Chapter 38

I guided the car into the packed parking lot of the county fair, my hand firmly clasping Cora’s. The fair was bustling with life, the scent of cotton candy and popcorn mingling with the laughter and shouts of the crowd. It was a stark contrast to the darkness I usually dwelled in, but tonight, it was a necessary facade.

As we walked through the throng of people, Cora’s eyes sparkled with excitement. She was in her element, soaking up the festive atmosphere, while I remained vigilant, my senses alert to any potential threats. We were here for two reasons: to build our cover story with candid photos and real-time social media posts, and to establish an alibi while my red room followers dealt with Abbie’s abusive father. It was a delicate balance, one that required precision and control.

We approached the game booths, the colorful prizes hanging above us like tempting fruit. Cora’s gaze landed on a particularly large stuffed bear, and a playful challenge lit up her face. “Go on,” she nudged me, “win me that bear.”

I grumbled under my breath but nodded, stepping up to the booth. The game was simple enough: throw darts at balloons to pop them and win the prize. I handed over the money, the worker grinning as he handed me three darts.

The first two darts flew true, the balloons bursting with satisfying pops. The crowd around us cheered, but my focus was on the final balloon, the one that stood between me and the bear. I took a deep breath, aimed, and threw. The dart sailed past the balloon, missing it by a hair’s breadth. A collective groan rose from the onlookers.

Cora laughed, her camera phone at the ready as she captured the moment. I reached for my wallet again, buying another round of darts. Again and again, I threw, each dart missing its mark. With each attempt, my frustration grew, but so did the stack of photographs capturing our time here. Cora’s laughter was infectious, and despite my irritation, I found myself smiling.

She posted the pictures to social media as soon as she took them, her fingers dancing over the screen as she captioned each one with witty comments and hashtags. I watched her, a strange sense of warmth spreading through me.

I coughed up more money, determined to win her that bear. The worker raised an eyebrow at me but said nothing, counting the bills with a practiced hand. I picked up the next set of darts, the weight of them familiar now. I took aim, my eyes narrowing as I focused on the last balloon.

This time, the dart hit its target, the balloon bursting in a shower of confetti. The crowd erupted into cheers, and Cora jumped up and down, clapping her hands in delight. I couldn’t help but laugh, the sound foreign yet liberating.

The carnival worker handed me the stuffed bear, a garish thing that was almost as big as Cora herself. She hugged it to her chest, her eyes shining with happiness. “Thank you, Haides,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to plant a kiss on my cheek.

The camera flashed, capturing the moment. Cora posted the picture, the caption reading, “The bear isn’t the only winner tonight. #FairFun #DateNight #CoupleGoals.”

We strolled through the fair, the cacophony of sounds and smells overwhelming in the most delightful way. Cora’s hand was a warm presence in mine, her laughter a melody that seemed to synchronize with the pulsating rhythm of the fairgrounds.

“I can’t believe you missed that many times,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mirth as she sipped her lemonade. The tartness of the drink made her scrunch up her nose, and I couldn’t help but chuckle.

“It’s all part of my master plan,” I replied with a smirk, “to make you appreciate my efforts when I finally succeed.”

She rolled her eyes but grinned, her fingers tightening around mine. We stopped at a food stall, the aroma of fried dough beckoning us closer. Cora’s eyes widened as she took a bite, her moan of pleasure drawing a few glances from passersby.

“Good?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Divine,” she mumbled through a mouthful of dough, her enthusiasm infectious making me steal an unsuspecting bite causing her to shout her displeasure around her mouthful.

We played more games, our competitive banter echoing through the fair. I pretended to be offended when Cora won a stuffed animal with a single throw, her aim far more accurate than mine. She paraded around with her prize, a small, plush octopus, claiming it was better than my oversized bear.

Though when a young girl looked at it with such sadness, Cora didn’t hesitate at handing over the octopus. The little girl’s energy immediately turned around as she giggled as she ran, the octopus high in the air.

