Because of Lucy

by Swallow, Lisa

  “She won’t keep taking them, if I don’t help her,” he presses.

  I clench my teeth, so I don’t open my mouth and say something wrong, so nod instead. A nineteen year old guy shouldn’t be responsible for his sister. I have to push this. Lucy isn’t the only one who needs an advocate.

  “Doesn’t she have a doctor? A psychiatrist? Or someone.” Someone else. Not you.

  “Yeah, but she misses appointments and slips through the cracks if no-one reminds her. They’re overstretched - don’t have time for people who don’t want to help themselves. Until things get really bad. Then they have to do something.”

  Evan’s fidgeting with the serviette holder, drifting away again. Talking about this now, so soon, isn’t what he needs from me. I plunge into my head, grasping at something to say, anything as long as the words are a million steps away from the subject.

  “We should take a drive out somewhere again today? Get away?” I say.

  Evan smiles, stiffened shoulders dropping. “Escape for a few hours? Count me in.”

  ****

  We seize a day of escape, return to the town we went to on our first date. Date. The word sounds so quaint, but I guess that’s what the day was. Our beginning. So we go back to our happy place, distant from any part of Evan’s nightmarish world of the last week. Walking hand in hand along the canal, our breath mists in the air. The serenity of the situation fills me with warmth, an excited tingling flowing through me from being close to Evan again. The new Evan who’d always been underneath.

  We eat fish and chips by the low river, listen to the water’s path over the rocks and feed the ducks swimming against the current towards us. In the warming December sun, we snuggle together and talk, about everything and nothing. Everything from our normal lives and nothing from the darkness. Evan’s face gradually loses the haunted expression he brought into the cafe this morning. Every time he holds me tight, I want to stay in his arms forever. Stay here. Never let him go back to his pain.

  “If only every day can be like this,” I say, popping another fat chip into my mouth.

  Evan hugs me to him and kisses my hair. “Fish and chips every day? We’d die of heart attacks before we hit thirty.”

  Resting my head on his chest, I listen to his slow, steady heartbeat. “We’d get more than our three butterfly days.”

  Evan lifts my face towards his and rubs his cold nose against my cheek. “Three days with you wouldn’t be enough, I lied.”

  “Good.”

  His cool lips warm as soon as they reach mine, soft at first then an urgency comes with his kiss. The kiss of someone who’s missed the feel of your mouth on theirs. We squash together on the bench, the stinging cold on our faces burnt away by the heat of our embrace. As usual, my body inflames, the tingling I’ve carried inside all day turns to trembling. The intense physical need I have for Evan overwhelms me, amplified by the emotions I’ve shared with him recently. When he pulls back and strokes my face, his eyes burn with the same fervor.

  “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, Ness. You’re amazing.”

  Instantly the memory of the words returns. Breathed heavily in my ear, when we were entangled on my bed. The fire of the images colors my face, and in his I can see he chose the words deliberately. His smile, the small tug at the corner of his mouth I find so sexy disappears as he moves in to kiss me again.

  Later, we stumble back through the door, the winter evening threatening snow. I go straight to the tiny gas fire in the corner and light it. Evan blows onto his gloves and I rub mine on my legs. Northern winters demand thermals, not woolen jumpers. Of course the house is trashed, kitchen piled with dishes and cupboard empty. I have to send Evan for milk from the corner shop and he returns with a bottle of wine. We forego the tea and curl up together on the sofa. Saturday night, Abby will be home with a crowd by 2am. But here and now, we find more peace. Only the clicking of the gas fire and the gentle breathing from Evan surrounds me.

  I sip my wine and place the glass on the coffee table.

  “Thanks for today,” I say.

  I sit back and lean into Evan, holding his arm around my waist and holding his hand. He rubs his face into my hair and inhales. “Feels good to be with you, Ness.”

