She kept turning the bracelet in her hand, the chain catching against the light with every tiny movement.
Her thumb brushed the same charm—the crown—again and again, like she was memorising the shape, the details, the idea of it being hers.
I leaned forward, elbows on the counter. “You ever watchSleeping Beauty?” Her head snapped up, confused, and I nodded toward the charm, “same name. Thought maybe you’d like it.”
She smiled, just faintly, then shook her head. “L-Layla said Rapunzel.”
“Rapunzel?” I frowned. “You?”
She just nodded.
Curiosity got the better of me. I grabbed my phone and searched it up. Rapunzel. Blonde hair, green eyes, trapped butstill… bright. Hopeful. The more I scrolled, I saw another photo. Same princess but with shorter hair, brown now.
Wait.
I looked from the screen to her sitting there in her soft sweater, brown hair falling past her shoulders, light hitting her eyes in this warm, caramel way.
Different coloured eyes, different hair length… but—
“Yeah,” I murmured. “She might be right.”
Her gaze flicked up to me, a question in her eyes. I turned the phone toward her, showing the picture, and she smiled, one of those quiet, knowing ones that made me also smile a bit.
She tilted her head then, studying me for a moment before she pointed to my eyes.
I blinked. “What?”
“G-green eyes. Like her.”
For a second, I didn’t know what to do with that. The air shifted, quiet, warm.
I huffed a breath and looked away, pretending to scoff, though I could feel the corner of my mouth twitch. “I don’t have Rapunzel eyes,” I muttered, but she just nodded stubbornly.
Her eyes said it all: soft, sure, like she saw something in me I didn’t.
“SoTangledinstead, then?” I asked, making her sit up straight, nodding.
I guess Joshua Lockhart is going to be watching Disney tonight.
We ended up on the couch a few minutes after I finished washing the rest of the dishes.
Aurora tucked her legs under herself on the couch. Honey instantly climbed into her lap like it was routine. The kitten curled up, purring, her tiny paws pressed against the soft fabric of Aurora’s sweater.
She looked so damn at peace it was disarming.
I sat at the other end of the couch, pretending to scroll through my phone while she focused on the movie, but after a few minutes, I gave up. The glow from the TV painted her skin gold and pink, the colours flickering across her face every time Rapunzel laughed.
When the character hummed that little melody, Aurora’s mouth curved. Just a small smile, but it reached her eyes.
Honey purred louder, tail flicking, perfectly content on her lap. Aurora absentmindedly scratched behind her ear with her good hand, attention glued to the screen.
I should’ve been watching the movie. Instead, I watched her. It was stupidly fitting. The scene where Rapunzel leaves the tower for the first time, sunlight spilling over everything. Freedom and fear all mixed together.
When she noticed me looking, she froze. Then, without a word, she gestured for me to sit closer, tapping the spot beside her.
I hesitated, but I moved, anyway. Honey didn’t protest when I sat down, just stretched, yawned, and rested her chin on Aurora’s cast.
By the time the movie reached the lantern scene, Aurora leaned slightly to the side, shoulder brushing mine, the faint smell of her sweet scent cutting through the warmth of the room.
