SEVEN'S POV
"Surprised you're alone." Curby says as he jumps into the passenger side of my SUV.
"What do you mean by that?" I question him, pulling off the curb as soon as his door closes.
"Would've thought Lily would be strapped to your dick now that you's are fucking again." He jokes in the least comedic way.
"Fuck off." I scoff at his ridiculous attempt at humour.
"So you are fucking her again?" I can see his shit eating grin in my peripheral without needing to glance his way. When I don't answer his intrusive questioning, a hand pats down heavily on my shoulder.
"Why do you need to know so bad?" I frown out at the road, my nerves already worn and yet Curby has only been in the car mere seconds.
"It's best if I know what Seven I'm having to deal with." He answers.
"What?"
"Y'know, whether you're mopey love-sick Seven." He begins counting on his fingers.
"Or up tight stressed Seven, or cranky off the charts horny Seven. Or—"
"Alright, fucking hell. Give it a rest would you?" I interrupt him, unimpressed by the accuracy in which he describes. Lilianna holds a great deal of control over my moods, in fact she holds a great deal of control over me as a whole. That use to terrify me, now I'm not as bothered by it. She's good for me, the fact that I haven't ripped Curby's annoying head off proves that.
"Well I take it you had a good time after she left the warehouse with you." Curby continues. I'm sick of the conversation already and steer the topic away from Lily and myself.
"What did you and Mesha get up to when we left?" I really don't give a fuck to know.
"Just the usual. Went back to her place and fucked most of the night. Mesha gets crazy horny after shooting guns, I kinda like it though." He smiles to himself and I try not to let the thought of my friend and Mesha having sex become a visual in my mind. I'd rather stick pins in my eyes than see that shit.
Curby drains on about the dumbest shit. Mostly it's about Mesha; her favourite television show, something about a stain she got in her favourite dress so Curby brought her the same one. By the time he swings the conversation into a story about how he and Mesha have been considering buying a fucking pet snake together I tune out.
My mind goes to the only place it does these days when I ignore the world around me - to her. Something was up with her this morning but I couldn't get it out of her no matter how hard I tried. I have a feeling it was about the sex, about me not using a condom. She seemed into it at the time but maybe I got that wrong? In the past she had suggested it so I assumed it would be okay with her. It was fucking reckless, and went against every rule I had set up for myself but fuck did it feel good. Fuck did she feel good. I felt closer and more connected to her then I've ever felt in my entire life with anyone. Ever.
I trusted her, in that moment we expressed an act of trust on a level we hadn't reached before. And now that I've felt that with her I don't think I ever want to go back. Maybe it was my comment about finishing inside of her that threw her off this morning? I could understand why. It's not like I'm keen to have children, or that I'm purposely seeking that kind of thing out. I just... I don't know how to explain it. I feel like if that were to happen with Lilianna I wouldn't be as afraid as it use to make me. I know with her at least a kid would have some chance.
I've always wanted to be a dad. But in my life, growing up I had thought that producing an heir would mean the same lonely upbringing I had. I had it all wrong, I didn't realise I could meet someone, I didn't realise I could fall in love with them. I didn't realise my kid could have a mother raising them, teaching them in that kind and gentle way only a mother can. And I didn't realise I would be considering the option of having a child with them as a positive.
Though I am getting far too ahead of myself. Perhaps that was what caught at Lilianna this morning. She sensed my eagerness and it may have taken her back. We have only just reconnected, I need to tell her I love her before I start properly thinking about things like marriage and kids. Those are for the future, but for me anyway they're definitely the objectives I've recently realised are possible for me. Not only possible but that I actually want these things with her.
"Where the fuck are you taking us?" Curby looks out his passenger window and I know he's clicked on to the area I've driven us to.
"Seven, this is Sergey's territory." Curby warns as if I don't know these are the streets the Russian's patrol.
"If we're going to overrule Victor, we're going to need some help." I conclude.
"Are you fucking crazy? What makes you think Sergey will even let you speak before putting a bullet in your head! We killed his son!" Curby panics.
"No, technically you killed his son." I correct him as Curby fidgets in his seat, taking his gun out from his suit and checking the magazine is full.
