Chapter 13:
A whole new Cosmos
Constantine:
“I can’t believe it, this is a pixie,” Daniel points at the TV. We are looking at the news report for Ursula 390, where the inhabitants look like what the humans think of as pixies. “Even her voice is squeaky!”
“Never tell a Fae that their voice is squeaky. They are very touchy on the subject,” I say, and then see in the bottom line, a sentence that makes me blink.
Happiness thief strikes again. This time in...
“I can’t believe that something like a horde of rampaging purple pigs will make it to the news. How big are those pigs, even?” Daniel asks, and I blink, not managing to see where the theft was this time.
“Well, the Fae are as big as a Naga’s hand. So, the pigs, even though they are no bigger than the pigs on Earth, are big enough to raze villages, and get down to plenty of mayhem,” I say, absentmindedly.
I wonder who the thief is? Why are they even stealing the potions, when there is nothing to restrict their sale? Surely, it will be more expensive to break into storehouses, than it is to buy a bottle of happiness?
“So, can I take a sip of your potions?” Daniel asks, and I blush.
“Uhm, Daniel, that is not something you ask someone you have known only for a week,” I say, trying to convey to him just how inappropriate it is.
“But you sell the potions, right? What is the difference?” Daniel asks. My blush deepens.
“What you asked of me, is akin to asking me for sex before the first date,” I tell him. He blinks at me, so I am quick to add. “When I sell my emotions, I don’t have any connection with the buyer. There is nothing personal between me and the person on the other side of the exchange.”
“But I really want to try a potion,” he whines at me. I bite my lower lip. “Come on, Tine. Just a sip? How about this: You can teach me how I can bottle my emotions, and I will let you drink whatever it is that I am feeling.”
I cough in my hand, trying to keep my heart from racing.
“That is how marriage proposals are made. Most people in the Cosmos add such words in their marriage vows,” I stutter, and he sighs.
“Come, on,” he whines even more, and I sigh.
“Fine, fine. There is this special potion that I bottled up after speaking to you, one day. You can have that one,” I say, and get out of my chair. The baked potatoes are still not done yet, and neither are the mincemeat bird nests. I have time. I go to my room, and take the orange bottle with the red bubbles. The one that I refused to sell.
It sorts of feels like the right thing to do. Giving it to Daniel, I mean. He was the one who made me feel the emotions bottled in the solvent. If there is anyone who has the right to know what I felt in that hour, then it is him. I go back to the kitchen, to see him playing with the remote.
“This thing has Candy Crush,” he says, as his fingers move, to align the candy pieces.
“You’ll exhaust the battery. Turn the game off,” I say, and he presses buttons, until the game is turned off. I hand him the potion, and sit on my former spot. “Bottoms up.”
He looks at the potion, and smiles.
“This looks nice; what emotion is it?” He asks, as he opens the bottle.
“I have no idea. I felt it after talking to you, as I already told you. It could be annoyance,” I say, and he snorts. After he takes a tentative sip from the potion, he closes his eyes, and leans into his chair.
“I know what this emotion is,” he says, before taking another sip. “But I won’t tell you. You are not ready to know.”
“Suit yourself,” I say, as he continues to drink. When he is done with the potion, he licks his lips, and gives me a smile that makes his laugh lines stand out.
That smile does weird things to my stomach. Or, am I coming down with the flu? Maybe I ate something that has gone off, earlier? I think my peanut butter was a bit too chunky, now that I think about it.
“Do you have any other emotions? Ones that you bottled, while we spoke?” He asks me, and I nod.
“There is one more bittersweet bottle, I guess. But I was hoping to sell it,” I say. He furrows his eyebrows.
“I make you experience bittersweet feelings? Why?” He places the bottle with the unknown potion down, and rests his chin on his hands.
“Well, we were never going to meet. Bringing humans to Ursula 590 is not illegal, but you can never leave. If you weren’t a mage, I would have never uprooted you from your life, no matter how much I wanted to spend my time with you,” I tell him. He hums. A sound so content, that it puts me at ease.
“So, you wanted us to spend time together? But you felt like we never can. I was the reason for your bitterness? Yet, you were happy that we got to get to know one another? Did I get it right?” Daniel asks, and I nod.
“There are other things. You made me ask myself some uncomfortable questions about the extinct animals, but what you listed as reasoning is still valid,” I tell him. He chuckles.
“You are adorable. Now, you really have to teach me how to bottle emotions. I think a potion might open your eyes,” he tells me, and I pout at him.
“I am not adorable,” I retort.
“Or, it will confuse you even more. At any rate, you will become all the cuter,” he winks at me, and my stomach does a flip. Note to self: check the expiration date on the peanut butter.
