“How about this: I’ll make food you can eat, and you’ll let me know if it’s any good. I hate that not many places include a menu for people who can’t have the standard dishes.”
“Oh, I feel this. I have a whole blog about it.”
“You what?” I sat cross-legged and let my tentacles rest at my sides.
“It’s nothing. You’ll laugh. Everyone does.” Even as Kaos said it, he wiggled closer and put my lower tentacle around his waist.
“Try me.”
“I post my opinions about food places I go to, how easy it is to get alternative dishes, whether I have to ask several times and feel like an idiot, or whether it's considered normal.”
“Sounds very useful and informative to me.” One of my tentacles inched toward Kaos, and I let it, watching it caterpillar its way to his knee.
“I posted about going to Chicago, and I promised I’d report about the food, so people commented with names of places to check out.”
“But you’re stuck here.” With me.
“Yeah.” He took my tentacle off his leg and played with it absent-mindedly, stroking the delicate skin between suckers.
He was as far from afraid or repulsed by my tentacles as possible. A phenomenon I haven’t experienced with a non-tentacled person before. Not to that extent. “I’ll be your cook, and this house will be our restaurant until the end of the storm.”
“Really?” His ears perked up. “Will you let me take pics and videos of the food?”
“Sure, why not.”
“I can keep you anonymous if you’d like.” He hugged my tentacle like it was a fluffy toy he’d just received as a gift.
“Yeah, I’d rather not show my face.”
“When can we start?”
I chuckled. “Come here.” I hoisted him up in my tentacles, using the permission he’d given me to carry him around. “You good?”
“Mmhmm.” He released a happy giggle and rested his head on my shoulder.
I nuzzled the furry shell of his ear as I transported him in a bridal carry to the living room and deposited him on the couch. He sprang from it and rummaged through the bookshelves and cabinets on both sides of the TV like a raccoon in a trash can.
“What are you looking for? I crossed my arms, but left the amused smile on my face. He must have cast some kind of spell on me, because there was no way I ever found anyone so adorable so quickly.
“This!” He thrust a box in the air in triumph. If it was a movie, a sun-blinding aura would surround him.
“Puzzles?”
“Yup.” He popped the p. “Don’t you like them?”
“I do.”
“When was the last time you put one together?”
He got me there. “Probably when I was a kid.”
“Care to join me and crack this bad boy?”
I chuckled. “Sure.”
“You can’t cook all day.”
“Yes I can. And half of the night too. Then sleep and repeat.”
