radicalize | (no subject)

Ryan had held up alright through the night, not entirely surprised by the way the rain had come down after he and Marissa had seen those clouds roll in like that. It was that, the 'he and Marissa,' that implicit we, that had kept him awake long after sleep should have set in. She was there, she'd arrived. She would live. What that meant for him, for her, for any of them, he still hadn't figured out. If she wasn't in Newport, he didn't have to go to her. The way things worked, what Summer had said, though - she still needed saving. Marissa was on the island. He almost thought he'd dreamed it all.

He'd stayed in his hut. It was grey out, inasmuch as it was a color at all. Rain was a novelty, not necessarily the good kind, and this weather made El Nino look like a spring shower. He didn't know who would be out in it, why anyone would be, but his first thought was that it was Marissa. He waited a moment, sat on the bed and collected himself. At night, on the beach, that somehow seemed right, but here, to see her here, would have been more real and less at the same time.

Standing at last, he got up and crossed to the door, pulling it open. "Lucy," he said, a little surprised to see her. "Come in, get out of the rain." She was soaked through and he couldn't really imagine why she'd be out in this weather, but that could matter later. Now he simply ushered her inside and shut the door behind her, moving off at once to find a towel or something to dry her off, get her warm. "What were you doing out there?"

Lucy was too grateful to be getting in from the storm to notice if he sounded at all surprised. She shed her coat almost immediately, letting it fall on the floor temporarily beside the bag she'd carried over her shoulder. It had seemed a good plan at the time, but she was fairly certain that even the extra clothes she'd brought with her would be drenched now. They would dry, though, as would she. At the very least, she figured she'd be able to hang around for a couple hours.

"Um, to ask you something, actually," she answered, with what was very nearly a self-deprecating laugh. It shouldn't have seemed silly; she had a perfectly good reason for not wanting to stay at the treehouse, if the weather was going to continue like this. Still, though, she'd tried up until then not to push anything with their relationship, and while she didn't doubt him or anything, she didn't want to seem too forward, either. "Do you think I could maybe crash here for a little while, just until this storm passes? It's just, with the treehouse so far, I don't want to have to walk through this just to get to civilization."

"This... isn't exactly civilization." It wasn't precisely an answer either. Moving back over to her, Ryan slipped a towel around her shoulders. He didn't have anything against her staying, but he did have a lot on his mind, and it was a few more moments before he realized he hadn't really responded. "Yeah," he said quickly. "Sorry, yeah, of - of course. Stay with me."

It might have been a different statement some other time, on a day when he could have put more conscious thought into what he said to her. Right then, he only knew she wanted to stay and he wanted her there. It was better sometimes to be alone, but it seemed less and less real all over again. Being in the here and now was easier to manage when there was someone to be around for, to remind him where he was. Moving his hands to her arms, he leaned in to give her a quick kiss. "We need to get you dry."

"I had some dry clothes," Lucy replied with a laugh that was almost strained, gesturing with her foot to the bag she'd left on the floor, "but I don't think they stayed so dry." Being out of her coat was relief enough just then, anyway, almost as much as being inside and close to him, knowing she wouldn't have to head out in the storm again any time soon. The more she looked at him, though, the more he seemed to be distracted, and her lips curved into a slight frown. Probably it was nothing -- just the weather, as it had been her, or something else just as minor, but there was no telling in this place. "You okay?" she asked, as lightheartedly as she could. There was no reason to darken the mood if everything was fine.

The question startled Ryan as much as her appearance at the door had, his brow raising as he glanced away. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, I'm - I'm fine." He stood there a moment more before he pulled away. Until her clothes dried, she would need something else to wear, and turning away afforded him a moment to try and regain his composure. He needed that. He hadn't meant to let it show, but the whole thing had shaken him more than he would have expected. It didn't hurt, either, that it allowed him to turn his back to her as he added, "Marissa arrived. Last night. Out on the beach."

He'd been digging through his own clothes as he said it, trying to find something for her, but he stopped then. "You can - if you want, I might have something you can borrow." He didn't turn yet, though, hands resting on his duffel bag where he still kept his things.

