04-23-2017, 11:11 PM
Stupid. How could he be so damned stupid. Coming here- he could have left her to the care of Ashley and this island she calls home. He could have gone about his business doing whatever the hell he wanted to do, as he always had. Getting fluthered, flirting with beautiful women, and sometimes getting lucky. Then going on again to whatever came next. He could be doing all that again now. Except, he doesn't want it. Not anymore. And he's never really been good at lying, least-wise to himself. Ever since he'd stumbled across a woman brought down so low and thrown carelessly aside as nothing more than the dirt she lay upon. To have everything stripped from her, just like that, at the hands of some selfish sack of gobshite. It had changed him from that very moment. No one deserves to be treated that way, ever. And all he wanted was to take her away and take care of her. He wouldn't call it pity. Of course, he sympathized. But, in that moment, a deeper part of Reilly had been awakened. A protective side. He'd always been a gentleman, especially toward women, even if he could be a bit brash at times. But he'd never truly cared about someone before.
It was what carried him to the island the magician had brought her back to. It was what held him at her side when she brought two beautiful little lives into the world. It was what rooted him to this godforsaken place. What made him agree to watch over her kids so that she could... God damn, he cares. Maybe too much. Enough that it hurts now, as he worked his own magic on himself to attempt to drown it out. Stupid, so stupid. What is he even doing here? Fuck, he can't even leave the island. Because he cares. Because he knows she's hurting. And he just made it all worse for her. Damn it all to hell and back. She really didn't have many around her. Ashley does his own thing and doesn't check on her much. But it'd made him happy to be here for her to help her. And then.. He was an ass to her. Doesn't even fully remember what all he'd said, but he knows it hurt her. As if she needs more hurt.
Fucking idiot. Another shot, another dose of the hard stuff. It wasn't her fault. Any of it. Wasn't her fault that he'd come here, that he wanted to see her happy. Still does. Wasn't her fault that he'd come to feel so much for her. Not her fault that he couldn't control his anger. So stupid. Even if inwardly, he still can't stand that she would go back to the bastard who'd done such a horrible thing to her. And willingly this time. Why... Fucking why?! When he was the one here for her. The one caring for her and helping with the kids. The one waiting. God, for what, even?! It wasn't her fault. And it wasn't his damned business. He should leave. Go far away. No, but he couldn't do that. Why stay, when she clearly doesn't care about him other than to sit her kids while she... DAMMIT. So stupid. Drunk, angry, and frustrated as all hell, he rears up and punches a tree. There's a loud crack, maybe from the tree, maybe his leg. If it hurt, he doesn't feel it. Doesn't care. But he's still walking, so nothing's broke.
He can't leave. Two babies had asked him to stay. He told them he would. Even now, he could see their beaming faces lifted to him, eyes worried and hopeful. He couldn't let them down. Not ever. He was in too deep now. With them, and with their mother, too. He'd never be the same again. Just knows it.
He falls to his knees, more drunk than he's been in a long time- with the world spinning and balance shot. He feels low, broken, and so angry. He shouldn't have talked to her that way. Shouldn't have left that way. Shouldn't be feeling this way. Mother of mercy, what a mess. He should go back. Apologize, and.. what? Tell her how stupid he is? Damn, but the world is spinning and he can't get up. Falls the rest of the way to the ground. Oh, and the grass is cool on his side and it's soft. Mm, soft. And sleep suddenly feels like the best thing. He'll go tomorrow, when they've both had time to cool. When he's not so bleedin' drunk. For now, he succumbs.
He dreams. Of finer things, beautiful things. Scenes of him coming back from a journey, Lacey greeting him with a warm kiss and an embrace, heavy with their child. Two lavender and white children racing up to him and pressing into his chest. "Daddy, you're home!" Hugging them to him, and smiling. Looking up to meet those coffee-brown eyes and catching that sassy tilt to those luscious lips he wants to kiss again and again until they're both gasping for air. She chides him for being gone so long. He teases her for missing him. She gives him that spitfire stare and he winks and promises to make it up to her later. The twins run off shouting "eww!" and "they're gonna kiss again, let's go!" And then later, much later, when they are sated and spent, she brushes his hair from his face. "Reilly." And he pulls her tighter to him.
_______
He groans as he shifts his weight, slowly waking up, but fighting it. Bloody hell, his head feels like it's going to explode. Everything feels heavy; his eyes glued shut. A long time since he's gotten as drunk as last night. His body wasn't used to it anymore. And the worst of all was the heaviness of his heart. He reaches out in his half-sleep, wanting, but knowing he'd passed out alone. But. He isn't alone, is he? His muzzle brushes up against something soft and warm, a face. The familiarity of that wild fragrance had his eyes snapping open.
As though he'd conjured her from his dreams, Lacey is there laying before him. Not nearly close enough, but there all the same. The last thing he'd expected to wake up to after yesterday's blowup. Yawning, and cringing at the pain in his head as he lifts it, he gazes at her. Still unkempt, still smelling of him, although more faintly now. That same pang of jealousy tightens his belly, but he breathes past it. She is here, sleeping near him. But why? He'd been an ass, stepped over a line. Or so he'd thought. Surprised, but happy to see her, Reilly ever so slightly runs his muzzle from below her ear, down to her cheek to the side of her nose. He pulls back then, for fear of startling her. "Lace?" Just a whisper. And when she does wake, he lets the honest guilt reflect in his eyes as he meets that dark chocolate gaze of hers. "I'm sorry, dove. Really. I had no right to act that way.." His eyes fall away then, because he is sorry, but also not sorry for the way he feels. But how to tell her. Such a damn fool, he is. "What you do with your body is your business." Truth. But goddamn, there is regret in his voice. "I just..." Damn, he's no good at this. What to say. How to say it. I'm such a fool. He sighs, frustrated, and pulls away without getting up yet. Turns his face away while he digs for the words and waits for her to berate him. "You make me crazy, dove. I don't know what to do with myself. Do you think... I could ever make you happy?" His guts churning, he can't look at her. Damned if he doesn't feel like a wee child. This, is what she does to him.
