The sound of my voice.
The way my name feels in her mouth.
Forget I ever existed.
That we spoke. That we touched.
That I loved her.
I sigh.
The vegetables are heavy in my stomach now, but they are not enough. Nora is human. She does not recover from exertion the way I do. She cannot simply consume what grows from the earth and be restored.
Tomorrow, I will require all my strength.
But tonight—
Tonight, I will see to hers.
Nora
He moves so quietly I don’t even hear him coming. He’s just suddenly there, standing beside me with his hands full.
He drops the items into my lap, and I gasp. Delighted.
I pick them up and examine them one by one.
“A burrito? Soft pretzel? Popcorn!” I stick my face into the bucket and inhale its buttery scent. “Sorren! These are all still warm. How’d you do this?”
He sits down next to me, stretches out his long legs, and shrugs like he didn’t just perform a miracle.
“I broke into the snack shack. I thought you might prefer a warm meal to this.”
He empties his pockets, revealing an assortment of vegetables. A tomato rolls across the floor, only stopping when it bumps into the wall and settles back with a wobble. A butterfly lands on it immediately, as if claiming it for herself.
“Wow.” I eye him as I unwrap the burrito and shove it into my mouth. I hum happily, then mumble around the food, “You’re becoming quite the little thief, aren’t you?”
He frowns at the wordlittleand glances down at himself. “I do not think I am too small, do you?” he asks, looking honestly concerned.
I laugh, hiding my mouth behind my hand. “No, not too little.”
That appears to mollify him. He leans back against the wall and gives me a slow smile.
“Besides,” he adds, “I would steal anything for you.”
My heart trips at that, the easy, honest way he says it. Like it’s no big deal. A rabbit prince breaking and entering to bring me snacks.
He doesn’t know it’s a big deal to me.
Huge, really.
I swallow the burrito with some effort, choked up by his admission. He hands over a bottle of water without my asking, its sides slick with condensation. I take several big gulps.
I eat the rest of the food in silence, my eyes on Sorren and the butterflies that dance around him like they’re begging for his attention. They land on his shoulder, his hair, in his hand. He smiles at each one, a gentle giant holding carefully still for them.
I’m almost jealous of them for taking his focus away from me.
“They like you,” I say after I’ve finished my meal. I carefully bundle the trash together and put it in a pile at my side. I’ll throw it out later.
