Life is Strange [TAG: Lucas]

"I can't believe we're doing this." She giggled as she forcibly pushed Lucas into her flat's recently opened bedroom door. Her lips briefly disconnected with his in a sloppy but passionate kiss only to resume kissing his face on any part that she could manage: His lips, his cheeks, even the tip of his nose, before settling on the base of his neck as her hands moved to yank his blazer right off allowing it to fall to the floor. Scarred hands from years of professional Quidditch play ran eagerly over his chest as she kissed him again in an attempt to distract him because she had noticed his hands reaching for hers to stop how quickly she was going. She didn't care. She wasn't one of those girls who needed to go slow and if they did they risked wising up and potentially realizing how terrible of an idea this was.

They had run into each other in a pub. Amelia after a particularly long week of preseason practices and interviews which always did a toll on her. Lucas had been a bit more closed off about what he had been up to only saying that work was busy because he was experiencing some changes. They had of course seen one another 2 or 3 times off of the pitch (he played for Australia) but they were usually in crowds and they could only ever converse so much. They never spoke about the kiss they had shared on the dock the subject deemed, secretly by the both of them, too scandalous to discuss. Not that it mattered now. What they were about to do years later after a few drinks (plus competitive shot taking) and a happy run in coincidence in the wee hours of the morning put that dock kiss to shame.

"Don't worry about it. Didn't I say I was fine?" She tried to encourage him affectionately, her warm breath tickling his neck foolishly thinking he was worried about her instead of something else. Selfish really. "Come here Hart. Put your hands here. It's ok." She encouraged in a near purr, distracting him as she led him to sit on the bed joining him her hands unbuttoned each button of his shirt and before he could argue otherwise his shirt was off. She practically grinned. If only the girls at Hogwarts could see him now. The tanned, chiseled chest. The physique on this adonis. Her smile however, faded when she noticed the start of a scar on the top of his shoulder. Quidditch injury? No she had plenty of those in her lifetime. That wasn't it. Under the guise of kissing his shoulder she stole a peek at his back. Marks and scars. All over. Abruptly she stopped.

Not allowing him to argue otherwise she moved to his side on the bed her hand reaching toward his back but never making contact, just hanging in the air in shock. "Oh my, Merlin... What... What happened?"

"Me either." He said before her lips connected with his briefly again. Before they had gotten onto this and somehow decided, that even though their only prior contact like this was one kiss by the lake at school. And yet here they were, in her flat with her pushing him into her bedroom. Who would have thought they would have ended up here. Over the last 4-5 years he hadn't stopped having feelings for her, even though he tried to push them back when he was with other women. It didn't help that they had run into each other a few times. A couple times when he had traveled home, once or twice when she had traveled down to Australia to play their national team. He had gone out to watch to support her, and watch his teammates from Woollongong play. Even when they had talked it was just their normal banter, and not for very long, with the crowds and such.

Were they moving too fast? Was this what they really wanted to do? Well yes he wouldn't mind it, but would she regret it the next day? They were both more than just a few drinks into the night at this point as well. He moved to try and slow it down just a tad, but she stopped any attempt and just kept going. He wasn't about to say no to this, but he also didn't want her to regret it in the morning. But man did it feel good to kiss her, and have her hands roaming his body, and be so close. It seemed like luck to have run into her at that pub. She had just finished with the pre-season stuff, and he was... well trying to escape life for an evening. Two weeks prior the English National team and announced their roster for the year, and he was named as a reserve. He had been elated to feel actually noticed for his play. The National Team was independent of his father after all. But then just 5 days ago he had learned he had been traded from the team he had grown to love to Puddlemere. His father's team. He had arrived back late the day before, and had spent part of the day learning that the whole set up in Australia was so that he could mature before being brought back here. Guess he wasn't going to escape his father's control any time soon.

So he had quite needed the drinks. And now here he was kissing the woman he had had feelings for since they were in school. How things changed. "You did say it was fine." There was also the realization that she would see him shirtless. Sure he had spent some time on the beach without a shirt in Australia, building up quite a nice tan, but he knew when that was happening and was able to cast the spells to hide what covered his back. He hadn't had that time this time. What would she think? But she was still encouraging him, and it was hard to say no this. His hands instinctively went to her hips when she told him to put his hands there. "Still bossing me around Evans." he said with a smile as she pushed back to be sitting on the bed. Of course before he had any time to protest his shirt coming off, it was off. And all the scars on his back where just plain to see.

