"edmund," she says, and reaches into her pockets. "look."
edmund frowns at the things in her hand. "what is that?"
"shrooms."
"shrooms?"
"ben grows them in his closet. it's the last thing i took before i left his place." lucy asks, "do you want to do them with me?"
"what, now?"
"yeah."
"no," he snaps, and then he's angry, and that wasn't the point either, although his anger doesn't surprise her. "no! lucy, you're not doing shrooms. i'm not-- we're not tripping in the middle of the woods when we're running from the cops and--"
"i've tripped in these woods before!" lucy protests, her cheeks growing warm. "we weren't caught!"
"we're not doing shrooms first thing after you just broke up with someone," he hisses. "put those things away."
"they were the last thing i took from his apartment," she finds herself repeating, and to her horror her voice cracks and there are pinpricks of heat in her eyes that have nothing to do with being high. "he's going to be so pissed when he finds out. and like, good. they were--"
and then, to her even greater horror, she is crying.
"oh, lucy," edmund says softly as he wraps his arms around her. he lets her cry into his shoulder as she tries to stop, tries to say something, maybe to explain or to protest, but it just makes her cry harder. and she can't speak; there's nothing to say. edmund doesn't tell her to hush or that it's okay, and for this lucy is grateful. she doesn't want the condescension -- she isn't sure if she wants this hug he's giving her, but she doesn't know what she wants, only what she doesn't, and it's never any good trying to build a life out of what one doesn't want, out of negative space. so she lets edmund hold her, and lets him stroke her hair, and as much as she hates being the little sister sometimes, she loves having older brothers, one like peter, who is brave and passionate, and one like edmund, who is steady and observant, and neither of them afraid to be tender.
"i'm sorry," lucy blubbers.
"shut up," edmund tells her affectionately. "don't be sorry. and put those shrooms away before they, like, soak into your hand or something."
she had been clutching them in her fist as she cries, and she stuffs them now back into her pocket and mutters, "i don't think they work like that," though the truth it she isn't sure.
"do you want to go back?" asks edmund.
"not yet."
"okay. would you mind if i smoke a cigarette?"
"yes."
"okay." so he doesn't, continues to hold her instead.
2/2
edmund frowns at the things in her hand. "what is that?"
"shrooms."
"shrooms?"
"ben grows them in his closet. it's the last thing i took before i left his place." lucy asks, "do you want to do them with me?"
"what, now?"
"yeah."
"no," he snaps, and then he's angry, and that wasn't the point either, although his anger doesn't surprise her. "no! lucy, you're not doing shrooms. i'm not-- we're not tripping in the middle of the woods when we're running from the cops and--"
"i've tripped in these woods before!" lucy protests, her cheeks growing warm. "we weren't caught!"
"we're not doing shrooms first thing after you just broke up with someone," he hisses. "put those things away."
"they were the last thing i took from his apartment," she finds herself repeating, and to her horror her voice cracks and there are pinpricks of heat in her eyes that have nothing to do with being high. "he's going to be so pissed when he finds out. and like, good. they were--"
and then, to her even greater horror, she is crying.
"oh, lucy," edmund says softly as he wraps his arms around her. he lets her cry into his shoulder as she tries to stop, tries to say something, maybe to explain or to protest, but it just makes her cry harder. and she can't speak; there's nothing to say. edmund doesn't tell her to hush or that it's okay, and for this lucy is grateful. she doesn't want the condescension -- she isn't sure if she wants this hug he's giving her, but she doesn't know what she wants, only what she doesn't, and it's never any good trying to build a life out of what one doesn't want, out of negative space. so she lets edmund hold her, and lets him stroke her hair, and as much as she hates being the little sister sometimes, she loves having older brothers, one like peter, who is brave and passionate, and one like edmund, who is steady and observant, and neither of them afraid to be tender.
"i'm sorry," lucy blubbers.
"shut up," edmund tells her affectionately. "don't be sorry. and put those shrooms away before they, like, soak into your hand or something."
she had been clutching them in her fist as she cries, and she stuffs them now back into her pocket and mutters, "i don't think they work like that," though the truth it she isn't sure.
"do you want to go back?" asks edmund.
"not yet."
"okay. would you mind if i smoke a cigarette?"
"yes."
"okay." so he doesn't, continues to hold her instead.