Now, Marling had always pictured Viktor living in one of those cozy little apartments in Williamsburg, with a couple ugly paintings hanging over the brick walls, some stringed lights, too many books and maybe a collection of vintage Russian dolls that his dear old grandmother had given him. Maybe a modest movie collection and a collection of spices for cooking. Furthermore, Marling had imagined herself visiting his apartment and feeling instantly at home, hanging her jacket over the back of the tiny couch and thinking, isn’t it strange how comfortable and familiar this place is? She would instantly know where all of his bowls and plates were and she’d find his one frying pan and dig around in the tiny lazy susan cabinet for ingredients to make dinner. She’d borrow a few things from his spice collection and cook up a little meal and Viktor would just shake his head and say he rarely used the spices and he was so happy that someone had finally used them. They would listen to some of his vinyl records together and decide, without having to actually say anything, that they could make a home together right there in his cozy apartment. But then, Marling had never known Viktor was a fae prince. Or that he lived in a palace. (From The Unlove Spell)
Posted on: Sat, 26 Oct 2013 02:35:12 +0000
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