  I can’t tell him how overwhelming just having him hold me is; the physical pull he has which sent me straight to bed with him all those weeks ago. And now, with this new connection, I’m engulfed by him. So soon. I secretly hope the heartbreaking love he has for his sister leaves enough for other people. Maybe one day for me. Unable to find words, I shift around to face him, placing my hands against his chest. The warmth of his muscled shoulder invites me to push into him, kiss his neck. Evan strokes my hair lightly with his fingers.

  “I feel calm and safe with you,” he says, “Someone who finally understands, but doesn’t judge.”

  The past can’t encroach, not now, not in this moment. “You only had to let go to someone.” I say and kiss his neck, hoping to distract him. “Besides, I did judge you.”

  “You didn’t know me. Or understand. I didn’t want anyone to.”

  The neck kissing isn’t working so I slide my mouth past his ear and across his face, gentle kisses. “Thank you.”

  “What for?”

  “Being Evan with me.”

  “I’m looking for him. He got lost over the last few years.”

  I don’t want him to say these things, drag himself back to Lucy and his pain so I cover his mouth with mine. He understands, winding his hand through my hair and kissing me. His cool hands slide beneath my jumper and I jerk away. “That’s cold.”

  Evan laughs and whispers, “No, you’re hot.”

  I roll my eyes at him in an exaggerated way. “Oh please…”

  His brown eyes fix on mine, I can see this Evan. See emotion he wants to contain and desire he doesn’t. “Oh, yes you are.”

  And he kisses me, tongue parting my lips and tasting me. We crush each other in an embrace of two people who don’t want to let go, a need to anchor each other in their world. The longing I’ve had for him since the day he came back, before Lucy, explodes inside and I pull him to me. I delve my cool hands under his shirt but he doesn’t flinch, his own finding their way under mine too. Evan’s fingers are warmer now as he traces up my side, the sensation tickling and arousing me at the same time. He cups both hands around my breasts, pushing his hands inside my bra. I arch my back into him as he gently rubs my nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Gulping down a breath, I suppress a moan and he pulls his hand away, sliding his palm up my leg.

  “I’m probably completely out of order asking this, Ness, but I want to take you upstairs and do inappropriate things with you.”

  I laugh at his mock formality and lean my head against his forehead, his lashes tickling my cheek. “What? No poetry?”

  “No, not tonight. I’m all out.”

  As if I’m going to refuse the chance to take this new Evan to my bed. He’s become more than the sexy guy I straddled on my bed all those weeks ago. Back then, we discovered each others bodies before we discovered who we were. Now that we’re connected on a deeper level, the desire for him is intense and more urgent.

  There’s something uncomfortable about leading a guy into the bedroom, aware of unspoken plans. This is a mirror of last time we were here, but a world away. I’m barely through the doorway when Evan kicks the door shut and spins me around, pressing me into the wood. My already aroused body flares into desire as his mouth covers mine, tongue delving into my mouth. I grab his hands as they slide up my side; squeeze his fingers.

  He pulls his head away, eyes searching mine in the dim light. “Okay?”

  “You took me by surprise.”

  Evan steps back, releasing my waist and I steady myself on the wall. “Sorry…”

  “No, it’s fine…”

  His slow, signature smile appears. “Oh, in that case…”

  There’s something predatory in his eyes and a shiver crosse
s my shoulders. Pushing me back against the door, he trails feather light fingers along my side. “Was I too eager? Do you want me to slow down?”

  My skin burns where he touches me, the delicious feeling hardening my nipples before his hands get anywhere near them. I grab Evan’s hair and pull him to me, tugging his lip into my mouth whilst pushing beneath his shirt to grip the knotted muscles of his back.

  Evan stops kissing me and holds his head back. “I’m trying to slow down.”

  Licking my lips slowly, I enjoy the effect the action has on Evan’s breathing and the fact he changes his mind about not kissing me. He makes a sound in his throat and I smile into his lips as they hit mine. As he holds me against the door with his hips, I disentangle my hands and unbutton his jeans. His hard length presses against the material and I touch him lightly, teasing a finger up and down the rough denim restraining him. Evan inhales sharply so I free him from his jeans, continuing to stroke. In response, he deftly unfastens my jeans and delves a hand inside, fingers slipping into the fabric of my panties. Embarrassingly, I groan against his mouth.