It was probably best for the both of them that he was turned away from her when he said it, as for a split second, the look on Lucy's face was one of sheer panic. She trusted Ryan, moreso than she thought she'd let herself trust anyone, especially so soon, but there still seemed to be an inherent threat there, even if he wasn't saying so. She composed herself quickly, though. Logically, reasonably, it was good that Marissa was there. Marissa being on the island meant that, at least somewhere, Marissa wasn't dead, and that was just what Ryan had wanted. Lucy just had to convince herself that it didn't necessarily mean that her relationship with Ryan was over.

"That - that'd be great, yeah," she stammered, a little forced, but a noble attempt at sounding cheerful all the same. She took a step closer, but stopped herself, just in case. If it was going to have to end, she wasn't sure she wanted to know yet. He'd told her she could stay there; if he was breaking it off, that wouldn't have made much sense. Still, she had to ask somehow. "Was, um... was she okay? Not hurt, or anything?"

"No, she's -" Ryan stopped and shrugged, took a deep breath. Something about Marissa always left him in need of steadying after. "She's fine, she's... she's from just a day or two before me, so she never -" He almost wanted to tell Marissa about her future, or to convince Summer that she had to, so that if anything ever happened, if Marissa ever went back, it would all be alright. She'd know what to do or what not to do, and it would all come out okay somehow. This place was traumatic enough for the moment, though. It would wait. They had time.

Drawing himself from his thoughts, he glanced over at Lucy, a little bewildered by the distance now. "I left her with Summer," he said. "She's fine." He didn't know what to do, though, if there was anything he was supposed to do.

In that moment, there was little Lucy wanted more -- aside from this still somehow working out -- than to tell Ryan that it was okay if he wanted to go back to Marissa. It'd hurt, yes, but she could deal with it. She'd understand. Reuniting with a once-dead ex wasn't remotely the same as cheating on her with one of her best friends. This place did strange things, and if the two of them weren't meant to work out, they wouldn't. She had been through enough before that while she wouldn't have liked it, she'd be able to cope. Besides, she cared about him -- and, she presumed, he did for her -- enough to be convinced they'd be able to stay friends, anyway.

"That's good," she said instead, then took a deep breath, making sure to keep herself calm. If she was already resolved as to her position in all of this, it shouldn't have been so difficult to just outright say it. "It must've been nice, to see her again."

"Yeah," Ryan agreed, a little uneasy now and for new reasons he wasn't yet sure of. "And weird." He'd told himself over and over, Marissa was dead to Summer but not to him, but seeing her had struck him hard. It was a good weird, he though, but that didn't make it any less weird. "I mean, I thought... I guess I didn't really expect I'd ever see her again."

Drawing in a deep breath, shaking his head, he turned to face Lucy better. The distance there wasn't just physical, but that much, at least, he could close between them, moving toward her now. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Lucy answered, even managing a smile, reaching up to wring some of the water from her hair. The floor, she figured, would dry a lot faster than she would. "I mean, I've been drier, but it's just a little rain, right?" A hell of a lot of rain may have been a more accurate description, but it was close enough for her liking. She was avoiding what she supposed the question was really about, anyway. If he wasn't going to talk about it further, she wasn't, either. In staying with him, she'd probably get her answer, anyway. That he hadn't turned her away could suffice, for the moment.

That hadn't been what he'd meant, but he wasn't about to press the question. Probably he was just imagining something was off. Pushing away his doubts for the moment, he nodded. "Right," he said. "Never rains like this at home. Well, not often. I mean, every few years maybe, and then you can't get it to stop." It was alright by him, though. He didn't really care for the rain. The sooner it stopped, the better, so far as he was concerned. It just made everything depressing.

Maybe it was that, only that. Something in the weather had thrown them both. Stepping in toward her, he laid a hand against her waist and gave a little lopsided smile, more hopeful than anything else, his other hand slipping up to her cheek. "Long as you're sure you're okay."

There was an inexplicable relief in having him near her, and Lucy smiled again, more genuinely this time, her own hand settling just below his shoulder. He wouldn't have been touching her like that if he was about to break it off; there was no way. She may not have known him for an especially long time, but she knew him well enough to trust him implicitly in that respect. Really, she was sure that he would've told her sooner if it were ending, but that was all the reassurance she needed just then.

