Tuesday 13 October 2015

Iconoclasting as we go.

Caleb is back, making it all the way to my bedroom door last evening before anyone saw fit to question him, and he knocked gently and I said come in before I realized it was him.

How are you, Doll?

Rough weekend. 

So I hear. What can I do?

Keep away. The blast radius might be bigger than originally estimated. 

You're a bomb, are you?

Maybe. 

He smiles. We brought you home some souvenirs. Can I take you out for breakfast in the morning after I take the kids to school?

Sure. Crazy loves eggs Benedict. 

Okay. Keep the wolves away and I'll see you here at nine. He leans down and wraps me in his arms, kissing my cheek. Get some rest, Neamhchiontach. 

I thought you'd be mad. 

You fall apart every time I travel without you. I'm taking it as a compliment. As for Pyro vilifying me the moment I'm not around to defend myself, well, I'll deal with that later. Been a long day of flying and I'm tired tonight. Sleep well, Princess. 

You too. But it wasn't him calling you out. It was me. You're the only one who has blame placed who is still alive. 

Lucky me. Sleep now, Baby. I have to leave my house before the wolves blow it down with you in it. 

Night night.

It's a house made of straw, Bridget. He's going to burn it down. 

He's not the bad one. 

Neither am I. Not anymore. 

It depends on who you ask, Caleb.

I know it does, Bridge and I'm doing my best here.