MIHAIL
Time stands still for a moment, as we lie there staring at each other.
I can barely move let alone do anything else under that dark gaze, my nose full of a wonderful scent, something dark and intoxicating much like the man himself is.
We are so close, so very close, David's warm breath hot on my lips, making goosebumps break out over my skin.
"Mihail, dad, are you guys alright?" Leo's voice breaks through the haze, and in the next second, David is gone, jumping quickly to his feet and cleaning the snow from his pants in a nonchalant way as if he hasn't been sprawled across the ground just a few seconds before.
"We are fine, just a little accident." David says as he looks at me again, one of his hands slowly rising in offer. I take it, letting the man pull me up, but as soon as he does that, a groan escapes my throat before I can stop it as a piercing pain slices through my side.
"Are you hurt?" David immediately asks, coming closer to me as I clutch my ribs with a painful grimace.
"It's nothing, just a bruise. I'm fine." I say although I'm not sure if that is true. The wound I earned barely two months before when those men have kidnapped me in order to find out where Misha was, is healed, but the flesh surrounding it is still tender and the scar pink and very noticeable, and at the moment it hurts like hell.
"Let's get you inside, and out of those wet clothes, you don't look so well, you're very pale." David says, as he takes my arm and starts to lead me, his stern glare stopping all of my protests before I even have the time to voice them.
It makes me shiver, the glare, a warm feeling pooling at the bottom of my stomach at the feel of it, though I don't know why.
We enter the house, Leo trailing behind us with a worried look on his face as he watches me, making something inside me warm at the gentle look. Someone is worried for me, for my wellbeing, a new concept, since no one besides Misha has ever done so.
Well, my sister had, once upon a time, but that was a long time ago, I've been just a child then, and I've almost forgotten how good it feels to feel cherished and cared for, as if you matter.
"Can you climb?" David asks once we are inside, looking up the stairways that lead to my bedroom. I nod and slowly make my way up, David walking close behind me, his arms slightly spread as if expecting me to tumble down any moment and ready to catch me.
I sigh in relief once I see the door of my room since my side is starting to hurt more despite me pulling a brave face. I really need to lie down.
"You should take your clothes off; we need to check if everything is okay." David says, making my stomach turn at the thought of this man seeing me without a shirt on.
I hate how I look, feeling ashamed of the numerous scars that mar my body, making me look disfigured. It's a remnant of my previous life, the one that these days seems like a bad dream, especially since I moved into the Cross household.
But it hasn't been a dream, no matter how much I wish that it was, and I just need to take off my clothes to be reminded of that little fact.
"That won't be necessary, I'm fine. It's just a bruise from the fall. Nothing some rest won't heal." I say, my eyes averted to the side, unable to look at the man as I talk. I pray that David won't force the issue, because I don't know what I would do if that were the case.
David watches me for a moment, a frown between his brows as he does so, making cold sweat break out at the back of my neck before the man nods reluctantly.
"Fine. But if the pain persists you need to inform me right away and I'll call one of my friends to come and check you over. He's a doctor." he says and I immediately nod, although I know I would never do such a thing, no matter the pain.
If it really gets so bad that I need a doctor, I'll just go to Misha's house and ask Jack to check me over. The man already knows my history and has seen me in all my glory so there is no point in being ashamed to strip in front of him.
"Thank you." I whisper and David nods before turning around and leaving the room though he doesn't look happy about it, the frown between his brows still present.
I sigh as soon as the doors close, a painful whimper escaping my throat as I slowly take off my jacket and the sweater that is beneath it, the only one I own.
I then limp over to the bathroom, frowning when I see my reflection. The skin around the wound is red, slowly turning blue and I know that a big bruise will form by the next day. It hurts to the touch; my newest scar, red and slightly swollen, making me grimace at the sight.
I shake my head, limping back to my room, and climb into bed, not even bothering to pull on a shirt since even the feeling of sheets against my skin hurts.
I close my eyes, sighing in relief as my muscles relax and soon enough, I'm asleep.
∞∞∞
Mihail entered the house, throwing his backpack to the floor as he took off the shoes that were too small for his feet but were the only ones he had..
He had asked his mother for a new pair a few times but eventually gave up since the woman just stared at him whenever he did so, her pupils blown wide from whatever drug she had taken, her mind quite obviously elsewhere.
He was feeling exhausted after spending the whole day at the market, trying to sell whatever he had managed to scour from the trash people had thrown away.
His hands were frozen despite the old woolen mittens he had on, the ones he had found during one of his scouring escapades, the skin red and broken. But he didn't care as he glanced at the small jewelry box in his hands. It had cost him more than he could afford but it was worth it, his sister deserved a nice present for her eighteenth birthday.
He quickly discarded his winter wear, rubbing his hands together and blowing into them to warm them up as he slowly walked through the house, his ears straining to hear any sound that would alert him to his parents' presence. If they were there, there was always a chance that their friends were too, and Mihail despised them.
They were a horrible bunch, every one of them a drug addict just like his parents, smelly and disgusting, and always looking for a way to get the next fix. He couldn't even remember how many times he had come home only to find out that his room has been searched over, his meager belongings thrown all over the ground and his money stash taken. It made him feel awful, despair climbing up his throat every time that happened since that meant his sister and he would go without food for a day or two.