And it wasn't long before she spotted them. And it just changed the whole mood like that. When she asked what happened, he sat for a few moments in silence looking at his hands. What was he supposed to tell her. She knew quidditch injuries. She knew injuries from spells. He could try play it off as injuries of a rambunctious child, but he felt she'd see through that. Plus the alcohol was making him just a bit more truthful. He fell back so he was lying on his back, his feet still on the floor, hiding the scars, and looked up at her, his eyes finding hers, showing the conflict that was there. "You can't tell anyone if I tell you, okay?"

The silence was felt but not necessarily uncomfortable. She just didn't know what to do next. What to say. What could she say? With such a long break of not kissing it now left them room to regret what they were about to do. But she didn't. Not yet. All she could think about was how sad and exhausted Lucas looked. She wasn't sure she had ever seen him look this way before except... With his father once or twice. But whose parents didn't exasperate them every once in a while? But this was amplified somehow. He looked absolutely drained just by the mere fact that she had asked. Maybe she shouldn't have. Blame the alcohol and surprise for that.

For a long few moments it felt like her body couldn't even move. Like her muscles didn't remember how. All she could do was sit there on the bed still in her dress (which was a bit disheveled given the earlier activities of the evening that were now stalled) and stare at the marks on her old friend's back. A million and one scenarios ran through her mind of what could have happened but none of them would prepare her for the harsh truths she was about to hear (and later the next morning discredit).

His eyes met with hers and she tried to offer him a weak smile and while she managed it certainly wasn't a smile that carried to her eyes like it normally did when she was happy: When her whole face lit up. "Who am I gonna tell?" Was all she could think to say mainly because it was true. Nobody wanted to hear her talk about anything other than Quidditch anyways. Came with the job. Still seated next to him, she looked down at Luke where he laid. "Tell me."

It was amazing how quickly the mood in a room could change. One moment they were headed in one direction, and then it came to a screeching halt with her discovery of the scars on his back. A big part of him wanted to just go back to what was going on before hand. But that wasn't about to happen. Even if he just brushed it off, it seemed like the mood was gone. Which was a shame. But at the end of the day, she was still his friend, and there was a question in the back of his mind of if it was even right to, no matter how much he wanted to.

He could see the smile she gave him wasn't a happy smile. It almost looked like a smile you offered someone when you felt sorry for them. With the way his back looked, it probably was appropriate. He hated what his dad had done to him, and how he always felt as though he needed to hide it, in order to not reveal what had happened. Amelia was the first person in a long time who had seen them. "I do't know, lots of people in the world you could tell." he said with a small shrug as he lay on her bed.

Before he started in on telling her what had happened, his eyes flicked up to the ceiling. He didn't know if he wanted to see the reaction in her face as he told her. And where to start. He sighed before saying "Remember how you used to say I was lucky my father came to my events and spend time around school? Well, my mother passed away giving birth to me, and my father never quite forgave me for that. He loved her too much for that. So somehow that led to him punishing me for my crime." He paused for a moment trying to gather his thoughts before continuing. "My punishment was constant beatings basically until the day I left for Australia. I got beat for not making my bed to his standards. For making too much noise. For not making enough noise. For yelling out in pain when he was beating me. Occasionally he used his belt. He got cigarettes just to use on me as well. That's what is on my back. I spent the first 18 years of my life pretty much in constant panic that I would somehow incur his wrath."

Lots of people she could tell? Now he was being intentionally difficult. "Don't be a jerk." She warned him quietly but there was a slight bit of bite to her voice. She didn't want to fall into arguing/bickering which is what they tended to do but something told her now wasn't the time to be like that so she would try her best not to. It was a struggle but it needed to be done. "Tell me." She encouraged him gently, resting her hands in her lap comfortably she sat cross legged just watching how he laid there, his facial expressions, his breathing... Everything. Sure he didn't have to tell her anything he didn't want to but chances were, as stubborn as the Keeper was, she would try and drag it out of him anyways even if the information was delicate.

Did she remember? "Yeah." But what did that have to do with anything? Already she dread the answer as a sinking feeling in her stomach began to creep in. Oh no. No. Something about the way his eyes seemed so determined to look up at the ceiling and not at her broke her heart.  "You being born is not a crime Luke." She told him gently, the tone feeling foreign coming out of her. Reaching out she nudged his bare arm. "That's stupid and you know it." She gave off a weak laugh which immediately disappeared. Poor timing to tease him. Old habits die hard. And then it sunk in. She understood.

