up all night, exhaustion wearing on every part of him.
She chooses to ignore him, as she's past the point of curiosity or excuses and just wants to go home.
"Hey, I'm sorry, I…"
"I don't care," she says, throwing her bag over her shoulder and moving to leave.
"Wait, Lucy, come on," he pleads, trailing after her through the library.
Suddenly, she whirls around, nearly causing him to slam into her, his face taken aback at her change of direction. Her curls bounce in the movement, a few tendrils coming to land in her face, her hand pushing them back in frustration.
"Do you think this is a game?" She asks, her brow furrowed together, her voice shaking, and she knows he can see the well of tears in her eyes.
"What are you talking about? I've been late once, it's not a big deal," he tries to reason.
"Maybe not to you, but it is to me," she gets out, thinking of all the ways he had made her think that maybe she was more than how everyone else saw her, only to quickly sink back into herself, chastising the notion that this was more than it was.
As she turns to leave, she can't help but see the confused look on his face.
"You're wrong," she hears him say, but she continues to walk away, finally allowing her tears to fall.
xxxxx
The door slams in Lucy's face, Judith Campbell the least of all pleased with her and the team for essentially kidnapping her.
"She's hiding something," Wyatt points out, the explanation of who exactly she's a mistress for doing nothing but seemingly agitating him further. For some reason, he seemed to have a one track mind this mission, and his reluctance to have a conversation about what to do, seemed to only lead to more debate, as she refused to go along.
Usually she was the stubborn one, he reckless, but today it's as if he's vying for her position.
Kicking down the door he drags Judith out of the bathroom, her escape thwarted.
"If I have to tie you up," he threatens, and Lucy jumps in, shooting him a look of disbelief.
"He is not going to tie you up," she tries to reason.
"Oh, the hell I won't," he says, leaning down to make sure Lucy sees how serious he is.
She narrows her eyes at him, unimpressed with his attitude.
What was his problem today?
"Excuse me?" Lucy says, punctuating the words with her hands flying in front of her to make sure he was listening.
He turns from her then, as if not wanting to see how irrationally he was acting, with no need to be stopped by her.
"This guys knows things about me. Personal things that are none of your damn business," Judith adds, her voice rising.
"Oh what, like screwing JFK?" Wyatt throws out, no regard to the sensitivity of the situation.
"Wyatt," Lucy hisses, completely thrown by his behavior. "Stop it!"
He turns towards her, leaning so their faces are at the same level, his eyes swirling, as her's burn. Fire and ice.
"I'm sorry, we cannot play coy anymore."
She steps closer to him still, his breath erratically hitting her face, his frustration coming off of him in waves.
"Go in the other room," she sternly whispers. "Please," she adds, a plea for them to get this right.
With a huff, he angrily makes his way to the other room.
She gives an awkward smile at Judith, Rufus slinking to the window, not wanting to be apart of whatever spat was happening between the two of them.
The tension eventually dies down in the room, the electric energy having vacated with Wyatt.
"Water?" She offers Judith, who shoots her down.
"So, you and brooding blue eyes in the next room," she broaches. "You sleeping with him?" Lucy nearly chokes on her water, having not expected the question. She can hear a snicker from Rufus by the window.
"What? Um, no, no, we're not…no, not sleeping together," she gets out in likely the most awkward way that suggests that while she was not currently sleeping with hi, she wouldn't be opposed to the idea. She felt she was constantly wavering back and forth with every exchange she had with Wyatt. There was a part of her that was still holding on to what had happened before, and just as she began to warm to the idea of him being around again, they start fighting.
"Well, he could use it. He's wound pretty tight," she observes, effectively sending Rufus out of the room.
Adjusting her hair, Lucy sits, now that everyone was gone and it was just the two of them.
"We uhh, we used to…"
"Sleep together?" Judith offers.
"Yeah…but it umm, it didn't work out," she says, staring into her water with a sad smile.
"Hmm, I can't imagine why," Judith says with a twitch of her eye.
"He's not…he's not usually like that," she tries to defend him.
