guinevere haze

Lochlann was at Guin's apartment door. He wasn't sure what he was doing here. He wasn't sure what he was doing with the bottle of pills in his hand or the bottle of whisky. He wasn't even sure why he was wet. That was the worst part. Baby, why am I all wet? He had a feeling he knew...

It was spring. Lochlann's scars had mostly healed, but he still had to keep his hand wrapped for work. The bar had hired him back after all and he was slowly getting used to the idea of living above the Rusted Anchor again. He was taking classes and, with some encouragement, had even started...

He received Guinevere's text and was at her apartment an hour later. Surprisingly, Lochlann was dressed rather formally, or as formal as he would get. He had on a pair of grey dress pants, a collared shirt, and a tie. His shirt was even tucked in and the sleeves weren't too wrinkled. He had...

Lochlann was an immigrant. He had never remembered a time before traveling. His brother, Lawrence, had fond memories of the lochs and rivers between Ireland, Scottland, and the Isle of Man. Lochlann was presumably born in one of these locations but what he remembered most was the traveling...

He didn't mean to come back to the island. He'd waited three weeks at his house, milling about and doing farm work, throwing himself into repair projects as though fixing a fence or refinishing an old cabinet or mending a torn quilt would somehow mend the damage that she'd done to him over the...

She was still sleeping when he came back into the room. She was wrapped up in the comforter and her hair was spilling across the pillow like a sunrise. She looked so small, so delicate, so very, very human. It made Lochlann hungry. It was Christmas. The house was warm for once, toasty...

Lochlann rammed the shovel into the frozen soil. He pushed down on the cold blade with a booted foot and pressed with every ounce of weight he had. The earth grunted and protested against his onslaught but eventually started to crumble. He hefted the shovel up, tossed the dirt to the side, and...

Lochlann's concept of time had always been tenuous at best. So, for now, the term jetlagged meant nothing to him. He felt warn out and exhausted and he had no idea how long it'd taken him to arrive back into the United States from the Manta Carlos Islands. It was cold and this thin jacket...

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@"Kyros" [hr] He was ready. Lochlann was lying on the ground by the edge of the lake. His knuckles were bleeding, but Lochlann couldn't remember how, or why, or if he should care. He was drunk. He felt sick, too. It took so much to get him to this point but now that he was here...

He'd lost track of the days since the funeral. They weren't much different than the nights only, instead of lying in his bed, he lied to everyone who asked him how he was doing. Only, he didn't lie, because Lochlann wasn't sure if he could. He would say things like, "I've been keeping busy."...

Lochlann woke up gasping and clawing at the air. He was a frenzy of desperate movement, writhing in the bed, trying to untangle himself from the monsters holding him back. But it didn't matter. He couldn't fight it. Lochlann sunk back down into the darkness. When he woke up again, Lochlann...

He was waiting. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at the door. He'd showered and dressed, putting on a pair of jeans and a regular dark t-shirt, though he still wasn't wearing any shoes. This was progress. Prior to today, he'd been drunk, half-dressed, and passed out across...

They told him there might be complications, but looking back, Lochlann realized he didn't really know what the doctors had meant by that. He was busy thinking that all of his relationships had become complicated, or maybe they were always this messed up and he just didn't know. He was sitting...

Sasha had been taking a nap against the walls of that magic school when he heard the scream. He jolted at the sound, then realized it wasn’t in his vicinity, as he’d thought at first. The scent of copper hit his nose next, and then he saw the young girl standing over the body… the...

The ballroom was always empty this time of night. He couldn't sleep. His dealer had been expelled, leaving Loch with no way to get sleeping pills besides going to the infirmary to ask for them himself, but he avoided that place at every possible cost. He was out of alcohol. He was in for a...

It was almost life or death. Lochlann needed that necklace. They told him that much in the hospital when he went back for another patch and again they threw statistics about malnourishment and self-control, which he ignored. He wouldn't freaking have a problem if he had the necklace. He'd had...

His heartbeat was slow. He was grateful for that. Last night, it raced so hard inside his chest that he ached.Right now, he still ached, but it was a different kind of ache, a dull pull like an old bruise through every limb of his body. A wave washed up against the shore and Lochlann inhaled...