For seventeen years, Lucy had considered herself to be a fairly collected, level-headed individual, always her parents' favorite, intelligent and displaying all sorts of promise. The war had turned that on its head. Where once she had maintained composure easily, instead she acted too quickly, without thinking, finding comfort where she could take it. She knew herself well enough to know that how soon she had fallen for Jude had had as much to do with Daniel's absence as his own personality, so outwardly charming; it had turned into something of a cycle, with people not replacing others, but filling gaps in her life, because she couldn't be alone. Here, where losses came about even more easily, the pattern had continued, Lucy seeking comfort wherever she could find it, be it in someone's bed or at the bottom of a bottle or both.
Despite the sensation deep in the pit of her stomach, the one telling her that this was serious, that he mattered, she had no doubt that to let anything happen with Bruce would just be another incidence of the same. It was that very feeling that made her stay where she was. He had acknowledged it, at least, which was something, and meant that she wasn't totally crazy. Whatever habits she had, there was nothing that said that there couldn't have been an overlap, actual desire as well as reckless acting out. The former would only have been cheapened by acting on the latter. She nodded in agreement.
"No," she agreed, "no, it wouldn't." That didn't mean that it wouldn't feel damn good in the meantime, a temporary fix for wounds this place had left them with, but he was right. She hadn't even been looking for anything, but his logic seemed more and more sound the longer she stood there, and she was left almost bewildered for it. She let out a short, mirthless laugh, though, one corner of her mouth lifting in a self-deprecating smile. "Believe me, impulse and grief have made me do a lot of things that aren't smart, so..." Trying her hardest to push down the regret she felt in doing so, Lucy stepped back once more, lips parted with her tongue pressed to her teeth in an attempt to keep from saying what came out anyway. "But I wasn't just imagining that, then?"
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Despite the sensation deep in the pit of her stomach, the one telling her that this was serious, that he mattered, she had no doubt that to let anything happen with Bruce would just be another incidence of the same. It was that very feeling that made her stay where she was. He had acknowledged it, at least, which was something, and meant that she wasn't totally crazy. Whatever habits she had, there was nothing that said that there couldn't have been an overlap, actual desire as well as reckless acting out. The former would only have been cheapened by acting on the latter. She nodded in agreement.
"No," she agreed, "no, it wouldn't." That didn't mean that it wouldn't feel damn good in the meantime, a temporary fix for wounds this place had left them with, but he was right. She hadn't even been looking for anything, but his logic seemed more and more sound the longer she stood there, and she was left almost bewildered for it. She let out a short, mirthless laugh, though, one corner of her mouth lifting in a self-deprecating smile. "Believe me, impulse and grief have made me do a lot of things that aren't smart, so..." Trying her hardest to push down the regret she felt in doing so, Lucy stepped back once more, lips parted with her tongue pressed to her teeth in an attempt to keep from saying what came out anyway. "But I wasn't just imagining that, then?"