"A man who acts irrationally like that," Judith explains, gesturing to the next room. "It's because he thinks he's got nothing to lose."
xxxxx
"You heading to lunch?" The question seemingly coming out of nowhere. Lucy looks around to find Luke, from her mom's get together, attempting to catch up with her. Apparently, he hadn't been deterred by her quick departure the other night.
He keeps in stride with her as she makes her way through the hallway. She's never much minded enclosed spaces, in fact she almost found comfort in the walls being so close, as if keeping her safe. But as she pushes through the throng of people milling about in the hallway, she can't help but feel the tiniest bit claustrophobic.
Gripping the straps of her backpack, she turns to look at the guy who'd just asked her a question.
"Umm, yeah," she awkwardly shrugs, not sure what to say. She's tired, having spent the night curled up in bed dredging up every embarrassing moment she could, emotionally torturing herself, and when she felt like she'd had enough, she'd started in specifically on the moments involving Wyatt.
"Hey, have you started on that Hamlet assignment, because I don't get it," he asks, pushing through the doors to the cafeteria, getting her attention.
At her old school, she'd always brought her lunch, bypassing the line, and ate outside with a few of her friends. The overcast sky having always offered them an excuse to pull their sweaters a bit tighter, their boots a fashion accessory that could last the whole year as the fog hovered above.
Here, however, to venture outside to eat was just asking for you to show up to your next class completely soaked and sunburned. Which left her with limited options, usually choosing to bring her own lunch, finding a seat in the back, her company whatever new book she was currently reading, as she quietly ate her lunch.
"Umm, yeah, I have, actually," she responds, and he smiles at her. He seems nice enough. Cute in a goofy kind of way. She's not sure she wants to act as a tutor to someone else, further cementing her title as exactly what Jessica had referred to her as, but he's the first person to speak to her on his own volition, so she finds herself smiling back.
"Do you think we could go over it?" He asks, and she nods, as she takes her seat at her usual table, and he takes off to get in line for his food. She finds she's only slightly disappointed that her company wouldn't consist of fictional characters.
Pulling out the folder with the assignment, and her sack lunch, she notices that her journal is missing from it usual spot. She hadn't taken it out at home the night before, but now, somehow, it was missing. The panic begins to rise in her chest, and she quickly takes everything out of the bag, looking in the dark, empty space with no journal in sight.
"No, no, no," she mutters to herself, trying to think of where she could've left it.
Distracted, she doesn't look up when someone sits down next to her, expecting it to be Luke. But she finds herself gasping with relief when she sees her journal appear in front of her, only to feel dread sink in when she sees the hand attached belongs to Wyatt.
"Looking for this?" He asks with a sad smile.
She quickly takes the pages into her hands, as if they'd reveal where they'd been and who had breeched their spine to read.
"Where did you…" she trails off.
"You left it in the library yesterday," he explains, but she knows he can still read the panic on her face. The idea of him having read what she'd written, about her life, about him. The blush of embarrassment already heats her face.
"I didn't read it, if that's what you're wondering," he replies, and she expects a smirk, but he's serious.
She narrows her eyes at him, not sure if she can trust him.
"You really think I'm that terrible?" He asks her, and while she's still mad at him, the sincerity staring her in the eye suggests that not only was he telling her the truth, but that the thought of someone invading her privacy like that made him angry for her.
"No," she concedes with a sigh. A shy quirk of her lips telling him that while he wasn't off the hook, she did believe him. "Thanks," she says, holding up the book before safely tucking it into her bag.
He quietly nods, curiously glancing to his side.
"Friend of yours?" Her brown eyes flash up to see who he's referring to.
"What?" She asks, confused by his question.
Wyatt gestures to Luke, who's giving side-long glances at them from the line against the wall.
"Why? You jealous?" she teases, popping a grape into her mouth, and she swears she can see him shakily follow the movement of her lips with a grin that sends her right back to that car, the gentle whisper of his fingers against her torso.
He doesn't bite back a smile at this, reaching over and grabbing a grape from the bag, before popping it into his own mouth, his hair hanging over into his eyes, as if begging for her to push it aside to see the blue staring back at her. Her hands unconsciously move into fists to resist the urge.