"Well, I'm okay now," she murmured, leaning into his touch. "This definitely beats walking miles in this sort of rain." She'd be lucky if she wasn't at least sniffling for the next couple of days, but she didn't want to start talking about anything else serious just then. It was too nice having his hands on her, knowing that, at least for the moment, they were alright.

There was something in that, something he wouldn't have known how to put into words if he'd tried and so he didn't try. She was close, she was smiling, and something as simple as that and the way her hand lay on his arm - it would have sounded so ridiculous aloud, saying how that got to him. It had been a long morning and a longer night, but that was what it took, apparently, to put him at ease. People talked about heartache and he'd felt that before, but this was different, a tension effused with warmth, not as fleeting as happiness. Something more, maybe, like content.

He didn't know how to say it, so he just kissed her instead, drawing Lucy close. All morning, he'd stayed by himself, wanting time to figure out his own mind, but this was what he'd needed.

As soon as his lips were on hers, she was moving closer to him anyway, her other arm sliding around to his back to hold him near her. She couldn't have asked for a better sort of comfort. Just then, in that moment, however brief it could have been, it didn't have to matter that she'd walked miles in the pouring rain, or that Marissa was there. What was important were his hands on her, the way their mouths met, the warmth that came from any physical contact when she'd been otherwise so cold. She might not have been saying it before, but this was what she'd wanted, anyway. After months of discontent on the island, she was never so at ease as she was in his arms.

Her eyelids fluttered briefly closed, and as much as she might've wanted to say anything, had any words come to mind, she didn't have it in her to pull away right then. She'd leave that up to him, whenever he decided to.

Once he'd begun, Ryan was in no hurry to stop or to do anything that would mean letting her go. Her clothes were wet enough, though, to remind him she needed to get dry. All those maxims about being out in the rain were probably nothing more than old wives' tales, but he didn't want her becoming ill on his account. Reluctant to stop all the same, smoothing his hand to the small of her back, he took his lips from hers only to kiss down her neck instead. He was prepared to continue, but her turtleneck got in the way. "Come on," he mumbled, leaning his head against hers, pressing a kiss just below her ear. "You're gonna get sick or something in these." Lifting his head to find her mouth again, eyes half-closed, he kissed her gently, not moving despite what he'd said.

Lucy was equally reluctant to move away, but he had a point and she knew it. She seemed to have made it through the rain alright, but that wasn't any reason to tempt fate. She'd be warmer, too, as soon as she'd shed these and put on warmer clothes. After one more brief kiss, she carefully eased back a couple of steps, grasping the hem of her sweater to pull it up before she paused. In New York, she'd never needed to be modest, but if it would've been pushing things too far, she had no desire to make him uncomfortable. He'd seen and kissed her while she was in a bikini, but that hadn't been in the confines of his hut.

In the end, though, she saw no reason not to go ahead. What she was doing ought to have been obvious enough, and he could always turn away if he needed to. Slowly, carefully, she tugged the turtleneck up over her head, discarding it on the floor by her coat when it was off. She'd a tank top on underneath, but the rain that had soaked through her other clothes left it plastered to her skin, doing little that it was meant to. Grinning, for a lack of anything else to do, she bit down on her lower lip. "You have a shirt?"

There was a vast difference, though, between a bikini and this. More fabric was involved and more layers, but on the other hand, things were actually coming off and it was a very short mental leap from that to other places. On the bright side, he reasoned, inasmuch as that was what he was doing, he wasn't thinking about Marissa anymore. "Uh, yeah," he said, nodding. "Over he- I'll get that for you. You can just put that -" He gestured vaguely, not really caring where it went, and headed over to pull out a t-shirt for her.

The gentlemanly thing to do, he knew, was not to look, even if he had seen her in less, not that the wet fabric made up much of a difference, but there were times when it was really difficult to be a gentleman. Handing the shirt to her, he smiled. "Here we go." Turning just a little away, he glanced around for somewhere to sit that wasn't his bed.

The tension that came from her removing her sweater was pretty impossible to miss, but Lucy wasn't sure quite what to make of it. Really, she was waiting for him. If he had any interest in doing more, she wouldn't have hesitated at all. She wanted to do this right, but also she was a nineteen year old girl who'd spent roughly a year and a half total sharing someone's bed. Going slow was as much her decision as his, but that didn't mean other options hadn't crossed her mind.

