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Lydia Martin personifies (eunoia) wrote in paradisolog,

It was upsetting to be told that she couldn't fix it because she knew how hard that Isaac worked to help her feel better with the bumps along the road in front of her and it was frustrating not to be able to reciprocate that assistance to him. She frowned as he spoke. "I don't understand that, I honestly don't. I mean why she would doubt you even for a second, look at you, you bend over backwards every single day. I don't get it. I just don't get it," she sighed.

Isaac pulled her into his arms and she nestled her head in the crook where his shoulder met his neck, closing her eyes in a slow blink as she felt him tucking her head beneath his chin. It felt a lot nicer than it had any right to, she found herself thinking and the pondering took up so much space in her head that she actually missed some of what Isaac had said. She knew he was talking because she felt the vibration of his voice reverberating through her because of the close proximity, but she hadn't actually registered some of the words. Given the content of the discussion, though, she thought it best not to ask him to repeat it; he was upset enough as it was.

Lydia had actually forgotten that she had been the one to invite him out because she wanted to see him, and she supposed the reason she forgot was exactly that: she wanted to see him. She wanted to be alone with Isaac. Being alone with Isaac was something Lydia associated with peace and relaxation. Of safety and comfort. Of affection she didn't deserve or earn and that she had no place taking from him.

When he spoke up again, Lydia smiled a little. "I have sunscreen actually, " she admitted. "I just got out of the habit of putting it on because of the rain; I forgot, today," she confessed, tilting her head up to look at him, the reflexive need to be looking someone in the eye when talking to them too great to ignore at that moment. Except that when she felt him move to look back at her and she actually met his eyes, she realized just how close they were. For the millionth time in the past twenty-four hours, her stomach flip-flopped again. Lydia continued to ignore it with increasing difficulty. "I'll remember tomorrow."