I love it when someone engineers an early evening, picking up the corners of the night and knotting it into a tight bundle containing all of the dirty dishes and lingering partygoers and walks out the front door with it.
Honestly, now I understand the premium people pay for that sort of stress-free experience and I'm grateful for it, even as I had one too many sazeracs and stumbled just enough on the bottom step of our staircase just long enough for the Devil to catch up with me.
Wait for me, Bridget. I just have a call to make.
Take your time. I have plans. I swing around and sit down on the steps. I'm going to have to call Lochlan to come downstairs and get me. It's just too far.
Fuck the call. Come with me. He takes my hand, arm around my waist.
No. I give him a shove and get nowhere. I have to go.
Coming with you, Neamhchiontach. I'll see you to your room. He leads me up the stairs though I attempt to hang back. I can't feel my tongue or my legs. I can't feel my brain or my ghosts either. Maybe the sazeracs win where the other pills don't. Maybe therapy is overrated and I just need to be drun-
I bring him right inside, through the landing and the little den and into our room. There's a few lights on, and Lochlan's suit jacket (that he hates) is draped over the back of the couch. I can hear water running in the bathroom so I drop Caleb's hand, leaving him by the door and go across to the bathroom, knocking softly.
The door opens and Lochlan's eyes meet mine, warm until they see Caleb is with me, then slightly guarded. Lochlan is stone-cold straight. No sazeracs for him. He's being the grownup as always while I will forever be the child.
Just for a bit. Not for the whole night. I plead with him, biting my lip, wavering on my feet, flushed from the alcohol and the anticipation and the tension in the room.
He nods, briefly and leans down for a kiss. I'll be out in a minute.
But it wasn't for just a bit and when I woke up this morning I was tucked in tightly between them, sleeping one of the best sleeps I've ever had, no hangover, no regrets and no resistance. Nothing left to clean up and no one that I have to answer to. Take that, ghosts. Take that, Bridget.
Honestly, now I understand the premium people pay for that sort of stress-free experience and I'm grateful for it, even as I had one too many sazeracs and stumbled just enough on the bottom step of our staircase just long enough for the Devil to catch up with me.
Wait for me, Bridget. I just have a call to make.
Take your time. I have plans. I swing around and sit down on the steps. I'm going to have to call Lochlan to come downstairs and get me. It's just too far.
Fuck the call. Come with me. He takes my hand, arm around my waist.
No. I give him a shove and get nowhere. I have to go.
Coming with you, Neamhchiontach. I'll see you to your room. He leads me up the stairs though I attempt to hang back. I can't feel my tongue or my legs. I can't feel my brain or my ghosts either. Maybe the sazeracs win where the other pills don't. Maybe therapy is overrated and I just need to be drun-
I bring him right inside, through the landing and the little den and into our room. There's a few lights on, and Lochlan's suit jacket (that he hates) is draped over the back of the couch. I can hear water running in the bathroom so I drop Caleb's hand, leaving him by the door and go across to the bathroom, knocking softly.
The door opens and Lochlan's eyes meet mine, warm until they see Caleb is with me, then slightly guarded. Lochlan is stone-cold straight. No sazeracs for him. He's being the grownup as always while I will forever be the child.
Just for a bit. Not for the whole night. I plead with him, biting my lip, wavering on my feet, flushed from the alcohol and the anticipation and the tension in the room.
He nods, briefly and leans down for a kiss. I'll be out in a minute.
But it wasn't for just a bit and when I woke up this morning I was tucked in tightly between them, sleeping one of the best sleeps I've ever had, no hangover, no regrets and no resistance. Nothing left to clean up and no one that I have to answer to. Take that, ghosts. Take that, Bridget.