|Thomas Julian Kemp (asterismos) wrote in nevermore_logs,|
@ 2013-05-25 04:02:00
|Entry tags:||lena rainmayr, thomas kemp|
WHO: Thomas and Lena
WHAT: SOMEONE can't say 'I love you'
WHEN: Friday evening
WARNINGS: I dunno, schmoop? Shit writing? Emotional infancy?
As he entered through the immense sliding doors of the hospital, Thomas decided he really hated butterflies. Oh the ones which fluttered around flowers in the spring and summer were fine, of course. It was the butterflies which had decided to take up residence in his belly ever since he had decided to tell Lena he loved her, he was taking umbrage with.
He made his way to Lena's room, the tight grip he had on the bouquet of flowers he had brought her turning his knuckles white. He smiled though, when he ducked his head into the room and found her sitting up on her bed. It was, hopefully, a sign she was finally starting to feel better.
"Hey, Lena. Feeling any better?"
Every time Lena's expression lit up when she saw him made Thomas' heart skip a beat, and when she turned to look at him, there it was. She was going to give him chronic arrhythmia and he didn't even care. "I actually do," she said, her smile wide. It was the first time he had seen a smile reach her eyes since she had been taken by Lucifer. "I get to leave tomorrow, so I hope you're ready for a whole lot of me!"
"I can attest to my readiness," he said, moving to duck and plant a kiss on her cheek. "You look much better." She still had bandages on her shoulders and arm and he knew her back was a mess of hundreds of stitches, but her colour was so much better than it had been. "Hungry? I could nab something from the cafeteria."
He noticed Lena's blush as she shook her head. "I've sort of been hiding food here," she admitted. "Don't judge me. I think there's about twelve pudding cups in the bag over there."
While it pained him to know Lena felt she had to do something like that, he certainly understood it. Dwelling on the matter would just make her feel awkward about it. "Well then, we can have a pudding feast. Unless you'd rather save them?"
After a deep inhale of breath, she shook her head again. "No. No, I'll be okay. Come sit, you're hovering."
At that moment, Thomas wondered if the butterflies in his stomach had somehow morphed into pterodactyls. This was it. He had the flowers, and Lena was feeling better. She was going to come stay with him for a few days the moment she was released. It was perfect timing. He was going to tell someone he loved them. "I-"
He was surprised by a pang in his chest and in the next moment he seemed to lose control over his voicebox when he followed the beginning of the sentence with, "-got you flowers..."
"They're beautiful," Lena smiled and waved him over to sit on the mattress beside her. "I figured they were for me, though you seemed to not want to part with them," she said, her tone teasing. After a second of silence she asked, "Thomas? Are you okay?"
It took Thomas a moment to answer, but at least he took that time to move beside her and sit down. Rather unceremoniously he handed her the flowers and finally added, "yeah. Yes, I mean. I'm fine. I've just been worried about you."
Technically it wasn't a lie. He had spent the last two weeks ranging from immobile from terror, to pacing his apartment and shooting glares at the phone as if that would make it ring, hailing news of Lena's return. Even after her escape he had only calmed down a little bit. The fact that Lena wouldn't be okay for a long time was fresh on his mind. That was not, however, what was making his chest feel like it was in a vice grip.
He was in love with Lena. Sure, it was the beginning of such a thing, and he was aware of that. He knew love could grow or fade, and he had experienced that throughout the years. There had been two people since Jamie's mother he actually felt strongly about, but neither of them had been in the right place in their lives to start a steady relationship with a man who had a child. With Lena, it was different. Their connection had been a nearly tactile thing since the day he had met her, and it had only grown.
And yet the idea of saying those words to her was causing panic to rise in his belly.
He cleared his throat, forcing a smile onto his face. "I'm so relieved you're feeling better."
Having stashed the flowers on her bedside table, Lena pulled Thomas back with her so they could both rest against her pillows. Once in position, she leaned her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her as carefully as possible. "I've been thinking," she started, her hand resting directly above his heart, "Lucifer tried so hard to make me feel weak, but now I'm the woman who survived Lucifer's lair. I know I wouldn't have if he hadn't let me, but I don't think that matters because I could give up now too. Hell, I could have let the Antichrist have me and I didn't. So he tried to prove I was weak, but it just proved I'm strong."
Her words touched him, and he planted a kiss on her white blonde hair. "I know you are." Stronger than he was, that was certain.
"Not that I'm fine and dandy, but I'm not broken." She patted his chest and then sighed. "The nurse giving me a sponge bath tried to pour water over my head and I freaked out at him so my hair is all gross."
"Your hair is fine," he was quick to assure her. "I'm sorry that happened."
"Maybe...maybe when we go to your house, you could try?" He knew it still hurt for her to raise her arms over her head, which made washing her hair difficult to impossible.
"Of course," he promised. "I'll do anything I can for you." Except, apparently, tell her how he felt about her. The words were burning him up inside, and all he wanted to do was voice them, but fear kept him silent.
It was all too apparent to him why he couldn't give voice to his feelings. It was indeed fear. The fear that the moment he admitted to feeling anything, she would leave. He had been all of sixteen when he had lost the first love of his life, and she hadn't just left. She'd abandoned him and his son as well. As much as he could, Thomas tried to downplay the devastating effect Dana's betrayal had had on him, but now it was obvious. It hurt too much to trust and have that broken. He couldn't stand the thought of it happening again.
"I'm looking forward to having you with us," he did manage to say.
"Me too," she snuggled in against him and let out a sigh, all thoughts of a pudding feast clearly forgotten. "Tired. Can I sleep, Thomas? Will you stay for awhile?"
"As long as I can," he promised her. Bending his head, he buried his nose in her hair. If he couldn't say it, the least he could do was show it. So he stayed there while she slept in his arms, and he made sure nothing could hurt her.