Page 32 of Madness Becomes Her
A comfortable silence befalls us as he removes his pants and dresses. Every part of me begs the universe to allow him to turn around, but the angel on my shoulder scolds me for such wantonness.
Even while I should avert my eyes, I stare at his perfect ass. It flexes as he shoves into his pants, foregoing his briefs. I don’t know why I find that so fucking thrilling.
“What are we doing today? Tea?” I ask him.
When he turns back around fully dressed, I choke and take in his smirk. “We’re going to Erotsy.”
My curiosity peaked, I ask, “Where?”
“Erotsy. The city? You need clothes. I assume your old clothes won’t fit you. You’re much more… voluptuous.”
I hate how hot it makes me that he thinks I’m voluptuous.
“Yes. I need more clothes. I can’t keep wearing yours.” I shimmy into some pants of his, knotting them at the hips and folding the bottoms up.
“You’ll want some dresses, I’m sure.”
I can’t actually remember the last time I wore a dress, but it might be the socially acceptable thing to wear in a realm such as Wonderland.
Finlo leads the way into the kitchen, where a spread of food and tea is already set out when I know I was the one who woke him.
“Do you have a private cook?” I ask, grabbing a pastry while he pours me some tea.
“No. The mice come and prepare treats. I hope I never anger them.”
I swallow a bite of croissant, trying to ignore the fact that mice made them.
“So,” I say, trying to decide how to word my following sentence so as not to offend Finlo. “In my dream, you took me to a portal. One that went to my world.”
His chewing slows, and his green eyes fill with worry. “Yes.”
“So, there are portals?”
He clears his throat, seeming to weigh his following words the same way that I had. “There are thin points in the veil between Wonderland and the mortal realm, yes. I wouldn’t call them portals.”
“Well, I was young.”
“Verily so,” he agrees in his off-kilter way that makes me smile widely.
“Is Erotsy far from here?”
“About an hour’s ride.”
“Ride?”
Finlo nods, eyeing me warily as if he thinks I’m testing him somehow.
My memories, while returning slowly, aren’t all intact, nor do they make sense when they return.
“The horses will take us by carriage.”
“I didn’t know you had horses.”
“The stable is behind the house. I’ll show you once you finish your tea.”
The longer I know Finlo, the more normal he becomes, and I don’t know if that’s a good thing. Could it be that I’m becoming madder? Or could he only have bouts of madness?
I chug down my lukewarm tea, handing him the cup. He tosses it in the sink, shattering it to bits, causing me to jolt.
