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It doesn’t matter if it’s a tiny stick hut or a sprawling castle; if you want the scandals and the rumors, you go to the kitchen. Everyone talks in the kitchen. I think it’s the food’s fault. People go in there ready to open their mouths.
Gods, food is delicious. I want to eat more. I want to eat everything. Gimme all the foods. From now on, it’s food everywhere, all the time, every kind. I want to constantly stuff my face. Screw relationships, I’ll make food my new love. I’ve clearly been misplacing all my fantasies on love and sex. I should’ve just focused my pining on food this whole time.
I’m going to find my own true love if it kills me. And I’m going to have sex. A lot of hot, steamy sex. Because orgasms.
Nope. Not going there. Stop thinking about how he smelled. No more sniffing the captors, Emelle.
People wish and the stars try to grant, but even as the stars sacrifice themselves and fall, so many wishes are wasted, just as so much love is lost.
Annnd my love lips just filled with lady lava. He releases my finger and leans back with a triumphantly smug look on his face. Whatever expression he sees on mine makes him chuckle darkly. “Whatever you do to me, I’ll match and raise you, Scratch. Remember that.” Gods, I hope that’s a promise.
I am pot stirrer, hear me whisk.
This must be what it feels like to have friends.
Chivalry is dead.
Why do people run? It’s awful. Did you know people actually do this for fun? I saw humans do it all the time. There must be something wrong with their brains.” I narrow my eyes at him and gasp. “Oh gods, you run for fun, don’t you?” I ask. “What am I saying, of course you do. That explains why you’re so unhappy all the time.”
I’ll probably want to die later, but for now, I feel alive.
“What, first you’re our resident demon, and now you’re our angel trying to save us?” I shake my head, feeling the effects of the alcohol already swimming in my brain. “Nope. I’m your cupid, and I’m going to do what I do best. I’m going to fix your fucking hearts.”
And then one night, after hours of sweaty hate-sex, I’ll slit his throat in his sleep and stage a coup to overtake his throne.”
“Holy crap,” I say, my hand over my heart. “Oh my gods. That was a close one. You almost died right in front of me. I nearly murdered you. I would have felt so guilty. I just cleaned all the floors, and I would’ve had to do it again because of the blood. That would’ve really sucked.”