"No, I…just…his name his Luke," he says, as if that were explanation enough, no jealousy required.
"And…" Lucy ventures with a raise of her brow.
"Well, if you two get married, you'll practically have the same name…Luke…Lucy," he says, and she snorts with laughter.
"I'll keep that in mind, Logan," she jokes, emphasizing the L in his name, nearly rolling her eyes at how not jealous he is.
xxxxx
"I need a word," Lucy says, an argument having broken out again, as soon as Wyatt had entered back into room with a reckless plan for Judith.
He's left with no choice but to follow Lucy into the next room over, but heels dug in, and unwilling to budge from his stance.
"We can't risk this. She's too important to history," Lucy pleads, her eyes wide with conviction.
He steps towards her, as if holding himself back, but she doesn't flinch from her position.
"I cannot do my job boxed in like this, worried about knocking over a salt shaker and somehow changing history," he says, his face contorted in something resembling anger, but she can tell there's more than that lingering behind the mask he's choosing to wear.
She straightens, unsure of what he's trying to convince her of. She's more than aware how easily history can change - the vanishing of her sister, the diamond planted on her hand, and that's just in the last few days. The shifting of the present had been something that she'd had to accept several times over in her life, waking up one morning to everything she'd planned suddenly ripped from her, forced to adjust to a new reality.
"This is not a game," she warns, and she knows he can tell it's not just this history that she's talking about. The one surrounding them also precariously in flux as they navigate their situation, floating pieces, unsure of where they fit.
"I agree," he admits, like a ghost of his past staring back at him. "Which is why if I have a shot to take out Flynn, I'm gonna take it, whether I have to do that alone or not."
Going head to head with him, she leans forward so he can hear her in their hushed whispers.
"I don't take orders, Wyatt. I'm not a soldier," she sneers. "That was your choice, not mine. You're not taking her."
With a shake of his head at her confession, he gathers his jacket off the bed, leaving her standing there, blatantly ignoring her argument.
xxxxx
"What are you doing here, anyway?" She asks, popping another grape into her mouth, not quite ready to forgive him for yesterday, but unsure as to how he was sitting next to her right now. They usually had different lunches.
"Showed up late," he says with a shrug, and a grimace of pain briefly flashes over his face at the movement, so quick she's almost not sure she saw it, before his lips settle into that grin she can't stop seeing even when she closes her eyes. "Figured I might as well eat before heading to class."
"You don't even have any food," she quips back, finding him with only a coffee cup sitting in front of him, but wanting to make it clear in her tone that she didn't support him skipping class. Although it did comfort her to know it wasn't just her he managed to show up late for.
"And yet," he says grabbing another grape. "I seem to be eating," he finishes with a wink.
"You seriously skipped class to eat with me?" She asks before she can catch her words, the urge to kick herself never more present, as he so easily picks up on her distinction, one he hadn't made. She hates how easily she seems to fall into his charm, unable to stay mad at him.
"Oh, no. I didn't know you were in this lunch."
"Oh," she says, her cheeks lighting up in a blush. "Right, of course, you were just…"
"I'm kidding, Lucy," he says with a smirk, which in turns causes her to give off a laugh, a big toothy grin playing on her lips, that catches his attention, lighting up his blue eyes to a color she'd have to identify later.
He slides his cup in front of her, and she scrunches her nose, to which he laughs.
"It's tea," he says. "Consider it a peace offering."
Lucy tries to hold the shock from her face. Taking a sip from the cup, she finds it's not just tea, but her favorite, chai. She can't believe that he remembered. It had been an offhand comment she'd made one time during one of their sessions. And here he was, discernibly showing her that he was trying, that he wanted to know her.
"Look, about yesterday," he starts, and she finds herself holding her breath for what he's about to say. "I didn't mean to be late, and had I known, I would've found a way to let you know. I uhh, I wasn't even at school, I just came in to turn in my history paper and went to the library right after. I'm sorry."
She wants to stay mad at him, to shield herself from his charm, ward off any feelings she had begun to harbor for the guy in front of her. But she can't. Her hands warm underneath the heat of the tea, tingling her fingers.
