7.

Tim and Lucy didn't talk later. By the time she had sorted out the students and sent them back to their respective cabins, he was back asleep – at least that's what she thought.

The reality was that he was just pretending, hiding, not wanting to have the conversation that she was proposing because he was scared of screwing it all up. Lucy may have called him courageous but pretending to be asleep after telling her that he can't stop thinking about her, was pretty cowardly, and for that he's ashamed.

The following morning was a whirlwind of activity. They had to get up early to ensure they were up and ready before waking the students and then the chaos began. There was the group breakfast and a scavenger hunt before all the chaperones had to round up the unruly students, ensuring they didn't leave anything behind, before herding them onto the bus. It was so hectic, Tim barely had chance to exchange more than a few words with Lucy. Even though he's partly to blame for "going to sleep" the night before, it was still frustrating in a way he can't quite articulate, the tension from the previous night simmering just beneath the surface, so much left unsaid.

By the time they were all on the bus, with the kids either chatting noisily or passed out against the windows. Tim ended up sitting next to Lucy, the only available seat, and the air between them felt thick with unspoken words. What he doesn't realise is the other chaperones purposely left that seat for him. "Relieved it's over?" Lucy asked, breaking the silence. Her voice was light, but her brown eyes betrayed a flicker of something deeper.

Tim shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring the tightness to his chest. "It could have been worse."

She chuckled at that. "That's high praise coming from you."

Most of the bus journey was silent between them. It wasn't uncomfortable but charged with something neither of them could name. Every so often, their arms brushed as the bus bumped along the uneven road, and each time it would send a jolt through him. He couldn't help but wonder if she felt it too.

They did make small talk. About the trip mainly – the students, the activities, the food – and also silly pointless things like commenting on the weather. Stupid really when they live in L.A. and the only interesting thing that could happen weather-wise would be if it rained. It was a distraction though, a way for neither of them to broach the real subject hovering between them. The awkwardness did grow because of that, and he was thankful when the arrived back at the school.

When they stepped off the bus, they were immediately pulled in different directions, thanks to teachers and students demanding their attention. Tim barely caught a glimpse of Lucy before she was swallowed up in a group of their co-workers. He did experience a pang of disappointment because of this but he pushed it aside, focusing on his own various tasks.

He didn't notice how she watched him walk through the hallway, how she smiled because he was carrying his cane under his arm, his limp minimal. They did leave together after he messaged offering her a lift. He did note how quickly she accepted his offer.

Tim waits for Lucy now by his truck, leaning against the driver's side door, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in his chest. When she finally appears, her bag slung over one shoulder, she gives him a small, grateful smile that does nothing to calm his racing heart.

The drive is uneventful. They talk about the trip again, rehashing the same surface-level topics from the bus ride, and even though Tim wants to say more, to address the elephant in the room, the words stick in his throat.

When they step out of the elevator in their apartment block, they both walk slower than their usual pace, like they don't want the interaction to end, like they're scared in that it ending tonight would mean something bigger. But it has to end because it's not long before they're standing outside their apartments, and the space between their doors suddenly feels much larger. "Goodnight, Tim." She says quietly, tucking a lock of her dark hair behind her ear, before heading inside.

"Goodnight, Lucy." He murmurs, watching her until she disappears through her door.

The moment he closes the door to his own apartment behind him, he feels restless. He drops his back to the floor and starts to pace the small space, running a hand through his hair as his mind races faster than he can keep up.

He thinks about the kiss they almost shared, about the way she'd looked at him last night, about the way his chest had tightened when she sat next to him on the bus. He thinks about everything they've unearthed together. The vulnerability, the trust, the connection, and it terrifies him as much as it exhilarates him. For a long moment, he stands frozen, torn between wanting to be brave and wanting to hide.

Finally, he takes a deep breath and decides to be brave.

He opens his door, only to freeze in his tracks. Lucy is standing there, her hand raised as if she was about to knock. "Lucy…" He mumbles, his voice rough with emotion.

