Re: [Lake: "Sparrow" & Luke]
For a second—it felt like longer, though, time did funny things these days—Luke was entirely focused on her voice. The way she giggled, the soft huskiness of words as they left her lips. The entire world folded and became sound, and it felt like a dream. Or maybe a memory, he couldn't be sure. Some days he wondered if he was chasing a real woman or a ghost. And then, time smoothed back out, but he was slow, slow, in absorbing what she'd said. Words felt thick and clumsy on his tongue; he had to swallow a couple times to hide it. "Being an optimist just causes pain. I'm tired of pain. That's the kind of person I am." Oh, it was a complete non-answer, but honesty, opening up, it went against every single one of his instincts.
He bristled when she mentioned 'her work'. It was an old, old thing, an echo of the name in ink on his hip. "I'd rather be lonely," he said, and maybe he didn't really mean it, but that was his mantra. "Sometimes it's not worth the risk. Not when people get hurt." He looked down at Finch. "He's not usually sweet. He likes you. That doesn't happen often." He shrugged. "Do I pretend I'm ferocious?" He wasn't teasing, really. It was a serious question.
She was right, of course—he'd dive in after her in a heartbeat if she fell in. "You could save us both the trouble of getting cold and wet by not falling in, which means moving away from the edge." Luke tried his best to sound exasperated.
Damn it all, and he inhaled sharp when she asked if he'd reached for her. Which he had. Her voice was sweet, and—he hadn't blushed in forever, in an eternity, but just then he thought he might. "I..." Usually, he was better at lying. "I don't want you to fall in. That's all."