I clear my throat and start reading from the beginning, keeping an eye on Eloise occasionally. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep, and when she does, I slowly lower my voice so the lull of it doesn’t stop abruptly.
I don’t move for a long time. Holding her and staring at her peaceful face is enough to make me nearly choke up. My girl has no fucking idea what it means to be Little, but she went to a lot of trouble to bring all these friends over to the corner so she could read to them.
My heart is full.
I wouldn’t care if Eloise never showed any interest in age play, but fuck me sideways. I’d bet my wallet she’s got a Little side just waiting to come out and play.
Chapter Eleven
Eloise
* * *
I awaken with a start and push to sitting. My heart is racing, but that’s nothing new. My heart always races when I first wake up from a deeper sleep than I normally allow myself.
I look around, breathing heavily. It takes me a few seconds to remember where I am and how I got here. I blink several times, not sure whether to actually believe this is real.
The events of yesterday flood back into my mind. It seems so long ago since I screamed at my car on the side of the road right before being lured like a fool into letting a man help me…
As I sit on the mattress, I notice I’m surrounded by dolls and books. The pink bedding was tucked around me before I sat up. The room is bright and sunny because there are no window coverings, and I’m good with that. Blinds and curtains make me feel cooped up.
There’s a doll in my lap. I think I was sleeping with her in my arms. In fact, I held her against me while Cannon read me a book in the middle of the night.
I start shaking because I’m so…embarrassed? I don’t think I need to be embarrassed. I might have carried all the dolls and animals over here, but I’m not the one who supplied them. And I’m not the one who tucked this pretty babydoll into my arms and insinuated she needed to face out so she could see the book. That was Cannon.
But why?
He’s confusing. When he looks at me, his eyes smolder with the usual interest I see from men. Lust. Though Cannon’s isn’t so lascivious. He isn’t plotting how to cover my mouth and drag me out the back door to rape me. He just finds me attractive.
So why would he also seemingly encourage me to play with toys?
I turn to set my feet on the floor next to the mattress and freeze. There’s a plate on the floor next to me with a pack of toaster pastries and a sippy cup. There’s also a note.
I pick up the paper.
Eloise, I thought you might wake up hungry and thirsty, so I left you a snack in case you weren’t ready to come out of your room yet.
He’s so thoughtful. And he’s right. I’m starving and very thirsty. I’m also not ready to leave this room. I need to think.
I pick up the sippy cup and spin it around, giggling. It’s got princesses on the side. Why would he give me a sippy cup? I’m not a child. Maybe he just didn’t want me to accidentally kick it over when I awoke.
This same man dragged a mattress over to the window for me. He helped me set up the dolls along the wall and read me a story. I shouldn’t be surprised that he left me a sippy cup of apple juice.
It’s been so long since I’ve had toaster pastries that I wolf both down and polish off the juice. Eventually, I stand and look out the window. The city below is bustling. So many cars bumper to bumper. And the people walking on the sidewalks look like they’ll die if they don’t hurry.
I’m fascinated by the fact that I can’t hear anything. The glass is thick. It makes everything feel more surreal, as if it’s not really happening. More like a moving picture.
The sun is high in the sky. I’d say it’s almost noon. I’ve never slept this late in my life, but I’ve never had the opportunity to either. I could get used to this, but I mustn’t. One day. I’ll give myself today to pretend I’m one of the lucky ones.
Part of me would love to spend the entire day hiding in this perfect room. I feel like a princess in here. But that would be rude. The man who rescued me and gave me a place to sleep deserves for me to make an appearance and be polite.
I step off the mattress and hurry over to the bathroom. After using the toilet, washing my hands, and brushing my teeth, I detangle my hair. It feels so soft from the expensive shampoo and conditioner. I haven’t had nice shampoo in years, and I haven’t had conditioner at all. Most of the time, I didn’t even bother to comb through my hair. It was too hard without conditioner.
Curious, I open the other drawers on the vanity and discover cute hair bands and even bows. They’re so pretty. A lot of them are pink. I’ve never thought about pink. It was never a color that called to me. But now that I’m surrounded by it, I like it.
Pink is making me feel girly and pretty. It’s making me smile. I have the strangest sensation that I’m embracing all the childish things in this odd room because I never had them as a kid.
I have a fun idea, so I hurry back into the bedroom, open the drawers, and choose yet another pink outfit. This one is more like a dress with matching leggings. I put them on and then return to the bathroom to clip the pink bows in my hair.