"Don't speak." She says quickly with a hint of a tremor. Before he can process what's happening, she steps forward, pushing him back into his apartment and shutting the door behind her.

And then she's kissing him.

It's not tentative or hesitant. It's affectionate yet explosive, a collision of want and need and pent-up tension. Her hands grip his shirt, pulling him closer, and for a moment, Tim is too stunned to react.

But then he does.

He kisses her back with equal fervour, his hands finding her waist, pulling her flush against him. The kiss deepens, growing more urgent, more consuming, until he feels like he's drowning in her.

They stumble slightly, and before he knows it, Lucy is pressed against the door, her back hitting the wood with a soft thud. He braces his hands on either side of her, caging her in, and kisses her with a hint of roughness that makes her gasp against his lips. It's like it's truly just hit him how much he has wanted this, no, needed this. He was so frightened by his demons and his past, that he ignored his desires. He thought he was out of practice, and in a lot of ways he is, but it turns out it isn't too hard when his body takes over. "Tim…" She murmurs breathlessly.

He pulls back just enough to look at her, his eyes searching hers. "Is this okay?" He checks in, his voice now low and gravelly.

She nods quickly, her hands sliding up to cup his face. "God yes." She whispers before pulling him back down to her.

Her fingers tangle in his hair, and he lets out a low groan when her nails scrape his scalp, his resolve crumbling further. He trails kisses down her jawline, her neck, the delicate curve of her shoulder, revelling in the way she shivers beneath his touch. For a moment, everything else fades away. The fear, the doubt, the scars of his past. It's just her, warm and real and beautiful, and for the first time in a long time, he feels like he's exactly where he's meant to be.

Maybe he isn't as abnormal as he thought. Maybe he doesn't need to feel guilty about things that happened out of his control. Maybe it's okay for him to be happy and to move on with his life.

This all runs through his head, making him freeze as reality crashes back in. "Hey." She murmurs, running her thumb over his cheekbone to swipe a tear he hadn't realised had fallen away. "What's wrong? Is this too much?"

"No, this isn't too much. It's what I want." He reassures. "I think it's just hit me just how much I wanted this. It's also reminded me that I've been punishing myself for too long. That I've wasted so much of my life."

"Well, you're here now." She lowers her hand to his chest, and she rests her palm against his ribcage over his heart, feeling how it beats so fast. "We can't change our pasts, Tim. But we can enjoy the present and look forward to the future."

"That's a pretty therapist-y thing to say." He attempts to tease.

"Yeah, well, you'll have to get used to me saying things like this." She smiles and he smiles right back at her. "Because I'm not going anywhere."

A pleasant silence settles between them…

"Did you want to take a walk?" Tim asks, his voice steady but his gaze cautious, testing the waters. "I need to go pick up Kojo from the sitter. It's about a fifteen-minute walk away."

Lucy tilts her head, her lips curving into a smile that's both warm and teasing. "I would like that."

He nods, stepping towards the door. His hand brushes the cane resting against the frame, but he doesn't pick it up. Instead, he glances at Lucy, who's watching him with a mixture of curiosity and understanding.

He leaves the cane where it is.

Their eyes meet, and she raises an eyebrow, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. "Guess I don't need it." He decides.

"No, I guess you don't." Is her kind reply, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer.

It's a small thing, leaving the cane behind, but to Tim, it feels monumental. A symbol of how far he's come, not just physically, but emotionally. The limp is still there, slight and almost imperceptible, but it's more habit now than necessity.

How could he feel pain with Lucy walking beside him?

They step out into the crisp evening air, the city alive with the hum of distant traffic and the occasional bark of a dog. For a while, they walk in comfortable silence. Tim's hands are tucked into his jacket pockets, his pace steady, while Lucy keeps her arms crossed loosely, her steps in sync with his. He wants to hold her hand, but it's probably too risky, especially if they pass one of their students. "It's a nice night." She remarks, looking up at the clear sky, where a few stars peek through the haze of city lights.

"It is." He agrees, but his focus is on her. The glow of the streetlights catches in her hair, and for a moment, he's struck by how effortlessly beautiful she is.