"Your dad... Did this to you?" The horror settled over her face as widened brown eyes and mouth gaped both in shock and disbelief. Then once that had sunk in her eyes narrowed and her expression turned to that of anger. "I'll kill him." She both decided and announced aloud all in the same moment even going so far as to stand up and move toward where her wand was on the dresser (like that would do any good with her lackluster spell casting abilities). "I can't imagine a mansion is too difficult to locate." She shrugged her bare back facing him she grabbed a pair of sweatpants from the hamper and shoved them on under the hem of her dress tying them and then lifting her shirt up and over her head discarding it to the floor and shoving on a sports bra grabbing a crumpled up t-shirt from the floor holding it in her right hand turning to face Lucas still wrapped up in the ole Gryffindor blind loyalty that got her in to more trouble than good.

He wasn't being difficulty when he tried to make sure she wouldn't go and blab. He just knew what he had to say was something that could potentially lead to a lot of press and attention in general. And now that guy was his boss. He could just say the word and cut Lucas from the team and black list him from the other teams. "I'm not a jerk." What he was was trying to protect his career. Trying to protect the one thing he had that mattered to him. It wasn't like he had anything else to call his own that he really cared about. Amelia wasn't his, regardless of what they had been on the path to doing moments before.

Every time people assumed he had gotten to where he had gotten to simply because of his father or even when she had said how it was nice to have him and his money, it was like reliving all of the abuse he had endured. Sure it was nice to come from money, but he didn't have access to any. No that would be too nice on the part of his father. None of what he had had been from his father. "It was to him. Because I took the one thing that mattered to him away from him." By her small joke, he knew it hadn't hit her yet. She hadn't seen the truth and pain in his eyes. Hadn't understood what he was telling her. He was sure it was something that didn't just sink in easy. Parents were supposed to protect anyway right?

Then it sunk in. He heard it in her voice when she spoke up to confirm it. "Yes my father did this to me." He remembered how every scar had gotten there. How the belt had been used for the first time when he had tracked mud into the house after playing outside. The cigarette when he had been too quiet during a dinner party. He remember it all. But then she exclaimed that she would kill him. He tried to grab for her wrist to stop her moving, but she was already up. "No you can't." She was already changing by the time he came to sitting on the edge of the bed. "Please Amelia, you said you wouldn't tell anyone. That includes him." No his father could not know Lucas had told had told anyone about he abuse he had suffered. His father really was a cruel man, and Lucas had no doubt he wouldn't hesitate to hurt Amelia. Especially as the man was very good at casting spells. As much as he enjoyed seeing her change, he couldn't let her go and confront his dad. He slipped off the bed, and went over and held her at the waist, and looked into her eyes, his begging. "Please don't Amelia."

"I can and I am." She ignored his protests at first, pulling the shirt up and over her head and down onto her torso with purpose. Her mind was already made up and Amelia was, and this was well known, stubborn as all hell. "I don't care if he's your father, I don't care what stadium he owns or what sort of pull he has. I don't care if he's the richest man in the world and he very well may be. I don't know and I don't give a rat's a**. He can't get away with what he did." She ranted now on a mission. The taste of the words in her mouth, the venom of them, just didn't feel right when it wasn't aimed at a Quidditch opponent. She didn't like talking about such things. This wasn't trash talking on the level that she was used to but somebody had to handle this. Somebody had to deal with this so he would pay for what he had done to Lucas.

"I'm not going to tell him anything. He already knows what he f***ing did." She went on, actually annoyed that Lucas was trying to talk her out of it (which was his right but still she found a nuisance never the less). "Someone has to hold him accountable, Hart." Switching him momentarily back to his last name in some ways dehumanized his worth to her and allowed her to act recklessly which she seemed hellbent on doing. That is until his firm grasp wrapped around her waist and pulled her in close his deep, dark eyes looking right into hers made her briefly forget how to move.

