In the time it took Bruce to cross to the other side of the punching bag, Lucy's countenance had changed entirely, gone from the soft, self-conscious girl trying to keep from tumbling head over heels into someone more hard-edged, more determined. On her, it was more natural, the person she had started becoming three and a half years ago back in New York and settled into here. She was angles, not curves; bitter, not sweet, and sure as fuck not romantic. She hadn't been in a long time.
The thing with worries, too, was that they always begot more worries, and having reminded herself of everything, now, she was full of pent-up energy all over again, desperate for an outlet in the absence of one. She'd come close to having one better, but she could work with what she had. This was a little more sensible, at least. Jaw set, she drew in a deep breath, met his gaze, and nodded before turning her attention to the punching bag again. She took one swing, first, as if to test it out, pausing afterward, weight shifting to the balls of her feet, but threw a few more hard hits in quick succession after, trying to remember everything Kate had taught her, the few times they'd gotten around to ever meeting.
Kate was gone, now. Nate. Chase had gone and landed himself in the clinic, by being drunk and stupid and reminding Lucy entirely too much of her brother. He was gone, too, and Ryan, and Gert, and far too many others, and here she was getting swoony over one of her closest friends, when she had never thought she would want anything again.
It was a lot of aggression it left her with.
Only a few moments later did she realize that she was still moving at all, not even knowing how much she had just done, and stopped short, her breathing grown heavy. Of course she would go and get carried away here, in front of him, and though she cringed, she knew full well that she wasn't done yet, either. "I think maybe I should get one of these for myself."
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The thing with worries, too, was that they always begot more worries, and having reminded herself of everything, now, she was full of pent-up energy all over again, desperate for an outlet in the absence of one. She'd come close to having one better, but she could work with what she had. This was a little more sensible, at least. Jaw set, she drew in a deep breath, met his gaze, and nodded before turning her attention to the punching bag again. She took one swing, first, as if to test it out, pausing afterward, weight shifting to the balls of her feet, but threw a few more hard hits in quick succession after, trying to remember everything Kate had taught her, the few times they'd gotten around to ever meeting.
Kate was gone, now. Nate. Chase had gone and landed himself in the clinic, by being drunk and stupid and reminding Lucy entirely too much of her brother. He was gone, too, and Ryan, and Gert, and far too many others, and here she was getting swoony over one of her closest friends, when she had never thought she would want anything again.
It was a lot of aggression it left her with.
Only a few moments later did she realize that she was still moving at all, not even knowing how much she had just done, and stopped short, her breathing grown heavy. Of course she would go and get carried away here, in front of him, and though she cringed, she knew full well that she wasn't done yet, either. "I think maybe I should get one of these for myself."