just minishorts.

I'm offended. Thoroughly. You think that minishorts made this up. She didn't, honestly. There's just no point me going on about Mark, if you keep insisting that I'm all but a fictitious character.

What is fiction? That which you believe to be untrue.

But the fact is, everything is true. Everything. Especially how I feel about Mark. I'm not fiction. He's not fiction. Our love, it's not fiction.

Mark. Mark. Mark.

But if you won't believe that I'm a real life character, if you won't believe that. There's just no point me in telling you. Everything. As much as I want to.

Day Three. The definitive one.

I don't just give my body up to a person easily.

Day Three, Mark was punctual, as usual. He came up, and we had a short conversation about the progress of my rope-weaving. I told him the rope was only about one quarter done. There wasn't enough silk.

'You've to bring more.'
'I've brought a bag full of it. How many knots?'
'Triple braids, and braided again. Three times over.'

I led him to the bed, we sat down. His hands were holding mine and I felt as if the stars in the sky were bursting in fireworks all around me. Just the touch of his skin made me feel like that.

'How have you been?' he asked. Did he have to?

'Missing you,' I gasped.

He kissed me. On the lips, of course. His lips felt like a caress of soft velvet as they brushed over mine. I shivered in delight. My fingers went from his hands, to the buttons down his shirt. I tried to pry a button out of its slot, but Mark's hands came up to stop me.

'No. Not yet,' he said firmly.

Damn.

The day before was so intense, the memories we made still lingered in whispering wisps around the curtains of my chambers. But the day before, we didn't do anything except… because the time was not right. My Mother would be coming soon and Mark needed to leave before then.

And the corset of course. The stupid corset.

Mark said it was not right to deprive me of a truly memorable première fois. I was imprisoned by man-made satin-wrapped ribs and he said making love should be an experience free from inhibitations. Corset-less.

And I listened.

Day Three, I was without a corset. I was my most comfortable satin nightie, the most exquisite piece of thing you could ever see a beautiful princess with long long hair wearing, and underneath I wore the laciest panties I could find in my drawers when Mark came.

I expected him to climb the tower, see the new me, in my barest minimals, the corset-less Rapunzel, there, ready, for him, only him…

I expected him, the moment he saw me, to throw me onto the bed and ravish me like a hungry rapist. 'RAPE RAPUNZEL, RAPE RAPUNZEL!' I felt like screaming. I summoned all the love and desires that I could feel for him, and looked into his eyes with my (hopefully) bedroom eyes.

I was all ready for him to devour me. Why else, why else, why else would I be dressed in that 'come-fuck-me' piece of cloth?

But he just sat there like a freaking, unfeeling piece of wood, saying 'No, not yet.'

'FUCK. WHAT THE HECK IS WRONG WITH YOU!' I screamed. 'Are you a man or what?'

He wasn't angry at all. Oh. 'Rappy, dear. We have all day. Till 4.30 p.m. I want to talk to you first. I want to see you first. We must talk of more important things. I want to talk about our live together, when you get out of here, when I can finally make you my queen,' was all he said, in response to my rudeness.

And then, I knew it. It wasn't just lust. He didn't just want my body. He loved me.

A warm glow overcame my entire being.

Wow. He loved me. Loves me.

Wow.

Previously on Rapunzel Speaks:
RS 1: My name and how I came to be
RS 2: That famous long hair of mine
RS 3: About the silk rope
RS 4: Why Mark
RS 5: Mark and what happened on Day Two
RS 6: At first sight

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