He sighed in relief once he realized that no one was in the house, the silence a dead giveaway. If his parents and their friends were there, music would be blasting from the speakers and there would be yells and screaming as they partied.
He hated it; the noise prevented him from falling asleep, something he desperately needed since he always woke up early in order to get to the market on time.
"Zoya? Are you there?" he asked as he saw the door of his sister's room slightly ajar, which usually meant that she was home since she would never make the mistake of leaving her bedroom door unlocked when she was out.
When no answer came, Mihail frowned and stepped closer, gently pushing the door open, before all blood drained from his face at the sight that greeted him.
Zoya was there, lying face-first on the floor in the middle of her room, a pool of blood spreading around her in a kind of a horrific halo.
"Zoya!" Mihail exclaimed, running toward her and falling to his knees beside her, uncaring for the blood that immediately started soaking up his jeans.
"Say something! Please, Zoya, please!" he repeated over and over again, as he dragged her unresponsive form away from the floor and into his lap.
He whimpered once he had her head in his lap as he saw her wide-open eyes staring into nothing, her mouth slightly open. Her skin was cold, too cold, and very pale.
She was gone, he suddenly realized, the realization making his head spin, as his heart broke into a million pieces.
"No, no, no... Zoya... no..." he moaned in pain, tears streaming down his face as he clutched her close, her curly black hair tickling his nose.
"Please come back... please... I can't do this alone... please don't leave me..." he begged her, shaking her harshly, urging her to wake up, praying that this was all a horrible nightmare and that he would soon wake up.
"No..."
∞∞∞
DAVID
"Dinner is ready, dear. You should call Mihail, I'm sure something warm and tasty to eat would help. He had been sleeping for a long time now." Nancy says as she walks into my office.
I look up from my laptop, frowning at the words as I do so. I've been worried after the incident in the backyard, but when Mihail refused my help, I figured that it was nothing to worry about so I left him to get some rest. But that has been hours ago and it's now time for dinner, so hearing that the young man is still in his room, makes the previous worry come back.
I nod, pushing away from the desk and then making my way out of the office. I'm almost on the first floor when I hear a small whimper coming from Mihail's room making my stomach roll in dread.
The whimpers grow stronger as I approach the closed door and I debate for just a moment if I should just walk in when my knock goes unanswered, but as a louder whimper reaches my ears, I make my decision.
Once inside, I stop in my tracks, realizing that Mihail is asleep. The young man is trashing and turning in his bed, obviously in the midst of a nightmare.
"Hey. Mihail, it's alright. Wake up." I say as I quickly approach the bed, feeling sorry for the man.
When he just cries louder still lost in the clutches of Morpheus, I sit on the side of his bed and gently reach for his shoulder to shake it, but I don't have time to do so since as soon as my fingers come into contact with Mihail's skin, the man's eyes snap open and he jumps away as if burned by my touch.
His eyes are wide, his breathing erratic as he hugs his legs to his chest, staring unblinkingly at me.
"It's okay, Mihail. I came in to tell you that dinner is ready and I saw that you were having a nightmare. You're fine now." I shush him, my voice gentle and low, just like it's when I do the same every time Leo has a nightmare.
Mihail blinks, coming back to himself, and nods slowly, running one of his hands across his face as he sits up straight, his breathing returning to normal as the seconds pass.
But as he does so, my eyes fall on his naked chest, making me realize for the first time since I entered the room that the man isn't wearing a shirt and my eyes widen comically.
The fact that he's naked isn't anything unusual, and I wouldn't pay it a time off the day, except to maybe sneak a peek since my attraction to the man is still undoubtedly present despite my furious attempts to make it go away.
What does draw my attention isn't the state of his undress but the fact that the man's skin is covered in scars.
His chest and stomach are streaked with long lashes making me think of a whip, clusters of small burn scars litter his shoulders as if someone has used his skin as an ashtray, and at the side of his stomach is what appears to be a fresh scar, probably from a knife, the skin around it still pink and swollen.
I gasp, one of my hands flying to my mouth as I stare at the gruesome sight. I've never seen anything like it, and I can't imagine what could have happened to such a young person to have him looking like a torture survivor.
At the sound of my gasp, Mihail's eyes snap up and once he realizes what I'm staring at, his cheeks turn crimson red and he's immediately up on his feet, pulling a shirt on with his back turned to me.
My eyes widen yet again, but this time I manage not to make a sound as I get a glimpse of more scars before they are covered with a shirt.
Mihail's back is covered in them; small, slash marks littering the skin, like some sort of a sick jigsaw puzzle.
"Mihail... I..." I stammer, wanting to say something, anything to make this situation better but coming up short.
"Thank you for waking me up. I appreciate it. I'm not really hungry, so you should eat without me." Mihail interrupts, still turned away from me, his eyes glued to the window.
I frown, my mind still spinning with the memory of those horrible scars, my stomach turning at the thought of what Mihail had obviously been through.
I want to ask about them; a million questions on the tip of my tongue but I don't. I can see that Mihail doesn't want to talk about them, his whole stance screaming of just how uncomfortable he is with the fact that I've seen his scars, his arms wrapped around his middle as if he's trying to comfort himself.
"Okay. I... I'll see you tomorrow, then." I say quietly, and when the only answer I get is a small nod, I turn around and leave the room, glancing one last time at the lone figure standing in the middle of the room, before the door shuts.