"You, uh -" she tried to begin, then cut herself off with what wasn't quite a laugh, shaking her head as she took the t-shirt from his hand. "Thanks." Deliberately looking anywhere that wasn't at Ryan, she slipped one arm out of the tank top's strap, then switched the hand his shirt was in to pull out the other, too. Then, finally, she tugged her own shirt up and over her head, tossing it in the direction of her sweater before she moved to put on his. Probably she ought to have turned away herself, in the few moments that her chest was left exposed, but she didn't quite find it in herself to. She had his shirt on quickly enough, anyway.

The trouble was, as soon as she had the shirt on, he pretty much just wanted to take it off her again, which, all things considered, was unproductive and she'd come over to be out of the rain and he was still dealing with the whole Marissa thing, so it was probably pretty inappropriate, too, but some things really just couldn't be helped, among them, his train of thought, which was hurtling pretty quickly over the side of a cliff into some interminable abyss of - he was past coming up with a decent metaphor, but it was something, something potentially problematic. Or not problematic. He didn't really know.

Possibly having her stay had been a mistake. He'd always intended to follow her lead, but sometimes something was a signal and sometimes it was just changing out of a wet shirt, and hell if he knew the difference. "No problem," he said, breathing in and slowly out. "It's a good look for you." He wouldn't have minded her walking around in his shirts more often.

As for Lucy, her problem was that she wasn't sure if it'd be crossing some line to send a clear signal, and that was the only thing holding her back. She'd doubtlessly need to be looking for another place to stay if she pushed him too far, and already she hadn't been thinking about sleeping arrangements. He had just the one bed, but if it was just the hut or that, too, that he was sharing with her, she couldn't yet be sure. She was in no position to be picky, either. She'd sleep on the floor if she needed to, but that didn't mean she wanted to.

"I could stand to dress like this more often," she replied, one corner of her mouth hitching into a smirk. What she had left of hers on, though, was still wet from the rain, which left her in only a slightly more awkward situation than removing her shirt had been. The modesty she'd been trying to maintain was rapidly declining, though, and so her grin stayed in place as her hand moved towards her waist, eyes remaining on him, this time. "You gonna be okay if I...?" She gestured with one hand down to her jeans. His shirt was long enough on her, at least, that it wouldn't be too revealing, but she figured she ought to ask.

"Yeah, I'll, uh, I'll be just fine," Ryan assured her, nodding. It seemed stupid and awkward to just keep standing there, nodding mutely at her, so he moved away to toss the bag back in the corner and sit at the end of the bed. If she felt comfortable enough to do that, he certainly wasn't about to object. It could only be a good thing. They were supposed to be comfortable with each other and they were, and anyway, it indicated a certain level of trust, and really, mostly, he just didn't mind her walking around only half-dressed, if that.

Lucy nodded once in agreement, then lifted his shirt just enough that she could unfasten her jeans, sliding them down just as slowly, almost carefully, as she'd undone the button and zipper. It wasn't exactly intended to be anything more than casual, but it was difficult to keep taking one's pants off as simple as that, even with her motivation to be rid of them. Really, she wouldn't have objected to him reading any more into it, either. A part of her was almost hoping for it, in fact, but she was trying to ignore that.

Having stepped out of her jeans, she left them in a pile on the ground, letting out an easy laugh as she took a step in Ryan's direction. The clothes would probably all dry faster if she laid them out properly, but there'd be time for that later. Just then, she didn't much care. She much preferred what little attire she had on. "Thanks again," she said, smoothing his shirt over her waist, "for letting me stay here, and all. If this keeps up, I really think I'd have gone crazy up at the treehouse." The rain didn't show any sign of slowing, either, and she was pretty sure she was glad for that. The more it rained, the longer she'd have an excuse to be staying with him.

"You don't have to thank me," he said, shaking his head. "I always want you around. And I definitely don't want you going crazy." He preferred her attire, too, even if he still held a quiet preference for even less attire than that. With her staying over for however long, though, he didn't want to do anything that would make her any less comfortable. Then again, with her staying over, his chances didn't look so bad either. Either way, he'd meant what he said. He always liked having her near. Nodding to the bed next to him, he smiled over at her. "Come on, sit, you've been on your feet enough today."

