Soulmates. (A (Short)Chenford Story)

Chapter 4: the end's beginning

"No, I was not out late." Lucy's reply was angry, irate. Her chin jutted and the corners of her mouth turned down, her eyes very purposefully avoiding moving in Tim's general direction.

In her periphery, she saw Tim shift uncomfortably, and he straightened up. Confused, possibly, at the change in her usual demeanor. He raised his hand to touch Lucy's arm, his fingertips barely brushing her elbow before she flinched away from him.

He sighed, resigned, and moved away from her... well, withered body. Tim, frankly, was worried. It had been weeks since Lucy had been her usual self, and he'd just had to sit by and watch as she had shrunk as a person. Her cheeks and orbitals were hollow, dug out. The thighs which he knew (and admittedly, loved) so well- which made Lucy, Lucy - were thin, her uniform hanging, draped like curtains over the cage of a body that once was. Like some being had dug into her with its fingernails, scraped and clawed away at her. Leaving an empty shell; a husk. Poured into her the essence of someone - no, something else. That was what worried Tim.

--

The day passed, uneventful, unremarkable. Like every day for the past few months. The void of silence that had shrouded their shop had Tim thinking. On the old days, with Isabel, Ashley, his past, his present - his friends, Angela and Wesley - how happy they were, how he wanted that for his future. His mother - how she'd instilled in him and his sister the same message of kindness - and how at the end of the day, he'd stuck to that. His dear mother - the stories she'd tell, of unicorns and dragons and Arthur Pendragon and Merlin, bound in Prophecy, and when he was older, of bound Souls, destined to be together forever. The consequences that came with rejection.Both Genny and Tim had been quick to refute the idea. Now, as he aged (though he hadn't given it much thought in recent years) he hadn't been so quick to jump to judgement.

He spared a glance over at Lucy, hunched in her seat, head low, but not quite sleepy (more... drained?), watching the radio for a call. A spark went off in his mind.

The penny dropped

He looked back at the road.

--

At home, Tim quickly googled a recipe, and setting his phone on the counter, he got to work. It took him about an hour, given that he messed up the first go round, so had to start again.

As soon as he was done, he packaged it all up into tupperware containers, and set them in his bag with a wish and prayer that they wouldn't leak on the drive.

--

Tim rapped at the door, and cringed slightly as the sound echoed back at him inside, and down the corridor either side of him. He took a step back away from the door whilst he waited, and frowned when he heard steps shuffling behind the door. Clutter being pushed to the side. Slightly fazed, he looked between the doors either side of this apartment, scouring his mind - this was the correct apartment, right? The last time he'd visited Lucy's was before Jackson died - and the flat had been pristine - no need to push clutter put of the way.

Abruptly, the door opened. Tim's eyebrows shot up, mirroring Lucy's own shocked expression. He looked her up and down, taking in her attire. It wasn't yet seven, and she was in a dressing gown, fluffy socks and hair in a long braid over her shoulder - with the flyaways poking her in the eyes and wispy hairs standing on end suggesting she'd already been asleep - at seven PM.

Tim couldn't help himself. "Were you asleep?" He asked, incredulous.

Lucy folded her arms over her chest, her seemingly permanent frown deepening further.

"Yes, and?"

Hostile.

"Nothing, no, Lucy, I didn't mean anything by it; I was just shocked is all."

"Do you need something?" She asked, her tone softening ever-so-slightly.

"Yeah, I uh.. I brought soup?" Tim suddenly found himself very nervous to be standing in front of Lucy (under or over dressed?), whilst she stared him down, wearing nothing but the dressing gown she had pulled over her chest. Tim shoved his free hand deep into his pocket, a recurring nervous tic from his childhood. Lucy's eyes flicked down to his hand in his pocket. Maybe she she saw his anxiety, maybe she just felt sorry for him, but her gaze softened and she stepped back, widening the door for him.

"Excuse the mess, I've been having a rough time lately, sorry."

The distance that Tim's eyebrows rose was so minute, that Lucy wouldn't have caught it had she not knows Tim so well.

"Sorry." She repeated. Tim nodded, and stepped past Lucy, setting the soups on a clear spot on the counter.

"Can I clear this?" He turned, gesturing toward the couch, which was littered with Lifetime magazines and unwashed cups containing the last dregs of coffee grounds.

Lucy nodded almost imperceptibly. She watched as Tim cleared the couch of all debris, raw fingertips playing on bitten lips, brows drawn close in confusion.

Straightening up, Tim turned back to her, all judgement non existent (or schooled to be so). He smiled gently.

"Shall we eat?"

FIN

Hey Luvs, I hope you enjoy this obnoxiously long chap. I feel like this is my WP comeback lol.
Also for the reference, yes Jackson died in this fic, some where between Ch2 and Ch3. It's not mentioned BC 1 I feel I write his death too much, and also I literally forgot to put it in.
I'm having quite a bit of fun with this story, writing from Tim's POV, delving into a little bit of backstory, but I can feel it coming to an end. I wanna say the next chapter will conclude this little mini series, mayyybe the chap after that.

Please comment and/or vote, THANKS babes.

-P