by Justine Dee
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Gwyn had suffered a severe hang over after being out with Izzy and now four days later she was working on acquiring another one.
“Gwyn, what the hell are you doing sitting here in the dark? You’ve been called to work.” Myrrdin growled.
“Don’t care.” Petulant yes, Gwyn knew this. She was throwing a tantrum. She just hadn’t bothered with the flailing limbs and had skipped straight to the sullen I’m not coming out of my room ever and I hate you phase.
“What do you mean you don’t care? You are just going to condemn the soul because you’re feeling like being a madam?”
“Pretty much.”
Gwyn still did not raise her head to look at Myrddin. She knew what she would see: long fringe falling into his eyes which would show both his amusement at her behaviour and how truly unamused he was by her ignoring her duties. He was right, there was a soul that needed to be ushered on to the next part of its journey and Gwyn was sitting grumbling on her couch still upset that Myrddin had asked her to dinner with Adrian and Lance, even though it had been days since he had done it. Still upset by how they had treated her and still stubbornly not wanting to be the person to reach out and take the meagre olive branch that Myrddin had offered in some strange attempt to reconcile his sister with her two exes because The Hunt required them to work together.
“Gwyn that is hardly...” Myrddin paused and sniffed at the air. “What is that smell?”
“The spilled drink or the blood?”
Myrddin startled visibly at her reply.
“Blood? What on earth have you been doing here in the dark?”
“I dropped my glass.”
“And punctured an artery? The smell is strong.”
“I might have played around with the cut and made it bleed more than it might have.” Gwyn sighed. The tears were coming again, stupid tears. Had she not shed enough for those two stubborn assholes? How much did they want her to suffer?
“Gwyn.” Myrddin sounded exasperated and more than a little like an older brother than he ever usually did. “Gwynnie, this has got to stop. You can’t keep moping about like this and self-destructing. You should have come to dinner.”
“Shoulda, coulda, woulda, didn’t.” Gwyn replied.
“Brighid help me, I’m talking to a six year old.” Myrddin growled.
Sometimes he was the patient old man and other times he was the cantankerous old man, for all that he was just a few years older than Gwyn. He flicked the light on and Gwyn groaned pushing one of the couch cushions against her face to block out the sudden intrusion.
“The light, it burns.”
“Oh shut your face.” Myrddin pulled the pillow from her grip. “You’re getting blood on that. I’ll get Adrian to take care of the soul. You have a date with Logan tomorrow and I’m not taking another ‘no’ from you unless you want to shift your arse and go and do the job that you were chosen for.”
He was not gentle as he pulled her arm out straight in front of him and inspected her hand and the wound across her palm.
“Am I going to be playing doctor to you every five minutes? First your feet and now this.”
Gwyn gave him a half smile. He was right, they had not seen each other much in the years before and now twice in a matter of weeks, or was it just days, he was tending her injuries. He was right, though; she was acting like a child, but she just did not have it in her to keep dealing with everything like a rational adult. She had beaten herself up over Lance and Adrian a million and one times, she had missed them both, she had hated them both, she had cried for them both. And Lance...Lance, she had cursed so many times. Adrian might have hurt her but Lance, Lance had nearly destroyed her and she wanted him back and she missed him and he had just walked away and forgotten her and the pain of that, it destroyed her every single time she thought about it; which was a lot. So was it surprising that she was pitching a hissy fit, knowing he was in town and still so far away? She could not face him at dinner; it would be written all over her face how she felt and it would hurt so much to see how little he cared now. She still loved him as much as she had when it had all fallen apart. She missed him so bad it hurt and drinking Logan’s whisky and being a brat was about all she had left in her to do.
“Wait, what do you mean I have a date with Logan? I don’t like him like that, and didn’t he meet someone when he was away?”
Best to focus on something she could talk about without the gross sobbing again. Logan was handsome, he was rich and he was a wonderful man and he was easily the kind of guy that any girl could fall for. However, Gwyn did not have room in her heart for anyone else in a romantic sense. She had been in love with Adrian and she was still completely in love with Lance. And Logan had cut short his trip to the forest and returned home yesterday with a beautiful woman who he had found in the forest.
“It’s not a date like that, pet. I want him to work with you on your meditation. You need something to take control of yourself again, Gwyn; you’re woefully close to having some kind of breakdown and we both know that there is too much coming for you to be some catatonic mess who wastes a good glass of whisky and a pint of blood.”
Gwyn grumbled.
Myrddin was right.
As always.
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