𝐥𝐮𝐜𝐲, 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐞
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮
Jules sat up a second later, and at that point, Lucy knew the teasing smile on her face too well. "You know what I just thought of?"
"What?"...
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𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩, 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐜𝐚𝐧
To Lucy, there was no worse feeling than waking up and not remembering the night before. She remembered yelling at Fez. She remembered running. She remembered stalking into her room, slamming the door, and taking an unholy amount of... she wasn't even sure what all she had taken. And then nothing. Just black.
She rolled over in bed. The mirror hung on the door of her closet was shattered. That was... definitely not a good sign. She groaned and pulled herself out of bed. It felt like she was putting her bones back together piece by piece. Everything sort of hurt. But her hand was the worst. She looked down at it. Ah. Jagged cuts ran down each knuckle, caked with dry blood. There were a few shards of glass in there too, and Lucy marveled at the fact that they were still shiny until she realized she actually had to do something about it.
Luckily for her, she had painkillers. A lot of them. Once she numbed herself completely, she grabbed a pair of tweezers and started picking out the glass. She fixed the damage methodically. Glass first, then wash the blood off, then bandage it. She washed the few streaks of blood on her face away. She stripped her sheets and threw them in the washer.
She didn't realize her mom was sitting at the kitchen table until she'd passed her at least three times. "Oh... hey," she said, suddenly second guessing everything she'd done in the last hour.
"Hey," her mom said. She didn't look angry or anything. "Sit down," she said. "Eat some food."
Lucy sat at the table and let her mom make her toast with peanut butter. She didn't really like toast with peanut butter, but she'd liked it as a kid. It's the thought that counts.
Her mom sat across from her and watched her eat. It started to freak Lucy out. They didn't usually go this long without talking. "Do you want to talk about last night?"
Shit. Lucy had assumed she'd just come home, punched the mirror, and passed out. But there was a chance- a slight chance- her mom had gotten involved. And if that was the case... she said a little prayer that it wasn't. "Uhhh..." Anything she said could be used against her.
"I heard you got a little angry," her mom said. Then it seemed like she noticed Lucy's bandaged hand for the first time. "Did you get in a fight?"
"No, I- uh-" It was embarrassing, now that she had to say it to her mom. "I punched a mirror."
She could tell her mom was trying to figure her out. She'd been trying to figure her out her whole life. Lucy wished she could grab her shoulders, shake them, and tell her to stop trying. Lucy couldn't even figure herself out.
"Why?" her mom asked after a long beat of silence.
Lucy shrugged. "Just, like... got angry... at some stuff."