At his invitation, Lucy crossed to the bed to take a seat beside him, just slightly relieved. She had been on her feet for a long time, it was true, but joining him on the bed half-dressed like she was without being prompted seemed to her to be decidedly too forward. If he was offering, though, there was no way she could turn that down. "Well, as long as you don't mind, I think I'll be staying off my feet for a while, then," she half-laughed, tucking one bare leg up beside her so she could angle herself to face him better. "With this weather especially, I think I'm done walking for a while." She paused then, head tilted slightly to one side as she looked at him, and her voice lowered considerably before she spoke again. "The company helps, too."

"It does," Ryan agreed, smiling a bit. Shifting just a little closer, he stood the risk of falling off the bed if he tried to angle himself any better, so he leaned a hand against the bed, the other coming to rest against her hip. "Well, I... I think we can find ways to manage that. For a while." He broke eye contact to initiate contact of a different kind, leaning in to kiss her neck now that he could. His fingers skimmed against her skin, just below the hem of the shirt, and he changed his mind and his tack, sitting up to catch her mouth in a kiss. It wasn't as if he didn't know what he was doing in the general sense, but he didn't know at all when it came to her, not wanting to give the sense that he'd got the wrong impression, half expecting to get pushed away and told he'd crossed some line. It was difficult, though, to know just where the boundary lay.

Lucy had tried admirably not to let herself want more, but that was a difficult task when he was initiating contact like that and then pulling back. Without detaching her mouth from his, she reached out with a free hand to catch his wrist, holding his hand where it had been against her skin, propping herself up against the bed with her other. Even if he didn't want anything more, a little touching couldn't have been anything to protest. He'd been the one to start it, after all. If he didn't want to go past that, they could stay as they were and she wouldn't have had a problem, but it was at least close to an invitation to go farther, if he wanted to.

He wouldn't be the one to protest, that much was for certain. It was invitation enough for him. Breaking his wrist free of her grasp, Ryan slipped his hand beneath the fabric, smoothing over her skin to her waist. The position was all wrong. It kept them too far separate. He had half a mind just to pull her into his lap, but instead he edged backward, further onto the bed, tugging her after him, closer. His balance less precarious, he was free to lift a hand to the back of her neck, where it rested just a moment before sliding down her back. As he deepened the kiss, parting her lips with his own, his hand beneath her shirt traveled higher, teasingly slow.

She followed his lead easily back onto the bed, back arching under his hand, her own, now freed, resting on his neck. Now that they were moving faster, she had no desire to slow down. It had been too long, she'd waited too long, and while she could be patient, if need be, she didn't want to. Being only half-dressed to begin with wasn't doing much to help that. They were close, but she wanted him closer; he was touching her, but she wanted him to touch her more. The only way she could say that, though, unwilling as she was to pull away to speak, was to deepen the kiss further, her other hand reaching to grasp the hem of his own shirt, though not yet moving underneath it.

Whether or not he got the message didn't quite matter. He trusted Lucy to let him know if he went too far, and until she did, if she did, he meant to keep going. He had no problem waiting, if that was what she wanted, if that was what was needed, but he sure as hell wasn't going to wait a moment longer than that, not if the moment was right. What he needed then was to keep touching her, keep feeling her beneath his hands, beneath his mouth, beneath him. Easing her down onto the bed, onto her back, Ryan leaned over her, his weight on one arm, a leg between both of hers. A little more certain of where he stood now, he let his hand slide higher, tracing between them as he kissed her, all his movements more relaxed now. As long as he could hold out, he intended to take his time and enjoy this.

For her part, there wasn't a too far that he could go to, and she was beginning to get the impression more and more that he was after the same thing she was here. At times, it surprised her that she'd waited this long already, but none of that mattered just then. All she could do was focus on his mouth over hers, and his hand between them, and she was more than content to do so. Eyes falling closed, she drew in a deep breath, her own fingers finally sliding up and under his shirt to press against the warm skin of his back, trying to bring him just a little closer without upsetting his balance. The last thing she needed to do now, with where this looked to be heading, was to make the whole situation suddenly awkward.