"You want me to do nothing?" She asked, her voice barely audible showing a mix of disbelief but also a struggle to understand. "Look what he did to you Lucas." She implored but of course he already knew. He was more than well aware. Holding her breath she then released a sigh her gaze turned now on his arms, his stomach, and then his back her right hand reaching out to lightly touch the marks there hesitantly at first so not to hurt him. "How could somebody do this so their own son? To anyone?" Amelia asked quietly leaning forward to kiss one of the scars that inched toward his front. Her arms wrapped around him as she pulled him into a hug though she was still noticably holding her wand as though she was still considering action. "I'm sorry this happened to you. You didn't deserve it." He was one of the kindest souls she had ever met. Even back at Hogwarts. This wasn't fair at all even setting that aside. 

Pulling back her hands found their way to his face, his sad looking face, and both hands clasped his cheeks. "Now though? You're ok?" Looks like a hookup with her high school crush was on the back burner tonight and honestly... She didn't care. Studying his face she tilted her head at him, her brow furrowed. "You're worried." She could tell. About her or about something else? 

"No you can't." He admired her resolve to fight for him, but it was a horrible idea. His dad was an accomplished wizard who was skilled at spells. While he was close with Amelia, he knew her spell casting wasn't the best. The last thing he needed was for her to go to his father's home and get hurt, all because he told the truth on what had happened to his back. "He's going to get away with it Evans. I don't want this getting out." Plus he could never forgive himself if she got hurt because of him. Everything that had happened to him was in the past. He'd never forget it, but what good did bringing up the past and trying to get vengeance do? Plus he knew it would affect his career if she even just mentioned it to the guy.

"Yes but he doesn't know you know. I've never told anyone before, and he doesn't need to know I've started telling people now." He needed her to let it go and not go and confront his dad. It was just something she couldn't do. "He doesn't okay, that's all in the past, okay?" he said as finally got over to her and managed to grab her to keep her close. If she really wanted to, she could probably get out of his grasp, but he was going to do his best to keep her from running off to his father. It was the last thing he needed to happen, regardless of how valiant the idea of it might be.

"Yes. I want you to so nothing." He could hear the struggle to understand why he was asking her to not do anything. If the roles were switched, he'd probably be the same way. He didn't need her to tell him what he had done. He had lived through it all. He had lived through broken arms from the arm being twisted. He had lived through broken ribs from being hit. He had lived through too many bruises to count. There had been so many more beatings than the scars on his back would seem to suggest. When he reached to touch the marks, he almost flinched, not because it hurt but because it was habit. But he knew she wouldn't hurt him. Not like that. "If I knew the answer to how someone could, I'd have written a book on it." he said, trying to lighten up the situation a little bit, as his eyes watched her lean forward and kiss one of the longer scars he had. A scar from a belt that had managed to wrap around on his shoulder. And soon enough he was being pulled into a hug. It was comforting to have her against him in an embrace like this. One of his hands slipped up from her waist to the middle of her back, holding her close. "In his eyes I did." he said quietly. It was one of the reasons he had wanted to get as far away as he could, and why he hated the career change that had just happened.

As she pulled back, his arms loosened a little bit as her hands found his face. It was then he felt the wand still in her hand. He reached one of his hands up and gently took it out of her hand and tossed it onto the bed. "I'm okay now." he said with a small nod. Or was he? He kept telling himself he was, but he wasn't too sure. As for what he was worried about, well there was how being under his father's thumb again would go. Would she go off when he wasn't there to confront him? "Just worried you'd go off and get yourself hurt because of me."

"What? You don't think I could do it? You're just like everybody else." She grumped still feeling the affects of the shots they had taken before they had ended up in her bedroom. "Listen, just cause I'm not as good as magic as all of you pureblood kids doesn't mean that I can't hold my own. I can. I thought you of all people would know that." She ranted struggling to put her shirt on which she had initially pulled on the wrong way. Finally she got it right and gave it one last final tug now ready to confront his father both in defense of Lucas but also to spite him so to prove to him that she could just like any other witch or wizard.

"Well, he's about to know I know. You best believe that. He'll only get away with it because you let him and you can't." She urged not really understanding his side of things because she never had experience of abuse of that nature. Other kinds, being a famous athlete, sure but not at the hands of a rich and powerful father. "If you won't stand up to him I will in your stead." Making things even more difficult was the fact she was still inebriated, they both were, and it would make her a sitting duck. Lucas was right to try and stop her... For now at least.

