Page 6 of Chased By the Fairy

A television played a slow song as Sorrel mimicked the couple dancing on the screen. He played the lead male, acting out the movie step by step from memory. His mother watched with a loving gaze, while seated in the plush green armchair next to an electric heater.

She hummed along to the song for Sorrel’s encouragement.

“You seem to really like this movie,” Greta stated once the next scene in the movie played. It was the princess and prince sharing a passionate kiss.

He spun the other way before pretending to dip his invisible dancing partner in order to hide his grimace.

Sorrel actually hated it. It was a little too cutesy and romantic for his taste, and watching other couples achieve their happily ever after left a cold sensation in the pit of his gut.

But he danced and acted out the movie because Greta enjoyed watching him do so.

Turning his face from his invisible partner to look up at herwith a smile, he pretended to waltz once more as the end credits began softly chiming.

His hair swayed behind him as he asked, “Do you think I would ever be able to go to a ballroom and dance?”

“Yes,” she lied for his sake, her own smile softening. He pretended he didn’t see the pity that now glinted in her gaze. “And all the fair maidens would want to dance with you.”

His cheeks heated when he suddenly thought of Cypress as his dancing partner.

“And sirs.” He chuckled, twirling in a circle that would have been too fast if he had a partner. He stumbled when her smile fell, and she did a double take at what he’d said. Sorrel paused. “I can’t dance with the prince too?”

She leaned forward in her chair and carefully lifted his chin. He stopped her by grabbing her finger that was as tall as he was and hugged the very tip.

“You can dance with anyone your heart desires, as long as it makes you happy, my little flower petal.”

A wide grin spread across his features.

“I’ll dance with the princess and the prince.” Then he let go of her finger to roll back, somersaulting until he landed back on his feet. He grabbed the hilt of the fake toy sword he’d strapped to his waist in preparation for the action scenes, and swung it side to side. “I’ll dance with everyone after I slay the mighty dragon.”

She laughed, such a musical sound, and tenderness sprouted in his chest. That’s all he ever wanted. He just wanted to hear her laugh. To break her silence with joy and love – even if he knew it wasridiculouson his part.

How Sorrel came into his life was rather odd. Greta had driven to town to sell her extra vegetables at the market, and a lady selling crystals and tarot cards approached her. She handed Greta a barley seed, claiming she was a friend of the fairies and that it would fulfil her deepest wish.

Greta had been so lonely that she hadn’t even questioned it, planting a seed in the hope something humanoid would sprout from it – despite doubting that anything would.

She’d never had a child of her own, and he knew that’s what he was to her. Her child, no matter that they were so different.

“You better watch out.” She placed her empty teacup on its plate and stood with the intention of leaving. It was late, and he’d known she would quickly depart once the movie ended. “If you are the shining knight and the handsome prince, then there will be no one else left in your stories.”

He stabbed forward into the air. “I can be the villain too.”

“You are too sweet to be the villain, my dear child.”

Sorrel chuckled before he bowed to her. “Well, you are my princess. You are the only one I am willing to save, my fair maiden.”

Greta, his mother, giggled from the doorway. “My days of being a fair maiden are truly over, Sorrel. Goodnight.”

She shuffled out of the room with her items and softly closed the door behind her, leaving him alone in his bedroom.

He didn’t need such a spacious room, which could have fit a double bed and side table. A broom closet would have been enough for him, although he did like having a window.

There was a desk, a coffee table, and the large armchair she’d been occupying. A doll’s house sat on top of the desk so it could face the window, and he often stared out at the night sky from the smaller one in the wall of his toy bedroom while he tried to sleep. His mother had owned the miniature house since she was a child and had brought it down from the attic when he’d come into her life – along with all her doll’s clothes.

The coffee table he stood upon was constantly cluttered with items. Anything he could use to entertain himself with if he wasn’t by her side, helping her with all her chores. Coins, athimble, random sewing items he used to make the doll clothing smaller for himself.

There were books he’d used to educate himself with. He’d flushed at the sex education book, not that he would ever need to utilise any of its information. The television was also a source of information, and he often watched it to learn about faraway forests and their animals, countries and their people.

Now that she was gone, he allowed his bright expression to fall.

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