Lochlann wasn’t sure he wanted her to forgive him so easily. She’d pulled herself out of his grasp and Lochlann wanted to fall to his knees and look up at her and say what I’ve done isn’t forgivable, Addy.
But he was overwhelmed with something unexpected. His knees felt weak.
He was starting to understand that he could really trust her. He had before, but that trust was based on secrets, and his secrets were like weeds left to fester in a garden. If they weren’t pruned quickly they would choke and smother everything else out.
But he was starting to understand that, even though he was a monster, she didn’t hold that against him. He kept waiting for her to, but she hadn’t. She held his actions, his thoughts, his humanity against him, and he could do that. He could handle that. Because he wanted to believe he could control that. He was scared to think that maybe Addy really believed in him after all. He didn’t know what to do with that kind of support. He’d never had it before. He’d never had a relationship last this long, not after all these mistakes, and Lochlann…
….he didn’t want to lose her.
That was his one refrain, over and over again, but Addy had just held him accountable. She’d been unhappy at him, but she hadn’t…
She hadn’t punished him for being what he was.
Lochlann did not know what to do with this. It was a rare, precious thing, rarer than even the hope that had died in his chest. If all else failed, she’d been his best friend, and that was more beautiful to Addy than the sunset that made her bright eyes look like fire.
“I don’t know if awesome is the word I’d use to describe him,” Lochlann said, his voice dry, but there was the traces of frustrated affection there. Not going to the hospital and being stubborn were two things that Lochlann understood very well…..as Addy well knew. He ran a hand through his hair and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, just thinking about the hospital. Christ, he didn’t want to go back there, but he would. He would do it for Addy, and for Alaude, because even though the guy drove him insane he’d also been responsible for making sure they were both okay.
Addy asked for space.
And at first, Lochlann felt a little bout of panic claw and squirm inside his chest and up at his throat. She’s going to leave you all alone, you asshole, you thought this would be okay but she doesn’t want you around. She can’t stand to look at your face because all she can see is the monster that keeps ruining her life, that tried to kill her, that tried to kill Alaude. You stupid selfish fuck. How could you come to her and expect her to even try to love you after what you’ve done. You are unloveable.
But Lochlann tried to push that voice down. He hadn’t asked for space when he’d needed it. He’d just taken three weeks to wallow and drink and self-indulge. He’d needed that space. So if Addy needed hers, he could do that. He would do that. He realized he wasn’t breathing and he took a surprised breath, gave a started laugh, and he smiled at her.
“Yeah,” he said, and he tried to keep the little traces of fear from creeping in, but she’d probably recognize them none the less. She knew him.
“Addy,” he said, and he had his arms crossed over the railing and his hands gripped his opposing arms, but it didn’t look like he was closed off. It looked like he was trying to keep himself warm, or stop something from hurting him. “Thank you for telling me you need space. I’m glad you value this as much as I do to let me know.”
This. Their friendship.
It was better than his faint hope because it was real.
“If you’re not certain, and you still don’t know, we don’t….we don’t have to force it,” he said. “We could go see a movie or something. Something scary, so when you get really into one of the scenes, right before the jump scare, I’ll throw a piece of popcorn at you so you do jump right before the scary thing happens, and then you’ll get mad and hit me and then you’ll miss the actual scary thing and get mad again, but it will be okay.”
It would be like the other times they’d hung out. It could be simple. It could be fun. It could maybe only end in a surprised bruise on his shoulder and not one on their hearts. It wouldn’t be like old times because they couldn’t go back to before, but it could be something else maybe. It could be a friendship based on honesty and not his secrets.
And that wasn’t so bad, Lochlann realized, even though he loved her painfully.
“So you can…you can call me when you’re ready,” he said. “Even if you’re not ready for what I’m asking.”
He looked down at the last of the sun dipping down the horizon, a faint sliver of gold, and Lochlann felt the hope die in is chest.
But he was overwhelmed with something unexpected. His knees felt weak.
He was starting to understand that he could really trust her. He had before, but that trust was based on secrets, and his secrets were like weeds left to fester in a garden. If they weren’t pruned quickly they would choke and smother everything else out.
But he was starting to understand that, even though he was a monster, she didn’t hold that against him. He kept waiting for her to, but she hadn’t. She held his actions, his thoughts, his humanity against him, and he could do that. He could handle that. Because he wanted to believe he could control that. He was scared to think that maybe Addy really believed in him after all. He didn’t know what to do with that kind of support. He’d never had it before. He’d never had a relationship last this long, not after all these mistakes, and Lochlann…
….he didn’t want to lose her.
That was his one refrain, over and over again, but Addy had just held him accountable. She’d been unhappy at him, but she hadn’t…
She hadn’t punished him for being what he was.
Lochlann did not know what to do with this. It was a rare, precious thing, rarer than even the hope that had died in his chest. If all else failed, she’d been his best friend, and that was more beautiful to Addy than the sunset that made her bright eyes look like fire.
“I don’t know if awesome is the word I’d use to describe him,” Lochlann said, his voice dry, but there was the traces of frustrated affection there. Not going to the hospital and being stubborn were two things that Lochlann understood very well…..as Addy well knew. He ran a hand through his hair and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, just thinking about the hospital. Christ, he didn’t want to go back there, but he would. He would do it for Addy, and for Alaude, because even though the guy drove him insane he’d also been responsible for making sure they were both okay.
Addy asked for space.
And at first, Lochlann felt a little bout of panic claw and squirm inside his chest and up at his throat. She’s going to leave you all alone, you asshole, you thought this would be okay but she doesn’t want you around. She can’t stand to look at your face because all she can see is the monster that keeps ruining her life, that tried to kill her, that tried to kill Alaude. You stupid selfish fuck. How could you come to her and expect her to even try to love you after what you’ve done. You are unloveable.
But Lochlann tried to push that voice down. He hadn’t asked for space when he’d needed it. He’d just taken three weeks to wallow and drink and self-indulge. He’d needed that space. So if Addy needed hers, he could do that. He would do that. He realized he wasn’t breathing and he took a surprised breath, gave a started laugh, and he smiled at her.
“Yeah,” he said, and he tried to keep the little traces of fear from creeping in, but she’d probably recognize them none the less. She knew him.
“Addy,” he said, and he had his arms crossed over the railing and his hands gripped his opposing arms, but it didn’t look like he was closed off. It looked like he was trying to keep himself warm, or stop something from hurting him. “Thank you for telling me you need space. I’m glad you value this as much as I do to let me know.”
This. Their friendship.
It was better than his faint hope because it was real.
“If you’re not certain, and you still don’t know, we don’t….we don’t have to force it,” he said. “We could go see a movie or something. Something scary, so when you get really into one of the scenes, right before the jump scare, I’ll throw a piece of popcorn at you so you do jump right before the scary thing happens, and then you’ll get mad and hit me and then you’ll miss the actual scary thing and get mad again, but it will be okay.”
It would be like the other times they’d hung out. It could be simple. It could be fun. It could maybe only end in a surprised bruise on his shoulder and not one on their hearts. It wouldn’t be like old times because they couldn’t go back to before, but it could be something else maybe. It could be a friendship based on honesty and not his secrets.
And that wasn’t so bad, Lochlann realized, even though he loved her painfully.
“So you can…you can call me when you’re ready,” he said. “Even if you’re not ready for what I’m asking.”
He looked down at the last of the sun dipping down the horizon, a faint sliver of gold, and Lochlann felt the hope die in is chest.