More than simply relaxed, he moved with a kind of confidence, fingers skimming over curves, his thumb brushing circles over her skin as he let himself be drawn closer. He wanted to be closer still. It seemed absurd, if distantly so, that he'd been so intent on getting her in dry clothes when now he just wished her out of them. Breaking away, he pulled back just far enough to look at her properly. "God, I want you," he murmured, affection mixing with desire. A moment later and he turned his attentions elsewhere, pressing a lingering kiss to her throat and trailing slowly downward, his hand sliding lower, following suit. There were a lot of things he might not have known how to put into words, but he could try, at least, to show her.

Although Lucy had come to find herself consistantly at ease around Ryan, moreso than anywhere else, she didn't think it possible for her to be more relaxed than she was just then, still in bed, curled up beside him with the rain continuing to pour down outside. There'd been times when she'd wanted to move faster, and a few moments when she'd wanted to keep it slow, but whatever she'd wanted before, just then she didn't think it could've been better timed or more appropriate if they'd planned it to start with. Marissa was there, the weather was shot to hell and the island continued to be as fucked up as ever, but the two of them were alright -- better than alright -- and in that moment, nothing else mattered.

One arm draped over him, the other half-propping her up, she smiled fondly as she looked at him, nothing short of content. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," she half-laughed, her voice low, just loud enough to be audible. "Guess it's a good thing I decided to ask to stay here, huh?"

"I would not have objected to doing that sooner," Ryan assured her seriously before giving a wry laugh, leaning forward just enough to kiss her shoulder. Now that they had, he didn't exactly have any objections. The rain continued battering down inside, but that just made him all the more comfortable where he was, lying on his side, a hand resting at her waist. He couldn't suppress a smile of his own and wouldn't have tried, lifting his head to look adoringly over at her. "And you are always, always welcome to stay. And not just for that, although I wouldn't say no."

While she'd stopped worrying about going too fast around the time he he had his hand under her shirt, it was reassuring to hear, almost vaguely bemusing, with as concerned as she'd been that she'd be pushing things. It had probably been silly to worry. Just then, she couldn't bring herself to feel anything but content, anyway. "Well, I'm clearly glad to be here either way," she replied with a smile that mirrored his. "Maybe this rain isn't such a bad thing after all." She found herself, for just a moment, hoping that it'd last a while, but pleased as she was, she was unable to think as far as what would happen when it stopped. All it would've been was a reason to leave his bed, anyway; with the way the day had gone so far, it had become more than fairly obvious that they weren't breaking up any time soon.

"I may have to change my mind about rain," he agreed. He'd never liked this kind of weather before, but this, he could get used to. "Maybe we'll just be stuck here a while." He gave a soft laugh at the idea, bringing his hand up to her cheek. In practice, it probably would have been pretty annoying, that happening, but right then, it seemed like a nice idea. He wouldn't have minded just spending a while right there with her, just them and no one else in the world. Sooner or later, he would have to move, check in on Marissa, give Summer a relief from what had to be difficult for her, but he was in no mind even to think of it then.

"I'm pretty sure I'd be okay with that," Lucy murmured, leaning in just enough that the tip of her nose could brush his. She was absolutely certain she'd be okay with that, in fact, but that was clear enough in the sound of her voice. Rain like this was a phenomenon she'd grown up with, but become unaccustomed to in her year on the island. She'd found it annoying, on her walk over. Now, she was nothing short of grateful for it. If walking miles in a storm led to them in bed like this, she'd do it any day at all, if only to feel like she did just then.

Ryan tipped his head forward to close the distance between them, fingers brushing over her cheek as he kissed her. Unlike before, there was no sense of urgency now, every move gentle, even tender. "Yeah?" He smiled, a little wry. "Just you and me, surviving in the wilderness. Probably starve to death or something, but it'd be fun for a while," he teased.

"I could always send you out hunting," she teased in return, the thought absurd enough that it was difficult not to laugh. "You could have, I don't know, a spear or something, and I could build a fire to cook over." Pausing, she crinkled her nose a little. "It'd have to be inside, because of the rain, but I think it might work." Really, she didn't know what she'd have done without the luxuries of the Compound, simple as many of them were. It was, at least in part, why she'd asked to stay with Ryan to begin with. What she'd gotten instead was definitely better.

