White Russian (Whip 2) ✔️ SAMPLE

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Master Stefan ^^

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MISHA

Dec. 2013, New York

"Freckles!" Master Michael announces and I walk toward him, taking the red, shiny box Michael holds out for me, before skipping back to my seat next to Stefan, feeling incredibly excited as I start to open it. I love Christmas, and my favorite part of it is always the presents, whether I'm the one giving them or receiving them.

But then the smile slips from my face as I finally manage to tear it open and my eyes fall on the contents inside.

I bring a shaking hand up to my mouth as I take the book out gently with the other, afraid that I will somehow rip it if I'm not careful.

I close my eyes, hugging the book to my chest, as I desperately try not to cry. I feel completely overwhelmed, as my brain starts spinning, trying to figure out who could be the giver.

I know that it's impossible that it is just a coincidence since this book is incredibly rare and is now considered a collectible piece.

I only ever told Dean about it but I know that it can't be him, even if he somehow had the money to buy it, since the guy hadn't even participated in the game, and I'm sure that Dean hadn't told anyone else about it as the boy won't even talk to me, let alone someone else.

And then I remember that day and the person who had been standing at the bar, waiting for his drink while I was telling the story, in an attempt to coerce Dean into finally speaking with me.

I open my eyes and look across the room where I know that Jack will be because even if I've given up on him, I still always know where the man is; my heart still hung up on him even if my brain urges me to move on.

And there Jack is, staring at me intently and it's then that I knew for sure that I'm right.

We look at each other for who knows how long, my heart beating so fast that I think everyone in the room can hear it. But then I feel Stefan's hand on my arm driving my attention to him, and by the time I turn back around, Jack is already up and moving away, his back to the crowd gathered around the tree.

He soon disappears down the hallway where the private shows are usually held, and on an impulse, I quickly excuse myself and follow him slowly, trying not to attract attention to the two of us.

I step into the darkly lit room and find the man sitting on the couch, his back to the door and his head in his hands.

"Why did you buy me this?" I say, barely above a whisper, but it sounds entirely too loud in the quiet of the room and at the sound of my voice Jack jumps to his feet and turns around looking startled to see me there.

"Don't you like it?" he asks after calming down, and I just stare incredulously at him for a few moments, trying to figure out if the man is joking.

"I do. But that's not the point. Why would you buy me something like this? Me?" I ask again, feeling more confused than ever before. The man has spent the last year ignoring and all but shunning me, and now he goes and buys me the most perfect present that I've ever received.

It just makes no sense.

"I wanted to give you something meaningful." Jack says, answering my question and creating a thousand more in the process.

"But why? I mean, correct me if I am wrong, but I never got the impression that you cared about me much, so you can understand why this sudden gesture would confuse me."