Together in Paris

12.

"Just stay still!"

Sitting on the bed in his hotel room, Gleb couldn't stop fidgeting. He did nothing but move the yellow sheet from a hand to the other, bending, crumpling and reading it hundreds of times. He wanted to throw it away, to pretend he never received it, but would have been self-condemnation. When the cotton dampened with disinfectant touched the cut on his cheek, he winced and held back a little grimace of pain.

Vassilisa, still dressed in her evening gown, sat beside him and carefully cleaned up the wounds he had obtained during the fight with Dmitry. Superficial ones, mostly cuts and -- to his own surprise -- bites. He saw her withdraw her hand, as if surprised by his sudden movement.

"If you could just stop moving, it would hurt less!" the woman nervously scolded him. He pouted.

"But it burns!"

"It's disinfectant, it's normal!" she exclaimed "Gosh, you're being such a child!"

"I am not!" he snorted as he ran a hand through his dark hair, tensed. She noticed his tension, and raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Are you thinking of her?" Vassilisa asked. The Deputy Commissioner rolled his eyes.

"Oh, there we go again."
The woman giggled.

"Come on, you can tell old Lisa!" she exclaimed, punching softly his shoulder "Are you thinking of her?"
He bit his lip.

"... no."
Vassilisa laughed.

"You hesitated."

"No, I didn't!" Gleb rose his voice "And now let's stop talking about this!"
Vassilisa giggled at this.

"Oh, sure, you're the boss." she said. The Deputy Commissioner threw her a glare that could have killed, but she continued smiling.

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me. I won't betray you."
Gleb stretched his lips in a smile as fake as a wolf acting like as a lamb.

"Too bad you already did." he snapped, waving the yellow envelope in the air. She raised an eyebrow, again.

"It was my duty." she coldly spoke, with a bit of attitude in her tone.

"Yeah, right." he murmured sarcastically.

"I'm not kidding." Vassilisa replied "As absurd as it may seem, my husband has immediately noticed your absence."

Oh.

In spite of his spending time with Vera, he still hadn't gone idiot.

Dang.

"He sent me to Constantinople to find out what your intentions were." she continued. He watched her look down as she took more cotton and again moistened it with disinfectant, only to wait for the material to completely soak in the liquid. He couldn't get her point. It just didn't make sense.
She was sent there by her husband to spy on him and to control him.
Why not just report him and leave?
No.
Vassilisa had stayed, had warned him and had been kind enough to bring him back there, to his hotel room. And also had saved Dmitry's life: furious as Gleb had been the night before, he would have been able to wait for the dandy at the exit and to kill him with his own hands. That whole thing didn't make the slightest sense.

"Why are you doing this?"
Vassilisa raised her greenish eyes, confused.

"What?"

Gleb addressed the bottle of disinfectant that the woman had placed on the ground, then the cotton, and then his face and arms.

"This." he said "Why are you helping me?"
The answer that came out was not quite what he expected.

"I'm sorry for you."