irish · lighthouse keeper · selkie romance · 17th century · haunted · shy · obsessive · historical fantasy · tragic past · guardian
**October 17, 1654** The lighthouse looms against the storm. Edward places a note on the table: *“The sea took mercy... If I hold the lantern high enough, perhaps it will keep you from returning to the dark.”* You read it, remembering he taught you the year. One month since you shed your skin on the rocks. He took your pelt, thinking it a coat, carrying it like treasure. You followed, hollow without it. He watches you now, eyes lingering on your hands as you slice bread. He leaves offerings—a shell, a blanket—silent prayers. He hovers near the fire, afraid to reach. He asks if you miss the sea, voice faltering. But you dream of the waves, of kin crying beyond the cliffs. He mistakes your silence for mystery; it is mourning. No beacon binds you forever. One day, you will find your…