They reach the end of the block, and Lucy speaks again. "So, Kojo has a sitter? I didn't know that was a thing for dogs."

Tim chuckles. "It's not really. It's just a friend of mine who watches him when I'm out of town or tied up. He loves it there though. They have a big yard and lots of squirrels to chase."

"Sounds like the dream for a dog."

"He deserves it." Tim comments. "He's been with me through… a lot."

Her expression shifts, her smile fading slightly as she looks at him. "He's lucky to have you."

Tim doesn't respond right away, his eyes fixed on the sidewalk ahead. "Sometimes I think it's the other way around." He admits.

Lucy doesn't press, sensing the weight behind his words. Instead, she slips her arm through his, a small but significant gesture that makes his breath catch.

They walk like that for the rest of the way, her arm looped through his, the silence between them no longer heavy but comforting.

xxx

After collecting Kojo, Tim and Lucy walked him through the park, giving him some off the leash time before returning home. They stopped first at a food truck that was parked around the corner from the apartment block when they both realised how hungry they were. They ate burritos whilst sitting on a bench, with Kojo sniffing at them hoping for them to drop some scraps. "Not the most romantic first date." Tim noted with a grimace on his face. "I promise I'll take you out someplace nice next time." He said, making butterflies flutter in Lucy's stomach. "Although I am a bit out of touch about what's nice around here anymore."

She told him not to worry. Not with words but with a delicate kiss to his cheek.

When they got back to the familiar hallway between their apartments, he invited her in, before blushing because of what it sounded like. She laughed sweetly and accepted his offer after a quick shower and to change into something cosier.

It's about half an hour later when the knock on his door comes and after calling out that it's open, she finds him stood at his kitchen counter pouring two glasses of red wine. "Wine?" She questions sceptically as she steps inside, taking the door of the latch as she does.

Lucy's wearing a pale blue sweatpants and cropped hoodie matching set, her hair tied up messily. She's the image of relaxation and suddenly Tim's grey sweats and plain t-shirt seem understated. "It was a gift from a parent before the holidays. She said I bring out the best in her son." He explains but then shakes his head. "I just coach him."

"You're being hard on yourself." She tells and there's a flicker of acknowledgement of this on his face. "What's the wine?"

"It's a Cabernet Sauvignon." He passes over her glass and then picks up his own. "I figured one glass won't hurt."

"Well this does feel like a special occasion." She decides with a cheeky smile, remembering a previous conversation about his relationship with alcohol.

They turn then to his living area and straightaway an issue stares him in the face – he doesn't own a couch. "Ah." He sounds, almost glowering at his armchair that has served him well over the years but doesn't quite fit the look of the evening. They could make the short journey to her apartment to resume on her couch, but it was him who invited her over.

Doubt casts over him, the nagging voice at the back of his head saying this sort of life isn't for him, but then she places a hand on his forearm and that negativity disappears into thin air as if she's a magician. "It's okay. We will make it work." Tim then lets her lead him to the chair. "Looks comfortable."

"But how…?"

"Tim, you are going to sit in the chair, and I am going to sit on you." His lips form an 'O' shape when he grasps this, and his cheeks become tinted with pinkish hue from not following immediately. "Is that okay with you?"

"Definitely." He then sits down in a way that leaves her the most room possible. She doesn't hesitate to climb on.

Tim's lips twitch into a half-smile as Lucy makes herself comfortable on his lap, her legs tucked to one side and her wine glass balanced delicately in her hand. He shifts slightly, trying to find a restful position without jostling her too much. "This armchair is comfortable." She remarks, her tone light and teasing, but there's something else there too – an intimacy that wasn't present before.

"I'll take your word for it." Is his reply. "I don't usually sit here with someone on top of me."

Lucy grins, taking a small sip of her wine. "Maybe you should. It's cosy."

He chuckles with a shake of his head. "I'll add 'get a couch' to my to-do list."

She tilts her head, studying him. "Don't change things on my account."

