𝙒𝙝𝙤 𝙠𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙤 𝙙𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨?
Newly graduated accountant Cordelia Ashling has come to terms with the fact that her life is destined to be absolutely uneventful. That is until her parents gift her wi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Elias isn't at breakfast the next morning, and I wish I could say I didn't care. That it didn't bother me at all to not see him or sit next to him or slide my hand onto his thigh and watch him squirm.
Because it does. I can't stand the fact that he isn't here. The look on his face when I told him I was getting away from him haunted my every waking thought last night. It was like I broke him. Why would he have reacted that way if he had anything to do with the death of the troll—whose name we have since learned was Tyler. But then again, couldn't Elias be acting?
Fuck's sake, I am so confused. I feel like I could have made a mistake, but at the same time, my dreams don't lie. Do they? I really don't know. I didn't even dream last night. My sleep was fitful with nothing but blackness as a backdrop and all I wanted was to be in his arms.
But this is just a game to him, isn't it? He just wanted to keep Lorelai off his back, and keep me protected, but why? Because he's a nice person? Or because he wanted to keep me under his thumb?
That doesn't seem right either, not after everything I've gotten to know over the past week.
"Good morning, Cora," a smooth voice says from behind me, and I look up to see Lorelai.
"Hi, Lorelai," I answer, wondering if Elias has told her anything about what happened last night.
"Sleep well?" she asks. By her tone, I am certain she knows everything.
"I did not. And I think you know why."
"You left Elias's room. What the hell happened? You two couldn't keep your hands off one another yesterday at the massage class. I thought you were about to co—"
My face blanches and I hold my hands up, shushing her. "Please, Lorelai. I'd rather not revisit it when it probably will never happen again."
"Sounds like that's your choice and not his. Why are you torturing yourself? We're all here to make a connection, and you made one with Elias."
How much can I tell her? I won't tell her the connection started off as a "fake dating" deal, but can I tell her about my dreams? But what pops out of my mouth is not what I planned at all.
"What is a coelhinha?" I blurt. "I mean, even if you don't know what it means, what—what language is it? Any ideas? I'd look it up, but—but obviously I can't. No internet."
"Portuguese," says the older fae woman down the table. Her shoulders meet the ends of her straight chestnut hair as she shrugs. "It looks like you are someone's special little bunny."
Lorelai scrunches her nose in disgust and says, "Rita, why don't you mind your own damn business. Aren't you supposed to be looking for a new playmate for you and your husband? This end of the table is the no-fucking-with-married-supes side."
Rita scoffs and mumbles, "No wonder why you show up to this event year after year and leave still single."
"You're just jealous that I get my hands on all the beautiful women before you can."
