Saturday 7 December 2019

Postevil.

I was kidnapped briefly last night for a nightcap. Caleb made us a couple of concords (so good! Violet tea, grape juice, gin and a bunch of other bits and bobs), and had a fire roaring away in the great room off the kitchen. I'm game. I'm always ready. Except he sat down after putting our drinks on the table and patted the space beside him on the big wraparound couch. The lights are off, only the fairy lights and the flames showing me the room, empty save for him. I move to sit next to him and instead he pulls me into his lap. Old dog, old tricks. I anchor my knees against his hips and lean forward for a kiss as he tucks my hair behind my ears.

Up close the fine lines of time melt into a crinkled, delighted grin and he is eighteen again. Up close his fingertips are soft against my head. Up close is the habitual, historical stubble that burns my skin so readily, flaying me open so he can suck the meat right off my bones, leaving me deconstructed, limp on the floor.

I turn and fetch our drinks, twisting at the waist without leaving his arms. A sip confirms it was worth accepting this invitation. He follows my lead, tipping his glass up without taking his eyes off mine.

This is so good. 

You're so good, Neamhchiontach.

I should be asleep. 

Come stay with me tonight. 

I tilt my head, watching him. What's in it for me? I tease him. It's an old tease, going on decades now, but only when things are good.

Whatever you want. 

I want some fresh baked bread. 

I'll head out in the morning. 

Right now. 

Let me make a call. 

I don't actually, I just wanted to see how you were going to pull that off. 

I was going to call the Keg and see if they could do take out. 

Oh my God, I love Keg bread. 

He laughs. You really don't ask for much. 

Have you ever made that offer to anyone else?

His eyes darken. Of course not. Actually, that isn't right. I did make the offer to Lochlan, and to Jacob. 

Were they on your lap? I make the joke before my brain can register the meaning and I want to cry suddenly.

You're worth absolutely any price to me. That has never changed, Bridget. You know this.

I finish the drink in one gulp, putting the glass on the table. His is only half-gone but he does the same. I move to get up from his lap but he holds my wrists, my hands against his heart. I lean in once again and give him a very soft, very light kiss.

Goodnight, Diabhal. 

Don't call me that anymore.