  “I don’t think I can do slow. I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he says, breath tickling my ear.

  I giggle at the speed in which we undress each other. Clothes pile around the room as we step out of jeans, pull off tops and lose our underwear. Evan presses me onto the bed and I grab his muscled biceps, pulling him onto me. The heated thrill of his body against mine is only surpassed by the awareness of his arousal pressing against me.

  Supporting himself on his elbows, Evan looks down, hair falling across his face. I think he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead he leans forward and covers my face and neck with butterfly kisses. Butterfly kisses which progress down towards my breasts. I wrap my legs around his hips and he stops, gently pulls away.

  “Wait.”

  Foil tears and I wriggle in anticipation. But he doesn’t slide into me, instead resuming his attention to my breasts. Once he’s kissed every available inch of skin, I’m shaking with need for him and finally he pushes himself inside me. As he does, he pauses looking down at me. His heart hammers against mine and he kisses my nose.

  “I was wrong, you’re not hot,” he says, “you’re absolutely fucking awesome.”

  The sensation of Evan holding still inside me is too much to bear. I grab his head and kiss him until our teeth collide, and I can’t breathe, all the while drowning in the urgency of his delicious movement inside me.

  Afterwards, Evan supports himself on one arm and leans over me, face glowing in the dim light. I push damp hair from his face as he kisses me.

  “You’re right, I wish every day could be like this,” he says.

  I playfully bite his arm. “I told you.”

  Lying down, he tugs me into his arms and squeezes me tightly, our naked bodies fitting together. I tuck the duvet under my chin, glad of the heat emanating from him.

  “You know, I think this idea students are promiscuous is wrong.”

  “Oh really? When did you change your mind about that?” He sounds doubtful.

  “When winter came. It’s survival. It’s so bloody cold they need to huddle together for warmth. If they don’t find a partner quickly, there might be no-one left.”

  Evan chuckles, “Yes, that’s exactly why. And I’ll warm you in your bed anytime you want.”

  Waiting for the peace of the night to be shattered by Abby, we lie quietly, no need for words. Even if only a few days were like this. The rest of the world could be coped with.

  Chapter 22

  SPRING

  EVAN

  Ness changes everything. And I don’t want her to go.

  Every time we’re in her room, I catch sight of the laptop and the taunting screensaver. She’s changed the display recently, so pictures from around the world scroll across her screen. Some days, I can’t ignore the fact she’s leaving soon and get snippy. Ness doesn’t understand why, and I can’t tell her how much I need her in my life. She’s escaped from controlling forces once, god knows I’ve been there. I have no right to interfere with her dreams. When she tries to talk to me about her plans, I increasingly change the subject. Ness isn’t stupid; she’ll figure everything out soon.

  Lucy’s grip no longer suffocates me. I kept my word, returned to Lancaster every weekend, and she kept hers. A new psychiatrist helped - a new regime of medication and one she accepted. I don’t fool myself that this is over, fixed, but this is the longest she’s been stable in a very long time.

  After Christmas, Lucy enrolled in college, following her dream to study photography. Channeling her creativity helps. So, her life moves on.

  I failed most of my first semester exams. This wasn’t a surprise, the crisis and visits home ate away my time. Then in between, I filled my life with Ness more than I really should have. So, I’m reluctantly repeating the courses, feeling as if my own life hasn’t changed much. Ness insists my life has moved on huge amounts, but I can’t help resenting hers.

  ****

  Ness’s birthday. Ness, being Ness, doesn’t want a fuss. Abby plans a wild night out and sometime I think Abby doesn’t get Ness at all. Ness avoids the student lifestyle still, the times I manage to persuade her to go with me to parties are rare. She won’t come out with me in the evenings if only students will be there. Sure, there’s plenty of other places in Leeds to hang out, and I guess this stops us from living in each other’s pockets completely, but I wish she’d involve herself with my friends occasionally. They think she’s snobby, but I don’t dare tell her.

