Our hidden wounds (#1)

Twenty one

Twenty one | Alexander
It's been a month since we finally came back to our 'home' which clearly wasn't one since things were becoming more awkward between Ekaterina and I.

And none of us had been putting any effort to talk about what the fuck is wrong, but I was completely over it as I stepped into Ekaterina's room.

Her back was to me, She had her headphones on, singing along to the music as she picked up her painting brush, looking extremely fucking breathtaking as a small smile tugged at her lips.

A weird tightness sparked through my chest and I ignored it, striding towards her and slowly studying her movements, I looked like a creep right now but I couldn't care less about that.

When my footsteps became near enough she startled, her attention snapping up to me as the brush faltered from her hand, I stayed in my place, arms crossed as I leaned across the near wall.

Her hands came up, dramatically clutching her chest as she took off her headphones, raising her brows at me, it took her a moment to realize how long I'd been here as her cheeks turned crimson, satisfied by myself I motioned at the painting.

"There's a near event in an art museum, about two days from now." The moment those words left my lips, she choked on her next breath as her horrified gaze turned to mine, "that quick?" She can't hide the fear that's clear in her voice.

If Ekaterina let herself overthink this decision as she always does, it might as well be her downfall.

I nod and shrug "It's been a month since we agreed, remember?" I reply in the most nonchalant tone I can manage even when a part of me desperately wants to praise her for all that fucking work, I know the answer to it, my words won't get her anywhere unless she wants to.

And that's not something I'm in control of, her expression falters quickly and a shudder rolls through her body as she nods, her throat bobbing as she looks around her,

I sigh and then my brows furrow as something catches the corners of my eyes, I almost laugh as I arch a brow in her direction, "Is that a brush in your hair?" I ask I inspect the painting brush resting on top of her loose bun.

Embarrassment slightly flashes over her face before she masks it away, tilting her chin upwards causing a smile to tug at the corner of my lips, my wife is changing.

But she's oblivious to it, sooner or later she'll realize it, my gaze meets hers again and my cock twitches remembering the last time we were this close.

Wrong time, wrong place, wrong every thing.

She's fucking glowing under the sunlight, smooth pale skin, a couple of freckles over her nose, eight to be exact, exquisite eyes staring back at me, they are the most mesmerizing thing ever, a mix of light blue and brown, when she notices how intimate this is getting, her breath hitches and she takes a wobbly step back.

Like she always fucking does,

Turning her attention back on her panting, I poke the inside of my cheek with my tongue, irritation spreading through my body at the way she's reacting to me, she's clearly ignoring me which I tried to push away but it's getting out of hand.

"It's pathetic." The only way to get her attention is by provoking her, which won't be so hard in this situation, her eyes snap to mine, both of them looking a bit darker with anger.

Great, it's working then, she slightly narrows them and I arch a brow "What is?" Her reply comes a bit later as I unflinchingly answer her "Running away." I reply as I start walking out of her room, heading for the door as her attention stays on me.