"Yeah, and then we'd really starve," Ryan said, laughing. "That is not something we learn to do in Chino. We barely even have trees." Resting now with his head near hers, he slid his hand down to the small of her back. As often as they'd just spent time together, hanging out, there was something more intimate about this that went beyond sex. There'd been other girls before, but it had never been like this after, so relaxed, so content. It was something he could grow used to. "And I don't know, somehow I can't see you slaving away over a hot fire."

"Point," Lucy allowed, still grinning cheerfully despite keeping her voice low. "We'll just have to starve to death." Teasing or not, she really couldn't find it in her to move just yet. It wasn't exactly out of the ordinary for her -- she'd spent a summer content in Jude's bed back in New York, and another four months here -- but it felt like it was, with how long it had been. The two of them, Ryan and Jude, weren't even comparable, anyway. This was more relaxed, devoid of the underlying threat that Lucy had brought with her to Manhattan, and Ryan wasn't anything like the guy Jude had turned out to be.

His fingers traced varied circles over her skin, absentminded, and he seemed to consider the possibility of that death, nodding from one side to the other. Coming to a conclusion with a shrug, he said, "I can think of worse ways to go." Saying it, though, stirred a thought of just that - of how he hadn't -, and he kissed her again instead of letting that come to the surface. For once in his life, he felt, he deserved to be happy without interruptions, if only for a while. Someday they would move again and go out, back into the world, such as it was here, but right then, this was enough, more than enough.

Lucy could think of worse ways to go, too, but rather than letting herself dwell on that, a war in another world that it was hopeless to protest now, she just leaned into the kiss, preferring the contact to that line of thought. With as happy as she was, she didn't need to burden herself with thoughts of dead former boyfriends or the brother she wasn't speaking to. She'd never give up her fight, not really, but she had reason enough to settle herself down for a while, and that made all the difference.

"I could think of worse places to be in general," she mused, her hand lifting to run through his hair again, just for the sake of touching him more. It hardly even seemed right to let herself start thinking in that direction, though, so she leaned in to kiss him once more. What mattered was that they were there; it wasn't worth it to waste her time thinking about worse alternatives.

Shifting so he could move the arm he'd folded between them, Ryan reached up to cup her neck, slipping his hand higher up her back to draw her closer, kiss her deeper. That was all that really mattered for the moment. Everything else could come later. "Yeah," he murmured, leaning his forehead against hers, "but can you think of anywhere better?" That was the real test. At that moment, finding her lips for another kiss, he was drawing a blank.

His lips were on hers again before she had a chance to respond, but Lucy absolutely couldn't, and that was probably evident in the way returned the kiss, easily moving closer when prompted. Just then, she wouldn't have even gone home if she was able, a thought which would have startled her had she not been in Ryan's bed and kissing him. If only for a moment, there were no lives to save, no battles to fight; it was the two of them, the warmth of his skin and the rain outside, making everything else inconsequential. "Nowhere," she assured him when they broke the kiss, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth again. "Nowhere at all."

For a few moments, Ryan just looked at her, brushing hair back from her face, smiling back at her. "Yeah," he said. "Me neither." Summer had promised him a good future back in Newport, but it had been one he'd wanted to change. There was nothing about here and now that needed to be any different from what it was. He was at peace here in a way he couldn't remember being at home, not for a long time, maybe not ever.

"Good," Lucy replied, her smile widening a little as she continued looking at him, her thumb brushing over his skin when she rested her hand on his jaw. "Sounds like we're agreed, then." She didn't hesitate, then, before leaning in to kiss him again, if more briefly than the one preceding it. Probably it was in part because they'd waited so long to even kiss, and then longer still to wind up in bed together, but she wasn't backing off now. It might not have been justifiable as making up for lost time, but she could maintain the physical contact anyway.

With a hand in her hair, he drew her back toward him even as she came to him of her own accord. There couldn't possibly be an argument in the world to be made against this. They'd both waited long enough - not just for this, for each other, but for something decent to come along after so much had gone wrong for them both. Fingers pressing lightly against her skin, he leaned in to kiss her again, not yet ready to stop.