Chapter Three – The Library

The evening passed quickly, and before long, everyone had gone to bed. I stayed awake, restless. As hard as I willed sleep to come, it would not. Finally, I grew so weary of the skull contorting faces at me that I drew myself from bed and made my way downstairs. "Maybe a cheap novel will help me sleep," I said aloud. I entered the library and began looking at the shelves. Several books caught my eye, but I was suddenly not in the mood.

"Lucy?"

I whirled around to find Lockwood slumped in a chair. His legs were elegantly draped across the arm (as usual when I found him there). Although Lockwood is naturally quite pale, in the moonlight he resembled a visitor. Then, as I stared at him, I noticed that he had not slept that evening. He caught my gaze and quizzically looked at me.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"I can't sleep. From the looks of it, you can't either."

"Ah," he sighed. "I tried, but I got even more tired from trying. You're right, I haven't been to bed."

Lockwood stood up and moved to the couch. He nodded at the seat beside him, and I sat down. "So, what's keeping you awake?" I asked.

"Just the usual nighttime thoughts. Mostly thoughts about you."

"Me?" I glanced over at him.

Lockwood nodded and stretched back. "Yes, you. Sometimes you worry me, without even meaning to. And then I think about all the things that could happen to you, and so on. So here I am."

He let out a slow, soft breath and looked at me. He smiled at me, and I smiled back. Lockwood put his arm around me and pulled me to him. We sat there, huddled on the couch. I shuddered. A draft had filled the room. Lockwood looked at me from underneath his bangs. I shivered again. In a single flourish, Lockwood drew a blanket from somewhere and covered us with it. He smiled down at me, a smile filled with warmth, friendship, and something else that I couldn't make out. A new characteristic of his smile shimmered in the moonlight. I curiously studied his face, noticing all of his striking features. The mole on his neck, his white smile. I even noticed a new freckle that had formed on his cheek. I brushed it with the tip of my finger. Lockwood's head nuzzled against my touch. In the time that I'd been studying his face, I hadn't not noticed that he had been watching me back. Lockwood's smooth hand brushed my cheek. He pulled me closer to him. Lockwood leaned forward, his face inches from mine. My heart started to pound, and I was suddenly afraid that he'd hear it. And then, almost without shifting, Lockwood's mouth was on mine. His lips were firm, yet soft, warm, yet they sent a chill coursing through my body. My right hand slowly moved to the back of his head, softly gripping his dark hair. Lockwood's hand found its way to my cheek once again and rested there. He drew himself back as a smile found its way to his face. The warmth of his smile sent all of my nighttime thoughts away. I smiled back.

"You have no idea how long I've waited for this moment," Lockwood whispered.

I leaned my head on his shoulder, and he put a slim arm around me. All at once, sleep came, there on the couch in the library. I heard Lockwood let out a quiet breath, an almost inaudible sigh, as I drifted away on a cloud of sleep.