Page 46 of Voracious

But it’s not and the tape in my fingers isn’t the smiley face, the eye is stuck to it while the circular sticker is in Dima’s fingers.

I don’t have my smiley face anymore.

He ruined it.

My vision blurs as I keep moving in a line, following the hand to the arm to the man that just killed it. It’s gone, and I move back down seeing that it’s dead. I just blink, waiting for it to be fixed. My sticker, it was the only thing I had. Somethingwet slides down my cheeks, dripping on to my thighs, but I can’t move because it’s dead now.

NINETEEN

Dima

Trying to be helpful has fucking failed when Ana’s body loses all energy and she stares in horror at the random piece of paper in my hand. The tape has peeled away a layer and her face falls before her tears do. Fuck. She shouldn’t cry, she’s a hellion. A mournful sob crumples her entire body and I move forward, catching her before her head hits the floor.She’s folded in half with sob after sob wracking through her body, shaking her and me as her lungs rattle from the force of her heartbreak.

It was a blank piece of paper, barely big enough to be a scrap. That doesn’t alter her grief and she clings to me as more hot tears burn a path down her cheeks. Her fingers claw against my shoulders, and she can’t even get a word out as she struggles to breathe. The sob leaving her rips through me, etching pain into my bones from the deep anguish she lets out.

Everything she’s fucking been through and I’m the cunt who made her fucking cry.

I pick her up and keep her cradled in my arms as I slowly sit back, waiting for it to stop. There’s no anger in her body as she continues to claw at my t-shirt until her arms are wrappedaround my neck. I don’t move, content in allowing her to choke me, but she doesn’t, she’shuggingme. My hellion who reacts to everything with violence is hugging me as she cries.

I don’t know how long I sit there for, but the tears don’t stop, and my ass is numb from the hard floor. The wet patch on my t-shirt grows, seeping down to my chest exactly like it is inside and I band my arms tighter around her as I force myself up and sit on the edge of the bed.

There’s no reaction but she’s stopped shaking and I cup the back of her head to give her my apology.

“I’m sorry, lisichka.” She can’t even hear me.I’ll do anything so Ana is the hellion again and easily offer, “Do you want to stab me?”

There’s no anger or response. Violence is her preferred method of communication, not fucking tears. Never tears. I’ve witnessed people bury their loved ones with less grief than what’s currently working through her entire body. Whatever was on that tape kept her together.

She draws in a shaky breath and whispers more to herself than me. “It’s ruined, I lost everything.”

The tears come faster than my shoulder can soak them up as she deflates against me, her arms loosening around my neck, and she rests her cheek on my shoulder. Her chest stutters as she tries to breathe. I’ve wished to see her real eyes ever since I knew they existed, the moments the thin blue crescent would show became some the best parts of my day when she was working, but now I hate it. Her contacts have slipped out of alignment and she’s too distraught to blink.

Using the side of my finger, I try to wipe her tears away. They’re hot and burn, leaving red splotches on her cheeks. My hellion is still unblinking as her face shatters around another sob, and she chokes, “No one will smile at me anymore.”

The sobs turn more violent, and her tears run into her mouth as she shudders.

“I’ll smile at you, lisichka.”

She doesn’t hear my promise. I’ve been forcing my lips to move whenever she’s in front of me. The majority of the time there’s no force required but I do it now and try to pull her away from my shoulder so she can see me make good on the words. It doesn’t help and I’m fucking useless, rubbing her back as though that will be any comfort for the desolation.

I don’t know how long she cries for. Each time it peters out it, they start again with a new thought. The sun has already come up but it’s not a new day with her grief. Ana rolls her neck on my shoulder to look up at me. Fuck, her eyes are red, matching the tops of her cheeks and the tip of her nose. Her arms slowly slip from my neck and limply fall to her sides while she just stares through me.

I press my lips to her forehead, the only part of her face that isn’t soaked into salty tears and beg, “Come back to me, lisichka, I’ll get you whatever you want.”

Her face is hot against my palm as I cup her cheek, refusing to let go of her, and clear the tears that are slowly slipping over her skin.

“We’ll go kill someone, you can make heartbeat noises, okay?”

The haunting voice that leaves her pauses time.

“I only ever had my sticker, but you ripped it.”

My eyes close with the weight of the guilt bearing down on me and I rest my cheek on her temple.

“I’m sorry, lisichka. I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

My voice is weak and small, unfamiliar to my own ears.

“It was mine and you killed it,” she says. Her lips wobbles around the accusation and brush my jaw, making my chest crack.

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