Lucas tried to joke with her about the situation but noticably, possibly for the first time, she didn't smile at the banter instead she frowned, sincerely studying his back and all of the marks on it. She had scars on her hands but that was from years of competitive Quidditch play. Something she loved. They weren't sinister like the ones Lucas was sporting. "Well, he's wrong. He's an idiot and he's wrong." She declared firmly, pulling back from the hug and not because she wanted to but because she needed to be heard. He took her wand and tossed it aside which had her gasping in surprise. "Hey!" Sneaky bastard. Still, he had done it and now she could only look up at him her hands clasping his cheeks.

"You say you're okay but I can see that you're not." She told him quietly in the dim light of the bedroom. "But if you want to lie to me right now that's ok." Her fingers gently ran through his short black curls as a subconscious way to comfort that she didn't even know she had. "I don't need anyone to worry about me. Least of all you. I'm a big girl Lucas Hartwell in case you haven't noticed. I don't need saving." It was now that she joked with him giving his face a little nudge before pressing a soft kiss against his rough cheek. 

"I don't doubt your abilities Evans, I just know what he is capable of." Even he hadn't been able to keep himself from getting beaten up when he could legally cast spells. He didn't even know if he could now. The day before he had left for Australia he had gotten disarmed and then had spells cast at him to torture him, which were worsened by the fact he had even thought of fighting back. He had practiced dueling and getting better, even working on some wandless and wordless magic to help him out, but he didn't know it if was enough. "I know you can hold your own." Against most normal people sure. But his father was a whole different beast. He was cruel and didn't seem to care about the well being of anyone.

"I can let him, and I do. It's not worth it to me to confront him about it." Not to mention there was no way to change the past. And there was that fear that maybe it would lead to more abuse for him. Now he was on his father's team. The emotional rollercoaster that could come with that would be horrible. Especially as quidditch had been his one outlet his whole life. What would he do if he lost quidditch? "I don't want you to stand up to him for me." At least he didn't live at home any more. He didn't have to worry about going home to the guy if it was to get back to him. But he'd just try stop her from doing it at all.

He didn't really expect a laugh out of her with his comment. The weight of the revelations were probably a bit too heavy to make light of it. He knew the scars were shocking. That's why he usually hid them if he knew he was going to be shirtless. Generally he usually kept his shirt on, but he had tried to start enjoying himself outside of quidditch, going to the beach and such with his teammates the last couple of years. His hands had scars on his hands, some from quidditch, others from his father, but those where easier to pass off as just quidditch related. "That may be true, but it doesn't change what he thinks." That was true. He certainly wasn't about to change what his father thought. Not after about 23 years of blaming him for taking the love of his life away. He was just glad he had managed to get her wand away.

Of course she could read the fact he wasn't okay. They had been friends long enough. "It's hard to explain how I am. That was my life. My normal. I don't want to lie, but I just don't know how to explain it. And I'm not really sure what ok is." he said quietly. He didn't even know how to quantify how he was. Her fingers going through his head was comforting. It was something that wasn't associated with anything his father did. "I know you don't need saving Amelia Evans. Doesn't mean I can't worry about what he'd do to you." Not since he knew exactly what his father was capable of. He gave a weak smile when she kissed his cheek. "I just don't want anything to happen to you" he said very quietly, it was almost a whisper.

"You say that but clearly you don't mean it if you're acting this way." She drunkenly pouted, her hands balling up into fists at her sides much like a child's might when having a good mope session. Blame the alcohol for that one. It removed a lot of her walls and regressed her a bit which in some cases were good. It made her more open sure but it also made her more of a risk taker socially. This may have been a mix of both. "I'll have you know that I'm good at things other than Quidditch." She informed him sticking her nose up in the air like it was some grand ole announcement and everyone needed to hear even though there was no one else in the room other than the two of them.

"You would do nothing at all." She frowned up at him wishing he would understand just how serious and sad what he was asking of her.  Letting someone get away with abusing you, holding someone back from making him accountable, was another hurtful act like the abuse. There was no ending of the cycle. Not acting was making it ok... At least to her. Then again who was she to talk with Oliver? Speaking of. "Back at Hogwarts you didn't like how Wood treated me right?" She implored him. "Wouldn't you have acted if you could? If I had let you." She should have. She really should have. Little did she know she would be back with him a few months after this night and things would be even worse. A vicious and gross cycle continues.

