I closed the door and leaned against it, breathing deep, grounding breaths. My sister, Carol, had just picked up Derek. He would stay with her family today and for a sleepover, as was our tradition for Easter.
Carol always said I didn’t need presents and family holidays. Instead, I needed a few days a year when I could be alone and just breathe. She was right.
Usually, I spent the free day and night gorging on nice food, watching romantic comedies, doing my nails, and taking baths.
This year, though…
I pushed away from the door and went to the living room, where Bunny sat on the couch. I did a double take when I saw him. He was back to his model persona, his tanned abs flexing at my approach.
“You changed again,” I said, not as freaked out now. “Why?”
He blushed, the perfect sun-kissed skin of his cheeks coloring, and shifted in his seat. I watched as his muscles played under his skin, my mouth growing dry at the sight.
We had spent a lot of time hiding and running from Super-Derek, and thanks to having a partner in crime, I wasn’t as exhausted as usually. Surprisingly, Bunny didn’t mind at all. Once he got the hang of the game, he enjoyed it immensely.
And all that time, he had been in his Bunny persona, with fur, long floppy ears, and all. But now that we were alone again… Model boy with cute bunny ears was back, his six-pack tempting me across the room.
“Because you like this better,” he said at once, his blush growing deeper. He didn’t look at me. “And… I didn’t want Derek to think I’d stay. After all, you can’t expect the Easter bunny to stick around after Easter. He’ll accept this.”
A painful pang cut through my chest. I did my best to ignore it.
“So… You’re leaving, then?”
Funny, I thought to myself. Hours ago I wanted nothing more than for him to leave. And now… Better not think about it.
He shook his head, the cute bunny ears gently flopping. His eyes were still turned away, but now, even his neck was red.
“Hey, what’s going on?” I asked, coming closer. “Is something wrong?”
I sat down by his side on the couch, maybe a bit too close, but then, who was judging? I wasn’t. That gravitational pull he had on me had only grown stronger over the day, making it difficult to stay away.
I wondered what it was, and then I didn’t.
Don’t think about it!
“Will-you-have-sex-with-me?” he blurted out so fast, the words almost bled together into gibberish.
Almost.
“What?” I asked, completely thrown by his statement. “You… what? How?!”
Bunny gave me a panicked look, his gorgeous face now so red, he looked entirely too young for me. Like a cute twenty-year-old who had somehow never learned how to talk to girls.
“Well… How… I mean, I thought you knew how s-sex worked… But, well, if I have to… Ahem. Sex. With a penis. In your vagina,” he mumbled, casting his eyes down.
I burst into laughter at his helpful explanation, but when he shot me a horrified look, I choked on my giggles and started coughing instead. When I finally calmed down, I took a few long breaths and looked at him steadily.
Bunny’s fists were clenched in his lap, and he didn’t look at me, his blush still deep.
“I’m sorry I laughed,” I said, instinctively putting my hands on his to loosen them. “I was surprised. Because you… Hm. You behave as if you don’t have much experience talking to women, and yet you were so direct. That threw me. I’m sorry. So… It’s not a joke?”
Bunny released a long breath and looked at me, his glittering eyes capturing me at once.
Oh dear God. So beautiful.
“I don’t have experience talking to women,” he said. “Alice, I told you already. I am the Easter bunny. I don’t live on Earth. I don’t speak with humans, unless they are five year old and catch me hiding presents under bushes.”
I watched him, understanding slowly dawning.
“Oh. So that’s why you… Why you seem so…”
“So what?” he asked, bristling a little.
“Young.”
We watched each other. Bunny’s fists loosened under my touch, and he turned his palms, capturing mine in his warm hold.
“Alice, I’m over a thousand years old.”
“Oh.”
I looked into his uncanny eyes and contemplated that statement. If he was, indeed, the Easter bunny, and he was magical, and didn’t live on Earth, then it was entirely plausible he could be this old.