Chapter 13:
A whole new Cosmos
Constantine:
“I can’t believe it, this is a pixie,” Daniel points at the TV. We are looking at the news report for Ursula 390, where the inhabitants look like what the humans think of as pixies. “Even her voice is squeaky!”
“Never tell a Fae that their voice is squeaky. They are very touchy on the subject,” I say, and then see in the bottom line, a sentence that makes me blink.
Happiness thief strikes again. This time in...
“I can’t believe that something like a horde of rampaging purple pigs will make it to the news. How big are those pigs, even?” Daniel asks, and I blink, not managing to see where the theft was this time.
“Well, the Fae are as big as a Naga’s hand. So, the pigs, even though they are no bigger than the pigs on Earth, are big enough to raze villages, and get down to plenty of mayhem,” I say, absentmindedly.
I wonder who the thief is? Why are they even stealing the potions, when there is nothing to restrict their sale? Surely, it will be more expensive to break into storehouses, than it is to buy a bottle of happiness?
“So, can I take a sip of your potions?” Daniel asks, and I blush.
“Uhm, Daniel, that is not something you ask someone you have known only for a week,” I say, trying to convey to him just how inappropriate it is.
“But you sell the potions, right? What is the difference?” Daniel asks. My blush deepens.
“What you asked of me, is akin to asking me for sex before the first date,” I tell him. He blinks at me, so I am quick to add. “When I sell my emotions, I don’t have any connection with the buyer. There is nothing personal between me and the person on the other side of the exchange.”
“But I really want to try a potion,” he whines at me. I bite my lower lip. “Come on, Tine. Just a sip? How about this: You can teach me how I can bottle my emotions, and I will let you drink whatever it is that I am feeling.”
I cough in my hand, trying to keep my heart from racing.
“That is how marriage proposals are made. Most people in the Cosmos add such words in their marriage vows,” I stutter, and he sighs.
“Come, on,” he whines even more, and I sigh.
“Fine, fine. There is this special potion that I bottled up after speaking to you, one day. You can have that one,” I say, and get out of my chair. The baked potatoes are still not done yet, and neither are the mincemeat bird nests. I have time. I go to my room, and take the orange bottle with the red bubbles. The one that I refused to sell.
It sorts of feels like the right thing to do. Giving it to Daniel, I mean. He was the one who made me feel the emotions bottled in the solvent. If there is anyone who has the right to know what I felt in that hour, then it is him. I go back to the kitchen, to see him playing with the remote.
“This thing has Candy Crush,” he says, as his fingers move, to align the candy pieces.
“You’ll exhaust the battery. Turn the game off,” I say, and he presses buttons, until the game is turned off. I hand him the potion, and sit on my former spot. “Bottoms up.”
He looks at the potion, and smiles.
“This looks nice; what emotion is it?” He asks, as he opens the bottle.
“I have no idea. I felt it after talking to you, as I already told you. It could be annoyance,” I say, and he snorts. After he takes a tentative sip from the potion, he closes his eyes, and leans into his chair.
“I know what this emotion is,” he says, before taking another sip. “But I won’t tell you. You are not ready to know.”
“Suit yourself,” I say, as he continues to drink. When he is done with the potion, he licks his lips, and gives me a smile that makes his laugh lines stand out.
That smile does weird things to my stomach. Or, am I coming down with the flu? Maybe I ate something that has gone off, earlier? I think my peanut butter was a bit too chunky, now that I think about it.
“Do you have any other emotions? Ones that you bottled, while we spoke?” He asks me, and I nod.
“There is one more bittersweet bottle, I guess. But I was hoping to sell it,” I say. He furrows his eyebrows.
“I make you experience bittersweet feelings? Why?” He places the bottle with the unknown potion down, and rests his chin on his hands.
“Well, we were never going to meet. Bringing humans to Ursula 590 is not illegal, but you can never leave. If you weren’t a mage, I would have never uprooted you from your life, no matter how much I wanted to spend my time with you,” I tell him. He hums. A sound so content, that it puts me at ease.
“So, you wanted us to spend time together? But you felt like we never can. I was the reason for your bitterness? Yet, you were happy that we got to get to know one another? Did I get it right?” Daniel asks, and I nod.
“There are other things. You made me ask myself some uncomfortable questions about the extinct animals, but what you listed as reasoning is still valid,” I tell him. He chuckles.
“You are adorable. Now, you really have to teach me how to bottle emotions. I think a potion might open your eyes,” he tells me, and I pout at him.
“I am not adorable,” I retort.
“Or, it will confuse you even more. At any rate, you will become all the cuter,” he winks at me, and my stomach does a flip. Note to self: check the expiration date on the peanut butter.