"Who cares what he thinks? I'm telling you what I think and I want you to listen, Hart." She said firmly, insisting that he pay attention. "You are not a mistake. You are a good person. You're one of the kindest people I've ever met. Do you hear me?" She promised him, the thumb of her right hand making comforting, soft circles against his cheek. He didn't know what ok was? That was especially sad. "Maybe I can stay with you until you figure it out." She told him quietly not realizing the weight of her own words. "Nothing's going to happen to me. You're here with me right?" The Keeper asked, raising her brow as she moved into him in another hug that she initiated this time.

He didn't know quite how he was going to explain, yes you're a good witch, but he's more powerful than even me, without pissing her off more. He suspected some of it was coming from the alcohol, but that could mean she was a little more rash. It was if he was somewhat digging himself into a whole. And even with the alcohol dulling his better judgments, he knew it probably wasn't the best idea to make her feel insulted. "I know you are good at things other than quidditch Evans." Maybe it was more of a protective thing, knowing his father was cruel and wouldn't care if it was a female, rather than questioning her abilities, but it was still not something he wanted tested.

"I have done nothing at all." He had been away for 5 years. In theory he could have revealed it from the safety of Australia, but his father still scared him, and now he was under his thumb again. Not that Amelia knew that. At least this time he didn't have to live with the guy and would just see him in public. "I still don't like how he treated you." He said before adding "But that was different. You were still with him. He was still treating you that way. My father hasn't hit me in 5 years." And he didn't plan to let the guy have a chance to. His dueling skills were much better, and he really he didn't intend to be alone with his father, or not have people relatively close by.

"What he thinks is why I was abused for 18 years Evans." He said. But he listened to her. Her words meant a lot to him. He hadn't really heard too many kind words. Not like this anyway. Plus the soft circles on his cheek was a nice feeling. "I hear you." he said softly. "You don't have to do that Amelia." Plus this was her place, not his. Although at this moment his place was a hotel, so that wasn't saying much. But like her, in his mind he didn't need protecting. "I'm here. I worry about the when I leave." When she hugged him again, he relaxed slightly, not even realizing how tense he was. His head went to rest on her shoulder softly. "I'm lucky to have you in my life Amelia." he said softly. And he meant every word.

"Do you?" She questioned right back quick to follow his comment. He may be hearing her but was he really listening to what she had to say? Was he honestly taking it to heart and believing her? Of course if he truly wasn't there wasn't much he could do about it but still she felt the need to try. Lucas deserved that much. To know his worth. If his father wouldn't let him know she would tonight while the alcohol still coursed through her veins and she wasn't so self conscious or aware of her own vulnerabilities which was normally wary and embarrassed of.

"You're right. I don't have to." She said simply leading him to believe she might end the night right there and kick him out. But instead her hand caught his cheek gently and made him look at her. Her face kind and sweet. "I want to." Her smile grew a little bit both from seeing the look on his face but also because this was the first time she had ever felt this way. Inviting someone into her home, even if just for the night, and not for sex. Just to spend time with someone. To care about someone.

"Then maybe don't leave." Realizing how that sounded, she blinked and tried to explain. "I mean, stay here tonight. With me.." It was a genuine offer and somewhat hesitantly her fingers flexed then reached out for his hand, wrapping her fingers with his which hopefully he wouldn't reject. "I promise I won't get handsy. We can just lay down and talk... If you want. You do know how to have a conversation don't you, Hart?" She joked again trying to lighten the mood. At least she wouldn't be leaving her flat in her drunken state to go and take on the world defending Lucas' honor.

"I'm lucky to have you in my life Amelia." 

This had caught her off guard and her face momentarily showed it. When had anyone ever said that? They were lucky to have her on their roster sure... But their life? This was a first. "You only just bumped into me again tonight." Just like her. Take a compliment that made her uncomfortable (they all did) and turn it into something else. "But you always find me, don't you?" The right side of her lips curved into a little smile and she stood up on her tiptoes pressing a soft, gentle kiss against his lips. It was like breathing again. It was like the one at the dock. And the one outside the bar. And every single one she would ever have.

He nodded, although it was hard. He had spent his whole life believing he wasn't worth anything. He wanted to believe it, but even his quidditch play was questioned by people who thought he just had it because of his father. It hadn't been as much in Australia since the coverage of the British teams was less, but it had still popped up. His father hadn't helped him one bit, except giving him the opportunity to find the sport early and develop a love for it. It was what haply gotten him through.