"Besides, Sergey doesn't know who personally killed his son. Only that it was an order directly from Victor." I point out, driving deeper into enemy lines.
"You're fucking crazy, you know that right?" Curby asks and I shrug.
"If we get killed because of this I'm gonna be fucking pissed." He warns and I smirk.
He's right though. This is a fucking crazy idea but I have no other way to contact Sergey without Victor's help. I reach down and grab my own gun from under the seat. Fingers finding the cool steel of my Beretta 92 and bring it to my lap, praying I won't have to use it. The nervous adrenaline is erratically clawing it's way through my bloodstream and it's a moment like this that has me itching for a hit of cocaine. The coke would work wonders in shutting my cognitive thoughts off and could have me marching into a lions den with nothing but a twig and I'd feel powerful and unstoppable. But right now, right now I have nothing but my tenacious wits and a prayer to see this through.
LILIANNA'S POV
"What on earth are you wearing?" I hear Tiffany before I notice her approach. I stand from the seat and small table outside the cafe to greet her.
"Hey." She's dressed to impress, in classic Tiffany style. A burgundy pant suit, heels and Chanel pearl broach adorns her left lapel.
I look down at my borrowed black ensemble, curtesy of Seven. We couldn't be anymore different which makes me smile.
"Wait," Tiff pulls away from our hug to eye the black t-shirt.
"This smells of Tobacco Vanille. Is this a man's t-shirt? Though I am partial to a little Tom Ford scent myself." I'm not even surprised Tiffany is able to pick out Seven's exact cologne. I can't help the blush tinting my cheeks and she grins knowingly at me.
"Oh I think I'm starting to like this outfit a little more." She gestures up and down at me with her finger.
"So?" Tiffany asks as she takes her seat at the table.
"So what?" I know my cheeks are a brazen red which only encourages her.
"So are you going to tell me who the mystery man is that owns the clothes you are wearing?"
"Tiff." I sigh at her persistence and wave at one of the wait staff to gain their attention.
"Is it that guy who caused a ruckus at the uni pub the other night?" She questions and my head snaps to her attention so quickly I may gain whiplash.
"What? How do you know about that?" Tiffany wasn't even there, how could she possibly know about what happened.
"Everyone knows." She shrugs it off like it's common knowledge and not a big deal.
"Your boyfriends drunken rampage at the bar and then some first years setting a rubbish bin on fire outside one of the dorms was the talk of the town. Well for Friday night anyway." Tiffany reveals casually as she quickly browses over the menu.
"What can I get you?" The waitress asks with a perfect hostess smile. Which I would usually return, only Tiffany's revelation about the student gossip sector including Seven's outburst is a little preoccupying.
"Just a macchiato for me." I order quickly so that I can get back to this conversation with Tiffany.
"I'll take a mocha, and could you add marshmallows on the side. Not in the drink but to the side." Tiffany requests and the waitress notes down her specific instructions and promptly leaves us.
"He wasn't drunk." I correct Tiffany and she looks at me over the table confused.
"When he... Did what he did at the bar he wasn't drunk. Just... annoyed." I struggle to defend Seven's actions of attacking Tom and Alec but at the time he was trying to stick up for me. Well against Alec anyway.
"So he wasn't drunk, but he is your boyfriend." Tiffany smirks at her observation of me only correcting her on the drunk part, and not referring to Seven as my boyfriend.
Seven is my boyfriend. I suppose this morning we confirmed that.
"Yes. He's my boyfriend." I give her what she wants and am answered with a hushed excited scream and a clap of her hands.
"Oh my god I knew it!" She cheers.
"Tell me everything; what is his name? What does he study? What year is he? How old?" She rattles off a list of questions and I immediately regret opening the floodgates. I can't tell Tiffany much obviously but I can perhaps tell her some half truths.
"Um, his names S-" No she will find his nickname too odd and ask even more questions.
"Harry. His name is Harry. He doesn't go to university with us. He's twenty four." I keep it brief to be safe.
"Does he have a job? Is he nice to you?" She then asks.
"He's in business." I mean that's not a lie but it's not the whole truth.
"And yes, he's nice to me." I chuckle at her question but am glad of her asking.