"It's okay. It wasn't…I was having a bad day, and I heard something, and it just set me off, and…I took it out on you, so I'm sorry," she says, running her warm fingers through her hair, pushing her curls to one side.
"Hmm, and what exactly did you hear?" He asks, grabbing another grape, but not immediately putting into his mouth. He rolls it around between his fingers, trepidation in his actions for what it was that she heard, almost like he expected it to be about him.
She wants to tell him, but a part of her knows that badmouthing Jessica probably wouldn't go over well, and she doesn't want to put them right back where they had been yesterday - an insecure feeling bubbles up inside of her.
She was just a tutor.
"It's not important," she dismissively answers, looking down, examining her own food.
He opens his mouth to respond when Luke walks up holding his lunch.
xxxxx
Watching Wyatt walk off, defeated from the betrayal of Judith, shoulders slumped, hand coming to touch where he had been hit, she can't help but feel bad for him, despite being right about the situation. She holds back her I told you so, and instead follows after him down to the lobby of the hotel.
She sees him standing against the counter, dictating a telegraph. Quietly, and carefully in her heels, she walks up behind him, wondering what it is he's doing, exactly.
"…and know that you love her more than anything," she overhears, stopping her dead in her tracks. The realization of what he must be doing leaves her breathless, her hand tingling as she silently holds her breath. Tears spring to her eyes, and she wiggles her fingers, her nails digging into her palms.
When he turns, he finds her standing there, having heard what he said, although he can't be sure just how much.
He looks broken,the telegraph a last ditch effort to get back to a time he was happier. His face creases, still young, but different than the last time she was able to trace over every line when he smiled, when he cried. The worry lines more frequent, creased from events she knew nothing about.
"It worked in Back to the Future 2," he shrugs, trying to play off the seriousness of the situation.
"Wyatt," she calls out to him, as she tries to brush by her. Stopping, he turns to face her.
"I know what you're gonna say," he sighs, tucking his hands into his pockets, shielding himself from her.
"No, you don't," she tries, because even back when they were inseparable, he'd laugh at how often she surprised him, despite knowing her so well. "I get it."
"Do you?" His gravely voice shaking at her admittance.
"Yeah, I would do anything to get my sister back, so I get it, you want to change things to stay with Jessica," she explains, attempting to keep the flinch away from her face at having to admit it wasn't her that he was fighting so hard for.
He gives a soft laugh, shaking his head at her, like this wasn't ever how he pictured things going down. But in that moment, her heart clenches, even surely, as here as they are now, she knows that the pain of what happened still left her with a fragile heart, fractured but never healed.
"Look, about before, I'm sorry. I know you're just doing your job to keep history the way it's meant to be," he explains. And she nods, unsure of where he's going with this apology. "But I don't believe in meant to be or fate, Luce. Not in the way you do. Because if that were the case…" and he pauses, as she swallows the truth of his statement.
"You'd still be with her," she finishes for him, refusing to accept his belief.
"It's all just dumb luck and random chance, Lucy," his eyes say, searching her's as if they hold the answer to a solution he can't come up with.
She brings her lip between her teeth, listening to him essentially say that everything that had ever occurred between them was nothing more than happenstance, a roll of the dice. It's no wonder they ended up where they did. Where she saw it as a second chance, he was telling her that it was a coincidence, one he didn't care for.
She opens her mouth, searching for the right words to tell him that what they were was fate, was something that had shaped their entire lives, leaving them to meet again all these years later, but Rufus interrupts, leaving her to swallow her confession.
xxxxx
"Wyatt, I didn't think you were in this lunch," Luke says, taking a seat on Lucy's other side, so she's sandwiched between them both.
"I'm not," he answers, offering no further explanation, but she can see the clench of his jaw.
"Wyatt was just returning something of mine," she explains, trying to break up the awkwardness, which seems to have the opposite effect judging by Luke's affronted look and the smirk playing across Wyatt's face.
"Mr. Logan," says a man Lucy recognizes to be the P\principal. "Aren't you supposed to be in class?" He asks, and she's grateful that while she can see Wyatt's blue eyes roll, his back is faced toward the stern looking man.
