𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞 | ✔

sɪxᴛʏ ᴛᴡᴏ

He inhales deeply. "V chem delo?" he breathes against my hair. (what's wrong?)

"Slishkom," I whisper. (too much)

He stiffens. This is the first time I've replied like this honestly. It feels like a sinful confession. The silence brews around us uncomfortably. Goosebumps begin to surface over my arms.

"Rasskazhi mne bol'she," he says, voice rugged. (tell me more)

"Ty mozhesh' sdelat' koye-chto dlya menya?" I ask. (Can you do something for me?)

"Chto-libo," he breathes. (anything)

"Leave."

"Nyet."(No)

"Get out of my bed."

His fingers brush my nape, moving my hair out of the crook of my neck. "Nyet."(No)

"Damn you," I whisper, rolling onto my stomach to bury my face into my pillow. "Doesn't it bother you...what I have?"

The doctor said I should be clear around next week. That's in four days.

"You mean what that disgusting bastard gave you?" he rephrases, "the only thing that bothers me right now is that he isn't suffering."

"He will though, won't he?" I ask, suddenly feeling conscious of how much I'm asking him for.

"You don't even need to ask," he answers, and my heart sighs wistfully. "Can you do something for me now?"

I frown. "But you didn't eve–"

"Tell me what she said to you. Amelie."

My mouth snaps shut.

His thumb skims my elbow. "Don't go quiet on me now."

"It shouldn't have mattered," I tell him. Or am I telling that to myself?

He grows silent behind me for a moment. "Do you know how badly I wanted to go after you?" he asks pained, "it took every fucking thing inside of me not to go after you because something told me you couldn't take anyone being near you. She said something, and I know that it hurt you, so tell me."

"It shouldn't have mattered."

"But it did," he says, "you aren't an emotionless superhuman, Devi.."

"I don't want to say it."

"You promised to tell me."

"I shouldn't have done that clearly," I say frustrated before quickly telling him it. "Your sister said that I deserved it. That me bouncing around had consequences. That I get what I want by o-opening my legs for you. There you go."

He stiffens. Freezes.

"Don't refer to her as my sister," he says first, shocking me. Because after all, she's family. "I hope you didn't listen to a word she said. Don't let her clip your wings," he murmurs, pressing his face into my hair. "We're going to burn them all to ash."

I nod stiffly, leaning back until his chest brushes my back. The warmth of his skin seeps into mine. I inhale, and exhale.

"And if it makes you feel better I also opened my legs for you," he says, yawning mid-sentence.

A frazzled expression takes over my facial features.

A hand scoops under my stomach, pulling me out to lie on my side, facing him. His grey eyes glimmer in the dark. Dark hair strands flop forward over his forehead.

"Hey," he whispers, smiling in the dark. There's a dimple in his left cheek I want to skim my fingers over.

My heart squeezes. It hurts so much to push him away. I miss him, I realise. I miss him. How could he be right here, next to me, yet miss him like he's on the other end of the planet? Shit.