The Irish's Sanity

Chapter Twenty Six

Sorry for the long chapter and any grammatical errors.🤍
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I gazed at my reflection, ready for the party, a mix of excitement and anxiety coursing through me. It had been a while since I'd been around a large crowd, and the idea of human interaction felt both exciting and nerve-wracking. I usually felt out of place in large spaces with numerous people, but today I craved that discomfort.

My own reflection stared back at me as I ran my hands through my hair. I felt oddly invigorated – whether it was the excitement, nerves, or perhaps the satisfaction of having done my hair, I couldn't tell. My eyes lingered on my chosen hairstyle – a mixture of braids and cornrows with curls known as "sweet and sour." I rarely experimented with cornrows due to my sensitive scalp, but I decided to give it a shot. Surprisingly, I liked the outcome, and I enjoyed how my hair's versatility managed to intrigue Lachlan in a charming manner. I found it adorable.

My hairdresser, provided by Lachlan, skillfully executed the intricate style. I couldn't help but admire Lachlan's meticulous grooming habits. His hair and beard were consistently well-kept, a testament to his fastidiousness. He may be a savage beast, but he was undoubtedly a handsome and impeccably clean one.

Shifting my focus, I appreciated how my dress complemented my curves perfectly. The neckline had a plunging design that managed to be sensual without being overly revealing- the grey colour of the body con dress made the brown pigment of my skin glow in a manner I couldn't believe. I thought of my best friend, knowing she would be thrilled with my choice, she was literally my biggest fan.

Anele would be proud of me just as I was; I haven't felt self-conscious in a long time more especially after meeting Lachlan. His adoration for my body in every form had contributed in a great way. Even my stretch marks became sexy, a testament to the way he cherished and embraced every part of me. Every fibre of my being was terrified of the Viking man but he had achieved something I didn't think was possible– silencing my insecurities.

Despite this newfound confidence, I still remained shy and apprehensive around him. My preference for loose clothing was something I would never part with, although they were  becoming harder to find. Since Lachlan revamped my wardrobe, sweatpants were a thing of the past, at least with T-shirts I used his because they were baggy but his sweatpants didn't even begin to fit me because of my smaller frame compared to his gigantic Viking genes.

My position in his life remained unclear, something I wasn't ready to confront. His gaze conveyed emotions that defied sanity, leaving me petrified. He looked at me as if I were his soul, yet there was a primal intense hunger mixed with possessiveness that sent my nerves into overdrive. It was unsettling and at the same time exhilarating – a mess of emotions that I couldn't begin to untangle. To be precise it petrified me. I didn't think any sane person would understand neither did I. My stomach fluttered, and goosebumps trailed over my skin. It was twisted, but it was my truth.

After one last glance in the mirror, I decided to leave. We were at one of Lachlan's properties, reminiscent of the one in Ireland. This one was grander, similar to a sprawling hotel. His sisters had asked to stay over instead of the rented hotel rooms, and I agreed, not wanting to be alone with Lachlan – the very reason for this trip. Later, I learned they only asked me because they knew Lachlan would have declined their request. I wasn't surprised he was very mean when he had the chance. I didn't mind; I welcomed their presence.

As I prepared to depart, I suspected most of the guests had already left. We were running late, and despite my enthusiasm, exhaustion weighed me down. Strangely, if I were anyone else, pregnancy might have been creeping on me, yet my only concern was the fact that Lachlan wasn't human, I barely slept.