The Cottage Around the Corner by D. L. Soria

Author:D. L. Soria [Soria, D. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Random House Worlds
Published: 2024-09-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

I woke up with a desert-dry mouth and a dull headache thudding in the back of my skull. I blinked blearily, disoriented by the unfamiliar ceiling I was staring at. After a few seconds, I realized I was on Fitz’s couch, and the events of last night came rushing back to me, momentarily replacing my headache with a giddy whirl. We’d stayed up into the wee hours of the morning, talking and touching and soaking up each other’s company. I’d kept saying I needed to get home but never managed to make it to the door. I didn’t remember falling asleep, but it wasn’t a surprise.

I rolled onto my stomach to hide my face from the sunlight streaming through the windows. Beneath my head wasn’t the same round throw pillow I’d been using last night. It was a regular pillow with a soft cotton case. I breathed in the fresh, bracing smell of eucalyptus that I now recognized as the scent of Fitz’s shampoo and smiled. I was considering drifting back to sleep when a panicked thought struck me. It was Monday.

I grabbed my phone from the coffee table where I’d left it last night after texting my parents to let them know I wasn’t dead or dying. It was almost ten. I should have opened the shop two hours ago.

“Shit.” I bolted upright and scrambled to disentangle my legs from a blanket that had appeared at some point in the night. My head was pounding with a new ferocity. As I pocketed my phone, I noticed a glass of water on the table beside a bottle of ibuprofen. Bless you, Fitz.

I gulped down some water and pills and climbed to my feet. As I rounded the arm of the couch, I kicked the butterfly box and it tumbled over, losing its lid. The butterflies fluttered free in a cloud of orange. I stared in astonished confusion as they dispersed. Fitz had said they wouldn’t stay animated for long after he stopped feeding them magic. Maybe he was underestimating his own power.

At any rate, I didn’t have time to figure it out. I snatched a few butterflies out of the air, careful not to crush the paper, but soon realized I also didn’t have time to round them all up. A few were already lazily flapping their way to the ceiling.

I took a hesitant step down the corridor toward the bedrooms, wondering if Fitz was awake yet. I didn’t want to run out—and leave his house infested with origami butterflies—without saying goodbye.

I heard his voice and took a few more steps. One of the doors was open a crack, and I realized he was talking on the phone. It wasn’t a pleasant conversation by the sound of it.

“That’s not fair, and you know it,” he snapped. I could almost picture him pacing and running his hand through his hair. “No…no…I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

I retreated to the front of the house, deciding not to interrupt. But I also didn’t have time to wait for the call to end.

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