"Look, if you want to go out and do dangerous things fine, whatever. But maybe do you think you can try and not get yourself killed? Do you think you can, for once, think of the fact that someone wants you safe and not fucking bleeding all over the place? It's like having to imagine your death every goddamn night." -Gabriel-
Lucy wants to kiss him right then and there, reassure him. And for more selfish reasons like making sure he would still hold her even with that edge in his voice. She’s heard it before, a sign that it could be too much and she doesn’t want him leaving. But, she doesn’t think kisses and arms wound tightly around each other will fix it. It won’t allay his fears or make the blood go away.
“I do think of you,” that’s the truth. She thinks about his soft hair, dark eyes and the way he smiles into the crook of her neck in the morning like she can’t feel the stubble on his mouth give it away. She thinks of him, tired, scrubbing his face the kitchen table with bruise colored rings under his eyes that she can’t fix.
“You keep me going, you know? I come back every night because of you.”