  Ness manages to put off Abby’s grand plans and I book a nice place to eat for just the two of us. We go to a lot of curry houses, sharing our love of Indian food, so I saved for a classier meal, at a restaurant away from the student suburbs.

  Ness skips down the stairs of her house. She’s dressed up for the evening and I also picked out the best of the shirts I had, which isn’t saying much. When she appears in her green dress, skimming her knees and cut just a little too low for my peace of mind, I apologize for my poor attempt to dress up.

  Pulling me close and squeezing my rear she tugs my ear lobe with her teeth. “I think that shirt makes you look very sexy - it’s the one I took off you the first night.”

  I pull her hips towards me, hands on her backside. “Stop that, or we won’t leave the house.”

  Ness giggle and she removes my hands. “I’m hungry, let’s go.”

  The sun hovers around longer in the evening, and we leave the house in daylight for once. Spring moving towards summer, and warmer evenings. Summer. When Ness goes.

  The restaurant is smartly furnished, the waiting staff in perfectly coordinated uniforms. Everywhere shines and the wall art isn’t peeling like the pictures in our usual haunts. The reds and golds shine under the bright lighting. I suddenly feel underdressed.

  “This is one country I’m definitely visiting,” says Ness as we’re halfway through our meal, looking at the photos on the wall. “India is amazing.”

  My throat constricts around my food. Probably a good thing since I don’t want to spoil this evening by talking about her plans.

  “I have your present.” I produce a gift-wrapped box. Distracting her.

  “I said no presents.”

  “Everyone says no presents.”

  She crosses her arms. “I meant it.”

  “Tough. I bought you something.”

  Ness carefully unwraps the small box and gently removing the brooch from the tissue inside. A small silver butterfly, with delicate filigree wings. One of those crap moments follows, when you don’t know if the person likes what you bought them as Ness stares at the brooch.

  “Evan, that’s beautiful.” She leans across the table and kisses me. I can just taste Ness through the spices on her lips.

  “I know you don’t like fancy stuff, but I wanted something for you to remember me by.”

  “Our butterfly days?” she smiles, pinning the brooch onto her dress.
<
br />   I pick up the wrapping paper and fold it, pushing down the square into neat lines, not looking at her.

  “What is it?” she asks.

  “Butterfly days.”

  Ness’s brows draw together. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  My stomach has turned over repeatedly since I sat down; I’ve no idea why I suggested a meal when every time I think about this I feel sick. But I can’t keep going with this unspoken event hanging between us. If my heart will be squeezed dry by her leaving, I’m no longer sure I can keep this up. I set my fork down.

  “Did you book your flights yet?”

  Ness’s hands hover over her wine glass, about to take a drink. “Not yet.”

  “You’re still going?”

  Her eyes widen, recognizing something in my face I’ve so carefully hidden. I thought I was better at hiding than this. “You know I am.”

  My hand scrunches the serviette on my lap. Don’t spoil this. Don’t ruin her birthday. Don’t make her cry.

  ****

  NESS

  I touch the brooch pinned to my dress, the cool metal warming against my skin. A gift like the brooch speaks so much about Evan. The Evan who quotes poetry and pretends to be tongue in cheek, scared I’ll think him insincere. The guy who looks at me sometimes as if I might break.

  Five months into our relationship and I feel as if Evan’s always been in my life. There’s a relaxed easiness with him; he lives his life and I live mine. Neither of us demands too much from the other; the boundaries around what we’re prepared to give are respected. We don’t see each other every day, don’t need to. I wouldn’t want to. The breathing distance between us this leaves is perfect, our relationship has a balance compared to the all-consuming relationships I see around me. Trust and comfort in what we have holds us together when we’re apart. When I compare this to the self-destructing and all encompassing neediness of some, I think we’ve got things right. Mostly. Apart from one thing.