Page 22 of Rapunzel Is Losing It

When ten minutes passed without another text from her, I stalked to the front door, opened it, slammed it shut, and waited in the hallway.

Five seconds, then her desk chair rattled over the floorboards. Another five before her office door opened. That demonic cat shot out and up the stairs first, then a head of messy blonde hair followed. Seemed like she’d been fidgeting with her hair a lot today. She bent around the doorframe to look down the hall towards the kitchen.

Not avoiding me- my ass.

When she finally turned the other direction and spotted me, her whole body twitched.

“Crackers,” she hissed, clutching her hand to her chest.

Her ability to avoid swearing, even when startled, still kept me on my toes.Crackerswas new.

“Your food is getting cold.” I wasn’t going to give her the chance to disappear again. Not when she was starving herself because of me. Without waiting for her reply, I wrapped my arm around her waist and hauled her into the hallway.

“Victor,” she screeched, slapping my arm.

Instead of relenting to her struggles, I just lifted her up. Despite her height, and those long smooth legs, Cordelia wasstill a few inches shorter than me. She kicked her feet and let out a yelp, but she wasn’t getting a choice in this. Sometimes keeping Cordelia alive just meant reminding her of her basic physical needs, like food and water.

By the time I set her down in the kitchen, her face had gone bright red, and her chest was rising and falling fast. Lips trembling, she tugged her ruffly pink sweater back into place. Her storm blue eyes bored into mine, wordless anger simmering beneath the surface. All riled up and with her hair a mess, she almost looked like she’d just gotten laid.

The thought echoed through my skull.

Fuck.

That wasnotthe right direction.

I tore my gaze away from hers and forced myself to focus on my hands when I got the potatoes out of the oven. It was just that kiss messing with my head. Nothing more. It had been three days and I swore I could still taste her sweet mouth on my tongue. God, I wanted more of it.

“Talk,” I barked, maybe a bit too gruff, but I needed her to fix my brain. Say something smart and pure and seemingly random, so she could return to beingjustCordelia.

“How do you feel about going to the movies? Like, popcorn, movie theater, as an activity, what’s your opinion?”

Perfect. Yes. Random question.

“I don’t know. Never been,” I replied, plating our food.

“You’ve never been?”

“I don’t really watch things.”

She huffed, clearly not finding the answer she was looking for. “What about taking walks?” she asked and followed me to the dinner table.

This was good. Random conversation. Dinner as always, sitting across from Cordelia. I set down her plate, with nothingbut potato and sour cream, and mine with some vegetables stuffed into the potato. “Walk where?” I asked.

“No destination. Just taking walks.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. People take walks, right? Sunset walks, beach walks. It’s a thing.”

“Can’t I just go for a run instead? At least I’ll be getting something out of it.”

“I’m assuming people do find some sort of fulfillment in taking a stroll down the shore for an hour.”

I shrugged and shook my head. If I’d ever taken a walk, I couldn’t remember it. I’d definitely never taken a sunset beach stroll. “Never tried it.”

“Dinner at a restaurant?”

I blinked. “You’re listingoutsideactivities.” Not outside as innature, outside as innot-in-this-house. Activities Cordelia couldn’t take part in. We’d venturedoutsideonly a few times over the last years, usually for medical reasons.

---