#pls i shouldnt laugh @ him tossing himself inside like hes a football player but kjgfnd

[lucygraysboy]

lucy  gray.  lucy  gray.  lucy  gray.  billy’s  lips  keep  moving  silently,  as  though  relishing  the  taste  of  the  strangely  familiar  name  on  his  aching  tongue.  he’s  convinced  he’s  heard  it  somewhere  before,  but  at  first  can’t  recall  where  and  when.  blades  of  grass  keep  rubbing  against  his  back,  leaving  stains  on  his  shirt  and  irritating  the  skin  beneath  when  the  fabric  gives  way  and  rides  up,  pooling  at  his  shoulder  blades.  not  that  it  matters,  all  that  counts  is  lucy  gray  and  her  promise  to  not  leave  him  alone.  lucy  gray.  despite  exhaustion  and  dehydration,  his  heart  is  suddenly  beating  a  million  miles  an  hour.  “lucy.  lucy  gray,”  he  groans,  his  chapped  lips  twisting  into  a  grimace  that’s  actually  supposed  to  be  a  smile.  the  sun  streams  down  upon  them  for  a  while  longer,  lighting  a  bright  halo  above  her  head,  and  that’s  when  it  comes  to  him  seemingly  out  of  nowhere  —  the  blurry  memory  of  his  ma,  stroking  his  hair  as  a  storm  raged  outside,  tucking  him  into  bed  with  her  and  opening  her  favorite  book.  poems,  it  was  a  collection  of  poems,  he  concludes.  he  can  smell  a  candle  burning.  in  his  memory,  the  name  on  the  cover  is  barely  visible,  but  he  can  still  hear  his  mother  reciting  one  particular  verse,  you  yet  may  spy  the  fawn  at  play,  the  hare  upon  the  green;  but  the  sweet  face  of  lucy  gray  will  never  more  be  seen  […]  yet  some  maintain  that  to  this  day  she  is  a  living  child;  that  you  may  see  sweet  lucy  gray  upon  the  lonesome  wild.  and  so  she  lives,  he  thinks  to  himself,  suddenly  overcome  with  happiness.  his  ma  must  have  sent  lucy  gray  for  him,  to  tend  to  him  or  to  take  him  to  her.  he’s  severely  dehydrated  and  feverish,  but  at  this  very  moment,  as  it  all  suddenly  begins  to  make  sense  to  his  delirious,  hazy  mind,  the  corners  of  his  eyes  begin  to  sting  with  tears.  her  name  —  he  takes  it  as  a  sign  from  the  universe  that  his  mother  is  watching  over  him  and  lucy  gray  really  is  an  angel  that  she’s  sent.  the  thought  calms  him  down  to  the  point  where  he  ends  up  drifting  off  for  a  moment.

waking  up  only  gets  more  and  more  challenging  and  exhausting  each  time  he  falls  asleep,  but  when  he  opens  his  eyes  next,  lucy  gray’s  gone  and  the  sun’s  no  longer  shining.  but  she  made  him  a  promise.  she  made  a  promise,  he  rationalizes,  convincing  himself  she  must  be  coming  back  for  him.  as  he  turns  his  heavy  head  to  the  side  to  look  for  her,  he  spots  something  terrifying  out  of  the  corner  of  his  eye.  he  blinks,  but  the  monster  persists,  staring  at  him,  baa-ing  from  time  to  time.  is  that  a…  goat?!  did  she  turn  into  a  goat?  the  pile  of  hay  would  under  any  other  circumstances  make  for  a comfy  bed,  but  with  his  back  already  sore  and  scratched,  it  feels  like  he’s  lying  on  needles.  the  goat  takes  a  curious  step  forward  just  as  he  closes  his  eyes  for  another  minute  or  two,  his  temples  pounding  from  all  this  thinking  he’s  been  doing,  needing  to  rest.  and  once  again,  he  slips  into  a  state  of  blissful  oblivion.  it’s  only  when  small,  dainty  hands  capture  and  squeeze  his  own  larger  and  more  calloused  ones  that  he  comes  back  to  his  senses,  to  a  degree.  the  sun’s  back  and  so  is  his  angel.  “lucy  gray,”  he  repeats  frantically,  so  happy  that  she’s  at  his  side  once  more.  even  if  he  can’t  see  her,  he  can  feel  her  on  his  skin  and  that’s  enough.  then  it’s  darkness  again.

