Lochlan caught the nightmare after dark, adding weight to her limbs, slowing her down in the way that she responds best, and when she slept, she turned back into me. I harbour no guilt for my daydreams, as they were encouraged, cultivated and excused and you can't just waltz into someone's brain, cut the music and make sweeping changes unannounced.
Lochlan knows that but he has his own demons to fight and so the struggle endures.
I broached the subject of finishing the gardening this weekend and he laughed a soft laugh with a sinister edge that I promptly sawed off.
You can come too.
Three's a crowd, he countered.
Never. We're inclusive here. Shots fired and.....man down.
Touché.
Don't challenge my simple needs, Loch.
Don't make me share my beautiful life with the overbearing legacy of the man that had it and threw it all away.
He didn't, he just borrowed your life and it didn't fit him-
Oh, SEMANTICS, Peanut. I hate him for what's he's done.
Oh, but you accept the Devil.
I do not.
Semantics, Dóiteáin.
He pulls me in underneath his arms and plants a hard kiss right on the top of my head, shoving me away without a hug after. I frown and he says I'm impossible and I nod as if that's old information.
Are we going to plant the tomatoes or what?
Sure. And then we're going to do nothing but spend time together doing nothing. We could use a few hours of that.
Can we rewatch Sense8? And maybe some of the royal wedding again?
Yes. We can do all that. And maybe make some pasta and have some wine.
Ooh, fancy grownup dates.
We could use some of that, too.
Dates?
Being grownups.
I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you.
Me neither. And he grins that tired grin, the one that's blurred around the edges, lined with time and space and still a thousand watts brighter than the lights on the Midway, just for me.
Lochlan knows that but he has his own demons to fight and so the struggle endures.
I broached the subject of finishing the gardening this weekend and he laughed a soft laugh with a sinister edge that I promptly sawed off.
You can come too.
Three's a crowd, he countered.
Never. We're inclusive here. Shots fired and.....man down.
Touché.
Don't challenge my simple needs, Loch.
Don't make me share my beautiful life with the overbearing legacy of the man that had it and threw it all away.
He didn't, he just borrowed your life and it didn't fit him-
Oh, SEMANTICS, Peanut. I hate him for what's he's done.
Oh, but you accept the Devil.
I do not.
Semantics, Dóiteáin.
He pulls me in underneath his arms and plants a hard kiss right on the top of my head, shoving me away without a hug after. I frown and he says I'm impossible and I nod as if that's old information.
Are we going to plant the tomatoes or what?
Sure. And then we're going to do nothing but spend time together doing nothing. We could use a few hours of that.
Can we rewatch Sense8? And maybe some of the royal wedding again?
Yes. We can do all that. And maybe make some pasta and have some wine.
Ooh, fancy grownup dates.
We could use some of that, too.
Dates?
Being grownups.
I'd rather not, if it's all the same to you.
Me neither. And he grins that tired grin, the one that's blurred around the edges, lined with time and space and still a thousand watts brighter than the lights on the Midway, just for me.