But he still looked like a young athlete who was completely out of my league. Not like a decrepit, ancient being for sure.
“I am way older than you think,” he said again. “Way past the age of consent, if that troubles you. I read about consent. Know all about it.”
I nodded, pressing my lips together to keep myself from laughing again. This conversation went from outrageous to bizarre, and I was reeling.
“So you read? In that place where you live?” I asked.
Bunny nodded, turning my palms the inner side up. He started massaging them with his thumbs, and I released a long, shaky breath. My palms were often tense from working at the computer too long, and he found exactly the right spots to knead.
“I live in a pocket reality. It’s a space side by side with Earth, but separate. There are many of those, most inhabited by supernatural being. Some gifted humans can see into our realms, and we can see into yours and cross over. Well, not always. I can only come here on Easter Sunday.”
“Oh,” I said, because that painful pang in my chest was back, stabbing like crazy and making it impossible to say anything sensible.
He’ll leave. Of course he’ll leave! Don’t be a moron. Why would he stay?
“And yes, I read there. I’ve been reading for a few years. Etiquette manuals, conversation guides, sex-education pamphlets, some other books… Novels. You have a lot of books here on Earth, did you know that? I don’t think I can go through them all in the next thousand years, which is a bit frustrating. After all, new ones appear every day.”
I nodded, trying not to point out how weird he sounded. No one lived for a thousand years!
Except, he did.
“I’m sorry, I still don’t get it,” I said, pulling my hands out of his, even though the way he was stroking my skin with his thumbs felt so good.
“What? Sex?” Bunny asked, his tone gravely serious.
I giggled despite myself and quickly covered my mouth with my hand.
“Sorry. Not that. I mean, I was married and gave birth to a child, so I must know a thing or two about sex,” I said. “No, what I mean is… why me?”
Bunny cocked his head to the side, reached for my right hand, and put it back on his thigh, returning to the massage. The full force of his amber gaze was on me when he asked, completely serious:
“Why not?”
I stared at him, because it was so obvious. Really, it was right there, perfectly on display, and why on earth couldn’t he see?
He could, I realized. Of course, he must see, because it was impossible not to.
To make me spell it out seemed just cruel. That he would put me in such a situation was not only an unpleasant surprise, it actually hurt. I knew I should save my dignity and tell him to go fuck himself.
And yet, I snatched my hand back, tightened it into a fist to brace myself, and answered his question.
“Because,” I said, putting immense effort into keeping my voice perfectly level, “I am average. A single mom in her thirties, who is neither beautiful nor successful. There are thousands of women like me. Desperately trying to make ends meet, giving everything up for their children, and dreaming. Always dreaming, but never achieving.”
I took a forceful breath and released it slowly. It still sounded pissed off. I vibrated with anger at that awful, cutting question that reminded me of all the things I didn’t like about myself.
Bunny looked at me with those glimmering, thousand-year-old eyes, and I continued, deciding to lay the whole truth between us in one clean cut.
It would hurt less if I did it fast.
“If you want to have sex with a human woman, literally anyone would be better than me. Why don’t you get someone experienced? A high-end escort would make your every fantasy come true. You’re the Easter bunny, as you say. You look like a young god. You can have anyone.”
Anyone, I added in the privacy of my mind, who’s worth you. So not me. I’m way below your level.
“Escorts are smart, sophisticated, very good in bed,” I continued with a forced calm. “So that would be my first recommendation.”
My voice shook only slightly, but my eyes, I knew, were full of hurt anger. Still, I said more.
“Or you could go for one of the famous porn stars. They are perfect with their beautifully symmetrical, shaved pussies and bleached anuses. My pussy is not pretty. Neither is my butthole. I am unwaxed, unkempt, and generally unsexy.”
I gulped a long breath, closed my eyes for a moment, and came back to deliver my last line, now feeling weary and defeated rather than angry.
“So no, I do not understand why you would choose me.”
