Lilly had been lying in bed for at least an hour, pondering what was promising to be the most complicated conversation of her life. She hated "talks," shoving your guts out into the open just so they could be trampled on by someone you clearly shouldn't have trusted as much as you did. It was so much easier to hurt yourself than to let others hurt you. But as time went on, she growingly doubted that it was any less painful. So should she reveal this half-baked truth to Scotty? Did she love him enough to tell him the truth only to lose him? Worse, could she bear not working with him? Even if somehow this—this potential romantic thing—worked out, she certainly couldn't work with him anymore. It had to be against department rules, right? Was she ready to lose her partner to maybe gain a—what, a boyfriend? A lover? Another man that would leave her? She threw her pillow over her head. So maybe she shouldn't tell him she loved him. But she still had to figure something out. Something to explain why she couldn't just act like a normal human being around him anymore. Something that didn't bring up how she had snuck into his room and fallen asleep in his arms.
Using her last bit of energy, she sat up, readjusted her pillow, and plopped back down, all a bit more aggressively than she intended. She took a deep breath and sighed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of her hands, her arms, her legs, her eyelids. Her body had all about quit on her, kept awake only through the panicked buzzing of her brain.
Scotty was pacing. Throwing punches in the air to try and break the tension only before realizing the ridiculousness of it all and letting his hands settle on his head, tired and desperate.
How could he tell Lilly that he loved her? To her face? In public? Breakfast was a terrible idea. He couldn't even think of how to tell her if they were locked in an interrogation room together, a box with no windows and no escape but the truth. Maybe he should call her? It would be better over the phone. She could just hang up, not run out. He wouldn't have to see her face when she rejected him, when everything changed. Then they could just avoid each other. He stared at the phone on his bedside table. Just one button to push…and then what? What would he say? And how could he explain calling so late? Fuck it, I'm just going to do it. His body went first, grabbing the phone and bringing it to his ear before his brain caught up and shut the whole thing down. He put the phone back down and collapsed into bed. Despite his exhaustion, there was no way he would fall asleep tonight. Not that it would matter. Awake or asleep, there was only one thing on his mind.
Hours later, her brain had stopped its full-speed haul and was puttering on its last remaining energy, succumbing to the all-too-familiar exhaustion that was taking over. But as her eyes had finally closed, and sleep, if not peace, was near, one remote corner of her brain gave one last ditch effort to sort this problem out.
She suddenly had the overwhelming urge to call him. To bypass all of her logic, all of her defenses, all of the pointless scenarios running through her head.
What's the point of defenses if they're just defending this painful existence? Could confronting her emotions be any worse? Could she break any more? If she lost him, it couldn't be much worse than it was now, pushing him away, avoiding him at every turn.
In a sleepy haze, she propped herself up on her elbow, picked up the phone, and dialed, ignoring every last screaming voice of logic and reason.
He answered before she even had time to realize what she was doing.
"Hello?" He sounded groggy. Oh God. What had she done?
"Scotty, hey..."
The silence was terrifying. And with the adrenaline, all of her brain was back in full force. What was she doing calling him? She wasn't even drunk! Why hadn't she at least gotten drunk? What was she supposed to say? She only knew to at least say hello—hey.
She hoped still meant more than it should.
After an eternity, she had to end it, hang up. She couldn't do this. She couldn't believe she had thought she could do this. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—I don't know what I was thinking, I'll see you—"
"Lil…"
Still silence followed. But now she knew she had to wait for what he would say. Now she knew they couldn't just dismiss this call.
Scotty was deciding. She had done what he couldn't. Maybe they could talk. Besides, he had to be there for her. He had promised. And he would always keep that promise.
He could be as brave as Lilly.
"Can I come over?"
Before she knew what she said, it had already reached his ear on the other end of the line.
"Yes."
Author's Note: I know it's a little shorter than normal, and I'm still being bad about timely updates, so I apologize! I want to thank you for being so patient and encouraging-knowing you are reading truly means a lot!