Turning around in his seat with an impish grin, he plasters on a fake smile if she ever saw one.
"I was just heading there now," he says, in a tone that suggests he was placating him and everyone knew it.
"I suggest you get there," he says. "You don't have any strikes left," he warns, as if suggesting that Wyatt is here on borrowed time. This has Wyatt's hand coming to the back of his neck, and she can see the stress wearing on him, a slight redness to his cheeks, almost like he was embarrassed that she was hearing any of this.
Lucy can see the satisfied smile on Luke's face at Wyatt's reprimanding, only to quickly slip when Wyatt stands.
"I should get to class," he says, like the thought just occurred to him. His hand leans against the table, his eyes closing as if steadying himself, before leaning down, and she swears he grits his teeth as if in pain for a second. "I'll see you after school, Lucy," he says, leaving no question as to whether he was going to show up. "Promise," he whispers, his hand dancing over her own in his path to grab one more grape.
She sees him chew, gleaming back at her as he's escorted to class by the principal.
"Are you hooking up with that guy?" Luke asks, and Lucy's eyes go wide, not having expected that question.
"What? No," she answers quickly, hoping her curls hide the better part of her blush at the idea of her and Wyatt doing anything like that, although she can't say the thought hasn't crossed her mind. There's been many a night where Wyatt stars in her dreams, only to banish the feel of his hands from her thoughts the next morning, refusing to give weight to an idea so absurd. But then she wonders, what were others picking up on that perhaps she was too blind to see.
She chances a glance over at Luke, who seems like he doesn't quite believe her answer. "I'm…just his tutor," she explains, taking another sip of her tea.
xxxxx
A shiver runs through Lucy's body, having her crossing her arms around herself. She purposely walks one foot in front of the other, slowing down the process of undressing and heading home.
She ends up stumbling onto Wyatt, apparently doing the same, sitting on a chair, still dressed in his 60s attire.
"Hey," she says, unsure of where they stand at the moment, but unwilling or incapable of staying away.
He looks up at her, a deep sigh ready in his chest.
"Did your telegram work?" She asks, and he shakes his head.
"It was a long shot."
Sitting down next to him, uncrossing her arms, she leans over, her hands lacing together.
"Heading home to your fiancé?" He asks, the glittering ring hitting them both in the face.
"Something like that," she offers. "I had several missed texts from him," she says, raising her brow as if she expected Noah to somehow disappear when she came back. Judging by the clench of Wyatt's jaw, he was apparently hoping for the same.
Suddenly, he stands, and she finds herself peeking up at him through her dark lashes.
"You know, I umm, I never used to picture my wedding," she confesses.
He lets out a puff of air, like her words were sharpened, ready to aim right at his heart.
"No?"
"No," she murmurs. "I used to picture being married," she sighs, pursing her lips. "Knowing that someone loved me enough to choose me every single day, and that I felt the same," she finishes with a laugh. "Stupid, I know." And although she laughs, she finds herself swallowing back tears.
"Not stupid," Wyatt whispers. "You deserve that."
Looking up at him, she knows he means it.
"So what you're saying is I should probably find out Noah's last name, huh?" She teases, and he reaches for her hand, his touch feeling a bit like coming home, more so than she had felt in years, certainly more than the last few days. Pulling her up, he attempts to release her hand, but their fingertips grip each other, until slowly sliding away.
"You know how I feel about names," he says with knowing smile, as they walk together to find their every day clothes.
"I'll keep that in mind, Logan."
xxxxx
A/N:
OMGOODNESS, Y'ALL, WE'RE GETTING MORE TIMELESS! when i had said last time that i was hoping to write these chapters as we waited for news, i never expected it to come this quickly. so crazy. and let me tell you, while i'm never going to stop fighting for another season, i'm super pumped for this movie. my lyatt loving heart is prepared to melt twice with double the lyatt.
anyway, i hope you enjoyed this chapter. please, please, leave a review/comment, they are sometimes the only thing that encourages me to actually sit down and write, so they're much appreciated.
thank you, thank you!