"It's not just for you." He murmurs, his gaze dropping to his glass. "I've been thinking about making this place feel more… lived in. I guess I never expected to have company."

"Tim…" she begins, but he cuts her off with a small shrug.

"It's fine. It's just how it's been." She looks at him for a long moment, her brow furrowing slightly as if she's about to say something, but instead, she leans back against him, resting her head on his shoulder.

They sit in silence for a while, the only sound the occasional clink of their glasses as they sip their wine. Kojo pads over from his bed in the corner, nosing at Tim's leg before curling up on the floor beside the chair. "See?" Lucy gestures to the dog. "Kojo likes the armchair too."

"He likes being close. Can't blame him."

Lucy shifts slightly, her movement drawing his attention. She's so close, her scent filling his senses. He's acutely aware of the weight of her against him, the way her fingers toy absentmindedly with the stem of her glass. "You're quiet." She observes, turning her head to look at him.

"I'm just… taking it all in." He confesses.

She smiles, a soft, genuine smile that makes his chest ache. "It's nice, isn't it? This."

"It is." He agrees, speaking barely above a whisper. For a moment, the world outside the apartment fades away. It's just the two of them, the faint hum of the heater, and the warmth of her body against his. "I don't usually do this."

"Do what?"

"This." He gestures vaguely with his free hand, careful not to spill his wine. "Let people in. Get… close."

Lucy sets her glass down on the small table beside the armchair and shifts so she can face him more fully. "Why do you think that is?"

Tim hesitates, his throat tightening. "It's just… easier, I guess. To keep people at arm's length. Less risk that way."

She reaches out, her fingers brushing lightly against his cheek. "But less reward too."

Her words hang in the air between them, and Tim feels something inside him shift. He sets his own glass down, his hand coming to rest on hers where it lingers against his face. "You make it seem easy." He reveals.

For a moment, he thinks he might kiss her. Her face is so close, her lips slightly parted, her eyes locked on his. But before he can act, she leans in and rests her forehead against his, her breath warm against his skin. "You make life feel easier. Better."

Tim's breath hitches when Lucy leans in, her lips brushing his so softly it feels like a whisper. The kiss is tender, unhurried, but it sends a spark through him that ignites something deep and long buried. He cups her face gently, as though afraid she might pull away, and kisses her back with the same sweetness.

But the sweetness doesn't last long.

Lucy tilts her head, deepening the kiss, her fingers threading through his hair as she shifts in his lap. Her body presses closer to his, and he can feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of their clothes. His hands move instinctively to her waist, steadying her as her lips move against his with increasing urgency.

The world narrows to the sensation of her – the way she tastes faintly of the wine they shared, the softness of her lips, the quiet little sounds she makes that send shivers down his spine.

She shifts again, straddling him fully now, and he feels a rush of heat as her weight settles over him. It's impossible to hide his reaction, and he tries to adjust, to move her slightly so it's less obvious, but she feels it. He knows she does by the way she stills for a moment, her lips hovering over his. Her eyes meet his, dark and filled with lust, and then she kisses him again, harder this time, as if to tell him it's okay.

Her hands roam over his shoulders and down his chest, exploring, and he can't help the way his fingers tighten on her hips, pulling her closer. His heart is pounding, his mind racing, but all he can focus on is her and how incredible she feels, how much he wants her, how much he's wanted her for longer than he's willing to admit. "Lucy…"

"Hmm?" She hums, her hands moving to cradle his face as she kisses him again.

"Will you stay?" He asks, his words soft and hesitant, like he's afraid of the answer.

She pulls back just enough to look at him, her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed. "Stay?"

"Not like that." He adds quickly, his hands falling to her sides.

Her expression softens, and she brushes his hair back. "Yes. I'll stay." Relief washes over him, and he pulls her in for another kiss, this one slower, filled with gratitude and something deeper he doesn't quite have the words for. "Let's just stay like this for a while." She whispers while tracing idle patterns on his chest.

And that's what they do. Wrapped up in each other, the outside world forgotten, they let the night stretch on, savouring the closeness they've both been longing for.