“hmm?”  he  groans,  his  body  limp,  molding  like  clay  in  her  arms  and  not  really  cooperating  at  first.  at  her  room.  he  understands  that  much,  his  brain  sparking  back  to  life  at  the  unspoken  promise  —  room,  house,  water.  maybe  there’s  a  well  somewhere  on  this  property,  maybe  she’ll  let  him  have  a  sip.  but  he  has  to  get  inside  for  that,  through  the  window,  too…  god,  lucy  gray,  you’re  overestimating  me,  he  thinks,  mustering  whatever  strength’s  left  in  his  limbs  to  move.  pain,  a  burning  so  impossible  that  it  nearly  blinds  him,  shoots  up  his  legs  when  he  manages  to  scramble  up  to  his  feet,  one  of  his  arms  coils  loosely  around  this  petite  angel’s  shoulders  for  support,  his  right  hand  trying  to  grab  the  windowsill.  he  doesn’t  have  the  strength  to  remain  in  this  position  much  longer  and  so,  with  whatever  strength  he’s  got  left,  he  throws  himself,  head  first,  into  the  open  window.  he  hangs  there  like  a  sack  of  potatoes,  his  head  and  arms  and  torso  already  inside,  his  hips  and  legs  still  outside.  that’s  as  much  as  he  can  do  before  the  lights  go  out  again.

"i'm not goin' anywhere, i won't leave you. i promise you that." lucy gray speaks wholeheartedly in the midst of taking a break with an ache in her chest, chest heaving up and down as she looks up to weigh how far she's came so far and wonders if she's going to be strong enough to get him up the rest of the way of the yard. doe eyes fall back on the boy, that ache coming back when she's reminded again how sick and terrible he looks. he must be in a lot of pain, not counting how starved he looks. then she gains strength back in her upper arms again and she's back to pulling his long body, hurriedly, across the farm. fingers tightening around his ankles over his shoes until her digits hurt. "yes, that's right. lucy gray." dark haired girl confirms cheerfully despite the circumstances, finally coming up on the goat's shed and one aching arm quickly releases the latch and tugs the taller into the piles of hay on the ground for bedding, "excuse us, shamus. you got a roommate if you don't mind." she pants, looking over her shoulder once to make sure the goat is out of the way. "then again, i ain't sure this is goin' to work too well either. might be too stuffy of a place to heal up someone like him." who needs a place that's less hot as possible. she worries out loud mostly to herself, calculating eyes searching the small building in contemplation if this is a bad idea or not.

a baa sound coming from behind her tells her it is in fact a bad idea. "you're right, girl. he's not gonna be very comfy here. so off to my room, i guess. pray the preacher don't find us, will you?" she lets go of his feet and lucy gray quickly scurries outside, leaving billy inside for a moment while she goes to survey the area. sneaking back into the house to get her bedroom window open that's luckily close to the ground and then after finding out what room her father is in, scurries back out to retrieve her random male she's found. he'd get shot and she'd get paddled until their was blisters on her behind if he only knew. hands push the shed door back open and lucy gray quickly grabs his hands this time, pulling him from this end this time, back through the hay, through the grass, a handful of ducks waddling after them and then as her heart races she props him up against the siding of the house under her window.

crouching down to gently take hold of his face again, trying to guide him to focus somewhere on her face, "we're at my room, okay?" the songstress speaks quietly, beads of sweat dotting her forehead and down her tanned red cheeks, " right above you is a window to it. i need you to help me get you inside it. i'll help you stand half way and then you'll climb the best you can into it." she instructs warily– prayin' he can understand this much before standing, small hands grabbing him under his armpits and lifting his heavier frame with every ounce of upper body strength to twist him around and guide him into the open window.