Eventually

Chapter Two

Cora’s POV

I grab another handful of chips and toss one at Lucas. “Dude, I’m stressed, okay? This is therapeutic. You wouldn’t get it.”

He catches it mid-air like some kind of snack ninja. “You’re literally impossible.”

“Thank you,” I say, grinning like it’s a compliment. “Finally, someone understands my genius.”

Lucas groans but doesn’t argue—typical. He knows it’s useless. That’s my superpower: being unreasonably chaotic and still getting away with it.

I flop back, chocolate bar in hand, and glance at the TV. Of course, the drama hits that special spot. The love triangle, the betrayal, the ridiculous over-the-top screaming—I’m living for it. I groan, dramatically, throwing my legs over the armrest.

And then—oh god, don’t do this to me—my brain wanders. Adrian. Why now?

I kick my leg lightly against thin air—well, mostly at Lucas, who yelps. “Hey! Stop! I wasn’t ready!”

“Too late,” I giggle, swatting him again. “I’m stressed! It’s medicinal chaos therapy! Don’t question it!”

He rolls his eyes but secretly knows better than to mess with me. Last-born privilege, baby. Mom and Dad totally spoil me; Lucas is just here to witness the chaos.

I curl up, snack in one hand, blanket tangled around me, and mutter under my breath, “Stupid universe. Why did Adrian have to exist?”

Lucas sighs, clearly done judging, and I take full advantage: more chocolate, more chips, more dramatics. Life is simple. Life is messy. Life is me, and I am entirely unstoppable today.

And yes, maybe I daydream about Adrian a little—maybe I imagine him walking back in just to see me like this, messy and chaotic, and totally unbothered. But it’s fine. Totally fine. I am fine.

I throw a popcorn kernel at the wall for dramatic effect. Lucas groans. I laugh. Blanket tight around my shoulders. Snacks everywhere. Drama blasting. Heart racing a little, brain spinning a lot.

This is life. Perfect, chaotic, slightly cursed, and utterly mine.

I hear the front door click open, and my ears practically pop out of my head. “Mom! Dad!” I yell, launching myself off the couch like a human cannonball.

They’re home. My actual humans. My chaos controllers. The ones who still pretend I’m perfect even when I’m… not.

I barreled into them in the hallway, hugging them so tight I almost knock Dad over. “I missed you guys so much!” I squeal, squishing them both mercilessly.

Mom laughs, planting a quick kiss on my forehead. “Elena, my little tornado. How’s my disaster today?”

“Emotional. Dramatic. Snack-deprived,” I reply, flinging my arms wide for emphasis. “Basically catastrophic, but survivable.”

Dad chuckles, lifting me slightly like I weigh nothing (don’t remind him about the chips in my bag). “And yet you still find time to eat half the kitchen, right?”

“Shut up, it’s therapeutic. Science stuff,” I mumble, burying my face in their jackets.

Mom presses a kiss to my temple. “Impossible. But we adore it—and you.”

“Finally, validation!” I whisper to no one in particular, grinning like a little maniac.

Lucas is on the couch, half-watching, half-rolling his eyes. “Really? You do this every single time.”

I grin at him, shrugging. “Yep. Your life, your problem. I’m loved. Deal with it.”

After a little more chaos, laughter, and parental fussing, I drag myself upstairs with my blanket and snack arsenal—chips, chocolate, maybe even that sad leftover pizza that survived lunch. My room is my little fortress of self-indulgence.

I flop onto the bed, blanket tucked around me like a burrito of pure chaos. I shove a handful of chips into my mouth and sigh dramatically. TV muted, world paused. Life is comfy, messy, and entirely mine.

I curl up, munching away, tossing wrappers haphazardly around me, and think—just a little—about Adrian. Not letters, not full-blown fantasies, just… sparks. Small, stupid, annoying sparks that make my chest feel weird.

I stuff another chip in my mouth, sighing contentedly. “Snacks. Blanket. Chaos. Perfect.”

And tonight, that’s enough.