Private Finished Baby, It's cold Outside

"You should, um, try them on," Lochlann said.

He was surprised by the hesitancy in his voice.

He wasn't sure what he expected from Guinevere in this moment. He didn't know if he wanted to see her excited. He didn't know if he wanted to see her angry. He didn't know if he wanted her to not care at all.

But he might want her to care a little, and Lochlann didn't want to want that.

"I think I got your size right," he said. "You've got small hands."

He'd held the gloves in his hands and tried to measure them against the memory of her hand in his. Thinking about it made his face flush red, as though he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have.

"I mean, you can try them on if you want to," he said, quickly. "It's just that, well, it's cold outside."

Lochlann was

relieved confused anxious aroused warm warm warm

Lochlann was

Lochlann.

Right now, in this moment, the way he looked at her was like the way he looked at her when they were alone, in the middle of their fucking, when he was his most honest. He looked at her that way and he didn't look away for a while.

Lochlann was completely present in this moment, but he was also miles away because he couldn't fully believe just how fully he was there.

"oh," He said.

Right.

Her hands. She wouldn't want to show his parents that. In a way, Lochlann was almost relieved. He didn't know if he could handle seeing her try them on. Her acceptance of the gift was a welcome relief from him.

"Merry Christmas, Guin," Lochlann said.

He looked like someone who was waking up from a long dream and couldn't quite tell what was part of the waking world and what was the fading remnants of sleep.

He was trying to package away the strange feelings she brought out in him. He packed them haphazardly and hurriedly. He couldn't hide the look on his face when she returned to the room holding a box that Lochlann recognized in a dim way, like one might recognize a place they visited as a child.

But he wasn't looking at the box.

He was looking at her face.

Guinevere seemed different somehow. He couldn't figure out what it was. She wasn't acting any differently, she still played the role of the loving girlfriend, but it was something small, something barely noticeable. He wondered if the way she smelled changed.

Lochlann leaned in and rested his head on her shoulder.

She still smelled warm and clean and girlish.

Did he really just rest his head on her shoulder so he could smell her?

"Come here," Lochlann said, and he didn't give her a moment to answer. He scooped her up into his lap and placed the box ontop of her so that she was nestled between him and the present.

He didn't know what was wrong. Nothing was probably wrong. It was probably just him. He was probably just nervous and he was projecting it onto her.

But he wanted to hold onto this illusion for a little bit longer.

"Oh boy," Lochlann said. "Hmmm. I wonder...is it..."

He shook the box gently. His stomach shook on the inside.

"is it..a collection of boudoir photos of you?" he teased.

For some reason he was afraid to open this box.

Lochlann shook the box one more time so she didn't catch on to his fingers trembling.

He did not want to open this. He did not know why. He'd just given her a gift, it made sense for Guinevere Haze to give him one, too. This was all an act. Everything between them was pre-scripted lines to put on a performance: Guin and Loch Holiday Special.

He licked his lips.

His fingers worked the box and then, finally, slowly, he opened it.

He pulled the objects out and held them in his hands.

He was quiet for a long, long time.

Lochlann said, "Oh, Guin."

He knew what this meant and he was sorry to tell her.

The black stuffed horse was soft he stroked it, loving the texture. The ribbon was cool and taut in his palm.

She'd given him back their past.

"I can't go back," he said.

Lochlann was fucked up.

Lochlann never had a good concept of time. Time was meaningless when he was underwater. There was no real difference between night and day, no difference between then and now.

He felt like he was under water now.

He stared at the horse in his hand and then he stared at Guinevere when she sprang away from his arms.

He was getting everything he'd asked for: she was going home.

Why did he feel so strange about it? Lochlann's head was spinning like he'd just taken a bottle of sleeping pills. That was the only explanation for what he was pretty sure just happened. Was he hallucinating?

He did not know what he was feeling. He was certain he was feeling nothing, and he was certain that he was feeling everything.

"This is goodbye. I love you, Lochlann."

What

the

fuck.

"Well, that's a shame," Lillianna said. "I guess she won't be staying for dinner then. Shame, we killed the goose for tonight."

What

the

fuck.

Lochlann closed his eyes.

He'd gotten everything he'd ever wanted.

He said, "Goodbye Guin."