I had never been more in love with a person.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, we found ourselves in line for the Ferris wheel. The sky was a canvas of vibrant colors, the twinkling lights of the fairgrounds mirroring the stars that began to pepper the night sky.

We settled into our seat last, the Ferris wheel quickly lurching into motion. Cora clutched my arm as we ascended, her grip tightening with each rotation.

“Scared of heights?” I teased, my voice barely audible over the din of the fair.

“Not at all,” she retorted, though the tremor in her voice betrayed her. “I’m just ensuring you don’t fall out.”

I laughed, the sound mingling with the music and laughter that filled the air. We took selfies at the top of the ride, the fairgrounds sprawling beneath us like a sea of lights. Cora’s smile was genuine, her joy radiating from her in waves.

We continued our journey through the fair, each moment captured in photographs and memories. The laughter and smiles were no longer just a facade; they were real, raw, and utterly unexpected.

Cora’s eyes gleamed with mischief as she handed me a set of rings, her smirk a silent challenge. “You sure you’re up for this, Haides? I’d hate to embarrass you in front of all these people.”

I scoffed, taking the rings from her outstretched hand. “Please, I could do this in my sleep.”

She laughed, the sound a melody that seemed to override the noise of the fairgrounds. “We’ll see about that.”

We stood at the line, the colorful bottles lined up like unsuspecting targets. The carnival worker watched us with a practiced eye, his fingers deftly flipping rings onto the hooks for the next set of players.

Cora went first, her form graceful as she lobbed the first ring. It sailed through the air and landed perfectly around a bottle neck. The crowd around us erupted into cheers, but Cora’s gaze was fixed on me, a triumphant glint in her eye.

“Beginner’s luck,” I murmured, though the tightness in my chest betrayed my nonchalance.

She shrugged, her grin widening. “Or maybe I’m just that good.”

I stepped up to the line, my focus narrowing to the bottles in front of me. I tossed the first ring, but it bounced off the bottle, falling to the ground with a disappointing clatter.

“Looks like you’re all talk, Anastos,” Cora teased, her tone light and playful.

I shot her a glare, though there was no real heat behind it. “Watch and learn, Lappa.”

My next few throws were no better, each ring missing its mark. Cora’s laughter was a siren song, drawing me closer to the edge of my carefully constructed composure.

“You know,” she began, leaning in as if to share a secret, “I heard the real Lord of Pain never misses.”

A growl rumbled in my chest, my competitive streak flaring to life. “Is that so?”

I took a deep breath, steadying my hand as I prepared for my final throw. The ring flew from my fingers, spinning in the air before landing around the neck of a bottle with a satisfying clink.

The crowd cheered, and I allowed myself a small, satisfied smirk. Cora clapped her hands, her laughter subsiding as she gave me a nod of approval.

“Impressive,” she admitted, “but not good enough to beat me.”

I stepped closer to her, our bodies nearly touching. “We’ll see who comes out on top,” I said, my voice low.

Her cheeks flushed a delightful shade of pink, and she quickly turned back to the game, her composure slipping for just a moment. It was enough to send a rush of satisfaction through me.

We continued to trade barbs and flirtatious jabs, our competitive natures fueling the playful banter that flowed between us. The game of ring toss became a backdrop to our burgeoning connection, each laugh and shared glance weaving a tapestry of a relationship that should never have existed.

As the night wore on, the fairgrounds blurred into a backdrop of lights and sounds, our world narrowing to the space between us. Cora’s presence was intoxicating, her laughter a drug I hadn’t realized I craved.

Eventually, the game came to an end, with Cora emerging as the undisputed champion. She accepted her prize—a large, plush unicorn—with a triumphant grin, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Guess you’re just the better player,” I conceded, though the words tasted like ash in my mouth.

She looped her arm through mine, her smile softening. “Or maybe you just let me win.”

I rolled my eyes, though the corners of my mouth twitched upward. “I would never.”

Cora laughed, the sound a reminder of the light that had somehow found its way into my shadowed existence. “Sure, Haides. Keep telling yourself that.”