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 to finally write the book he'd been thinking about. It was a children's book, so it wasn't like he was working on the next Great American Novel, but it was keeping him occupied. By all accounts Lochlann was doing, well, maybe not well..but okay.
The problem was that behind the scenes he felt like a livewire.
He was jogging every day, sometimes for over an hour, sometimes a few hours each night. He was having trouble sleeping. He was running out of things he could do to control the cravings. They were so, so bad.
The spring was wet, as it usually was, and god, with the rain came the headaches and the want. The want for sex, of course, but also the want to eat, eat, eat.
Lochlann had been avoiding food as much as he could. He'd been avoiding eating around other people, especially the people he liked, to try and break the association of friends are food. He felt like he was stretched so tight he would snap.
The bar was finally starting to slow down for the night and Lochlann leaned over the counter, resting his elbows on it. The place had no uniform so Lochlann was in his regular jeans and a dark t-shirt. His hair looked like it might have been recently cut. He was lean and cut and looked like he actually belonged in this bar. He looked like sex.
The door opened and Lochlann didn't even have to look up fro the counter to know who it was.
he could never get the taste of her out of his mouth.
"It's been a while," he said, and he looked up right into the eyes of Guinevere Haze.
@Kyros
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 to finally write the book he'd been thinking about. It was a children's book, so it wasn't like he was working on the next Great American Novel, but it was keeping him occupied. By all accounts Lochlann was doing, well, maybe not well..but okay.
The problem was that behind the scenes he felt like a livewire.
He was jogging every day, sometimes for over an hour, sometimes a few hours each night. He was having trouble sleeping. He was running out of things he could do to control the cravings. They were so, so bad.
The spring was wet, as it usually was, and god, with the rain came the headaches and the want. The want for sex, of course, but also the want to eat, eat, eat.
Lochlann had been avoiding food as much as he could. He'd been avoiding eating around other people, especially the people he liked, to try and break the association of friends are food. He felt like he was stretched so tight he would snap.
The bar was finally starting to slow down for the night and Lochlann leaned over the counter, resting his elbows on it. The place had no uniform so Lochlann was in his regular jeans and a dark t-shirt. His hair looked like it might have been recently cut. He was lean and cut and looked like he actually belonged in this bar. He looked like sex.
The door opened and Lochlann didn't even have to look up fro the counter to know who it was.
he could never get the taste of her out of his mouth.
"It's been a while," he said, and he looked up right into the eyes of Guinevere Haze.
@Kyros