"Aw I'm so happy for you babes. I'm glad you've found someone. Especially now that Tom is off the market." Tiffany says as our drinks are placed on the table in front of us. As requested, a small pile of mini marshmallows are put on a small saucer for Tiffany and she pops one into her mouth.
"Tom? What do you mean?" I ask and take a sip of my coffee.
"You didn't hear? He's seeing some girl. You'd know her, she was in your research group actually." Tiffany explains.
"Hannah? Oh I hardly think they're together together, I set them up only just on Friday night." I shake my head.
"Well they've been by each other's side since then." Tiffany shrugs and I wonder how she even knows about them given she wasn't with us on Friday. Maybe everyone caught up on Saturday?
"It's only a matter of time before they become an official couple. That's what Alec thinks anyway." Tiffany pops another marshmallow into her mouth.
"I see." I lean back into my chair and fold my arms. Seeming to have realised what she said Tiffany looks down at her coffee.
"Okay, now don't start." She warns me.
"Please tell me you're not seeing that dickhead again." I should have known.
"I'm not, not like that. We've just been hanging out this weekend that's all. And I'm not stupid enough to think it's anything serious other then a way to pass the time. Besides, I'm far too busy focusing on my end of year portfolio I don't have time for anything remotely serious." Tiffany defends herself but I just roll my eyes.
"He's a dick, Tiff. I thought you learnt that the first time round."
"I did. I know he is. But that's why it's kind of perfect for me. He's an arsehole so I won't get attached." She insists and I sigh, knowing there's no way I'm going to be able to change her mind.
"Well it's your life. If you want to waste time with an arse like Alec be my guest. Just don't give him the power to hurt your feelings again, he's not worth it."
"Oh for sure babes, he doesn't have any power over me. He rung me crying on Friday after your boyfriend belt him, I'm actually a little gutted I missed it but anyway he turned up with a gross nose and we ended up talking. He's a dick but he can also be pretty sweet." Tiffany avoids my eyes as she says it because she knows I completely disagree. As much as it annoys me I can't protect her from her own feelings. I know deep down she likes him still and if she needs to go through this with Alec then I have to let her do it. Even though the heartbreak coming seems like a flashing fucking warning sign to me, I have to let my friend make her own mistakes and find those flashing signs for herself - no matter how fucking blind she's acting at the moment.
The rest of our day is spent wondering around the east side street markets. I buy a bunch of organic fruit from a sweet older lady and Tiffany barters with one of the stall holders for about five minutes over a massive Moroccan rug as the most bizarre purchase I think I've ever witnessed in my life. She swears the thousand dollar rug is a bargain but I'm pretty sure I've seen free ones tossed out on the boardwalk.
When I get home, I'm left with my own thoughts once again. My brain digesting and decompartmentalising the last few days of my life. A lot has happened, and I feel like I haven't quite got a grip on everything yet; about my parents, about Victor, about Seven. And instead of sitting alone in my apartment overthinking about it all, I pull out a small, old exercise book I had used for lecture notes and begin to write down all the craziness inside of my head.
After the first page I feel a little better, then by the fifth I feel a lot lighter. It's not till my eyes catch the tattered diary sitting on my dining table that I realise what it is that I'm doing. I'm journaling, just like my father did. And perhaps that was his way of trying to decompress the situations that were happening in his life also.
I get lost in my own scribblings that I don't realise the time till a buzz echos through my apartment. It's half past six in the evening and I skip to the buzzer, knowing who will be waiting on the other end. I click the button just as Seven's voice comes through the intercom.
"It's just me." His voice alone sends butterflies hovering in my stomach and I buzz him through the front door so he can make his way up to my apartment. I wait excitedly at the door till a light rap of knuckles taps against it. With a quick hair fix, a small breath and a pretend march of footsteps to make it seem as though I hadn't been waiting right by the door for his entry I swing the door open to greet him with a smile.
That smile drops as soon as I take in the sight in front of me. The butterflies in my stomach freeze over and wilt inside of me as Seven stands slightly slumped with dried blood down his white shirt and a fresh bruise forming around his eye.
Shocked, surprised and upset form the only words I can manage at seeing his condition.
"What the fuck?!"
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