It was what carried him to the island the magician had brought her back to. It was what held him at her side when she brought two beautiful little lives into the world. It was what rooted him to this godforsaken place. What made him agree to watch over her kids so that she could... God damn, he cares. Maybe too much. Enough that it hurts now, as he worked his own magic on himself to attempt to drown it out. Stupid, so stupid. What is he even doing here? Fuck, he can't even leave the island. Because he cares. Because he knows she's hurting. And he just made it all worse for her. Damn it all to hell and back. She really didn't have many around her. Ashley does his own thing and doesn't check on her much. But it'd made him happy to be here for her to help her. And then.. He was an ass to her. Doesn't even fully remember what all he'd said, but he knows it hurt her. As if she needs more hurt.
Fucking idiot. Another shot, another dose of the hard stuff. It wasn't her fault. Any of it. Wasn't her fault that he'd come here, that he wanted to see her happy. Still does. Wasn't her fault that he'd come to feel so much for her. Not her fault that he couldn't control his anger. So stupid. Even if inwardly, he still can't stand that she would go back to the bastard who'd done such a horrible thing to her. And willingly this time. Why... Fucking why?! When he was the one here for her. The one caring for her and helping with the kids. The one waiting. God, for what, even?! It wasn't her fault. And it wasn't his damned business. He should leave. Go far away. No, but he couldn't do that. Why stay, when she clearly doesn't care about him other than to sit her kids while she... DAMMIT. So stupid. Drunk, angry, and frustrated as all hell, he rears up and punches a tree. There's a loud crack, maybe from the tree, maybe his leg. If it hurt, he doesn't feel it. Doesn't care. But he's still walking, so nothing's broke.
He can't leave. Two babies had asked him to stay. He told them he would. Even now, he could see their beaming faces lifted to him, eyes worried and hopeful. He couldn't let them down. Not ever. He was in too deep now. With them, and with their mother, too. He'd never be the same again. Just knows it.
He falls to his knees, more drunk than he's been in a long time- with the world spinning and balance shot. He feels low, broken, and so angry. He shouldn't have talked to her that way. Shouldn't have left that way. Shouldn't be feeling this way. Mother of mercy, what a mess. He should go back. Apologize, and.. what? Tell her how stupid he is? Damn, but the world is spinning and he can't get up. Falls the rest of the way to the ground. Oh, and the grass is cool on his side and it's soft. Mm, soft. And sleep suddenly feels like the best thing. He'll go tomorrow, when they've both had time to cool. When he's not so bleedin' drunk. For now, he succumbs.
He dreams. Of finer things, beautiful things. Scenes of him coming back from a journey, Lacey greeting him with a warm kiss and an embrace, heavy with their child. Two lavender and white children racing up to him and pressing into his chest. "Daddy, you're home!" Hugging them to him, and smiling. Looking up to meet those coffee-brown eyes and catching that sassy tilt to those luscious lips he wants to kiss again and again until they're both gasping for air. She chides him for being gone so long. He teases her for missing him. She gives him that spitfire stare and he winks and promises to make it up to her later. The twins run off shouting "eww!" and "they're gonna kiss again, let's go!" And then later, much later, when they are sated and spent, she brushes his hair from his face. "Reilly." And he pulls her tighter to him.
_______
He groans as he shifts his weight, slowly waking up, but fighting it. Bloody hell, his head feels like it's going to explode. Everything feels heavy; his eyes glued shut. A long time since he's gotten as drunk as last night. His body wasn't used to it anymore. And the worst of all was the heaviness of his heart. He reaches out in his half-sleep, wanting, but knowing he'd passed out alone. But. He isn't alone, is he? His muzzle brushes up against something soft and warm, a face. The familiarity of that wild fragrance had his eyes snapping open.
As though he'd conjured her from his dreams, Lacey is there laying before him. Not nearly close enough, but there all the same. The last thing he'd expected to wake up to after yesterday's blowup. Yawning, and cringing at the pain in his head as he lifts it, he gazes at her. Still unkempt, still smelling of him, although more faintly now. That same pang of jealousy tightens his belly, but he breathes past it. She is here, sleeping near him. But why? He'd been an ass, stepped over a line. Or so he'd thought. Surprised, but happy to see her, Reilly ever so slightly runs his muzzle from below her ear, down to her cheek to the side of her nose. He pulls back then, for fear of startling her. "Lace?" Just a whisper. And when she does wake, he lets the honest guilt reflect in his eyes as he meets that dark chocolate gaze of hers. "I'm sorry, dove. Really. I had no right to act that way.." His eyes fall away then, because he is sorry, but also not sorry for the way he feels. But how to tell her. Such a damn fool, he is. "What you do with your body is your business." Truth. But goddamn, there is regret in his voice. "I just..." Damn, he's no good at this. What to say. How to say it. I'm such a fool. He sighs, frustrated, and pulls away without getting up yet. Turns his face away while he digs for the words and waits for her to berate him. "You make me crazy, dove. I don't know what to do with myself. Do you think... I could ever make you happy?" His guts churning, he can't look at her. Damned if he doesn't feel like a wee child. This, is what she does to him.