She was being too kind to him. He didn't need the pity. But her face was nothing but kind and her touch was comforting "I don't know why you want to." he said. He didn't understand why she would be doing this. They hadn't ever really been this close or talked this much beyond joking with each other. Not trying to cheer someone up after you just found out a dark secret. They had never been that type of friend. Of course, at least for him, there was something more on top of just friends, but it wasn't something that was said by him. It was just a distant overtone.

Then there was the offer to stay there. It would keep her from doing something rash. But it would also mean getting to spend some time with her. "I can do that." he said with a nod. He felt her fingers hesitantly wrapping around his fingers. He didn't think they had ever held hands like this, and it almost seemed to just fit. He gave them a slight squeeze, almost out of appreciation. At her comment about having a conversation he smiled a little and said "Nah, why would I need to be able to have those?" Of course given the number of interviews he had had to do in the last 5 years, if he didn't know how to have a conversation and talk to people he wouldn't have gotten very far.

Her face showed he had caught her off guard. But he had meant what he had said. Even without his feelings he had for her, he actually enjoyed their interactions up until now. He didn't have too many people he felt he could trust like this. He got along with a bunch of people, but that was different than trusting them. "Well that would be true if I had just met you, but I've known you for ages." That was true. They had been two years apart in school, but with the quidditch that hadn't seemed to matter. "I suppose I do." he said, returning her smile. Then she pressed a soft kiss on his lips, and he had that same electrical feeling that had gone through him when they had kissed on the dock. He still hadn't felt another kiss like that with anyone else. But with her, it happened every time. When she pulled back he smiled at her and reached up and tucked a piece of loose hair behind her ear. "So what do you want to talk about?" He asked. Of course he would, at some point, need to figure out what to do about a shirt, since he was sure at some point he'd get cold.

"Do you really want to get rid of me that badly?" She teased quietly, deep down scared of what the answer might be so she put on a brave face. He had a point. Their relationship had been joking and arguments until this point but there had also been a few moments of genuine softness and tenderness in between. It was when her mind was preoccupied, she was inebriated, or she was distracted that a personality other than the hugely competitive and rough one she had come to be known for shined through. A part of her was scared to show that part. It was a part unrelated to being good at a sport. On top of that for many years she had been told, by men in higher positions in her field, that vulnerability was weakness and caring about someone played into that dangerous vulnerable nature.

He agreed to stay with her, at least for the night (she assumed), and the Keeper smiled warmly up at him. "Really?" Well that didn't take much fighting did it? "Well... Good then. I win." The squeeze of her hand caused a vibration and warmth to move throughout her body. Starting at her chest and traveling right down to her toes. She didn't all together hate it even if it was brand new. "Too bad. You're gonna have to talk to me. Isn't that the worst?" Amelia bobbled her head playfully at him and stuck out her tongue, after all she was still a bit drunk as not too much time had passed since the bar and she may have enticed Lucas to sample a scotch she had in the bar in her living room on the way in.

"At least with you always looking for me I won't get lost." She mused, his fingertips grazing against her ear as he tucked some hair behind it. More vibration. More lovely buzzing. What did she want to talk about? She wasn't sure... Was there anything to talk about that wasn't Quidditch? "What were you doing at the bar tonight? I never asked." Taking his hand she led him toward the bed and then tossed a quilt around his bare shoulders (not that she minded peeking but she imagined he felt pretty odd with her now clothed). "What did you think when you saw me there?" Amelia pressed as she laid stomach first on the bed and reached under the frame retrieving a bottle of liquor (probably left there during one drunken house party with her teammates). "Probably felt like Hogwarts all over again huh?" She gave him a lopsided smile as she sat up on her knees unscrewing the cap and taking a swig, offering it to Lucas to take a sip. 

"Romy brought that over for the preseason party. Remember?" The two Keepers were pretty close. Like some unwritten rule and Amelia had thrown a party at the start of the season at Romy's insistence. "You left early though, didn't you. Was it not fun?" Little did she know that Lucas had been there for a good deal of it... Into the early hours. She had just been so wrapped into it, and under Oliver's watchful eye, that he never got a chance to approach. "I like to think I throw a good American style bash but then that sort of thing happens and I'm never sure. Moretti and Romy broke my new dining table so I have to think they had a halfway decent time."