Page 29 of Volatile

I don’t have any clothes I can walk out in, and I’d rather not be interrogated by his family, so I agree. Or that’s the excuse I’m going to use to rationalize it to myself. I’ve got a long list, starting with the fact his products are better than mine and my skin feels as soft as a baby, it ends with the look in his eyes and the smile on his face as he presses a chaste kiss to my lips.

He’s dangerous with his smiles and easy nature. I’m going to get lost in him and I’m already mourning the day he’ll no longer be there. A very stupid, hopeful part of me enjoys his company and begs to give into him, to plummet into the abyss of his happiness. But I kill it, just like he told me to, and remain still despite my hands going to his chest to check his temperature.

All night he was burning up like the sun, but now his body temperature is back to normal, and I can relax. I kept checking his airways and trying to cool him down, but the windows don’t open and I had to swap out the damp towels every hour. After a semi sleepover I now know why Vitali eats so much, he’s restless in sleep and can’t regulate his own body temperature.

He kisses my cheek before he pushes up and walks away; his limp is more pronounced, and he hides his pain as he walks through the closet to his bathroom.

Stretching out on his bed, I wince as my muscles twinge, happy at being sore. I don’t remember leaving the apartment or coming into the house. I fell asleep wrapped in his arms and woke up in the same position in a different room to him telling me to drink water. My impulsiveness to run away from Genevieve has landed me in another pile of shit and he’ll run his mouth, proving everyone’s rumors true. The philosophy of a teenager isn’t the same as an adult; becoming the Stasi who existed on their tongues kept the old me safe, protected. But it’s lonely as fuck.

The air in my lungs freezes as a soft knock lands on the closed door. Moving silently, I hide in Vitali’s closet and wait for whoever it is to let themselves in. Please don’t be Inessa. She’s the only person who knew me before I became a bitch and the coke head. I went from spending time at her house daydreaming about our lives like normal little girls to dismissing her at every opportunity I could, and she followed me into the ice without ever shutting me out.

Dani’s voice is closer than I thought it would be and I push myself into the gap behind the door.

“Tali? Why do you want my clothes?”

Something sours in my gut when she walks towards the bathroom door and my hands ball into fists as she presses against the handle. I knew they were friends and the Vartanovs are close, but not close enough to watch your brother-in-law fucking shower. It settles a fraction when she opens it a crack to hear him speak to himself then turns to face the other way only.

“If she’s left I’m fucking handcuffing her to me.”

They act more like siblings as Dani leans against the door, smirking around her interrogation of whosheis.

“Oh yeah, who are you handcuffing to you? Your imaginary friend?”

Why is it making me feel better that his attention is on me rather than the clearly gorgeous woman he’s talking to? I’m not jealous or possessive over people; there will never be a person who belongs to me, and I accept it because expectation is a bigger killer than longing could ever be.

Vitali steps out of the bathroom in a towel and storms through, cursing when he sees the empty room, with Dani on his heels.

“Tell me who she is, please. We tell each other everything.”

Her begging doesn’t work, and I’m hiding between them as Vitali comes back into the closet to get dressed. I’m a grown-ass woman hiding behind a door, listening to him grumble, “She’s a fucking menace, and you don’t tell me shit since you replaced me with Val.”

I’ve never noticed how he hides his hurt behind jokes. His voice is the usual playful puppy, but he doesn’t smile around it and I freeze when he moves closer, staring at the small gap I’m peering through.

His smirk is slow and sinister as I shake my head with wide eyes. He slowly curls his fingers around the edge of the wood and the asshole is going to drag me out into his nosey-ass family wearing nothing but his T-shirt. The smile slips before he quickly picks it back up and stretches through the gap palming my face. His callouses scrape against my cheek and he rakes his fingers against my nape, pulling me closer to him but not into sight of his sister-in-law.

My body is still hypersensitive from the many hours of last night and I lean into his warmth while he continues his conversation like I’m not here and he isn’t caressing my face. The only comfort my body is accustomed to is the one that’s done for an audience, putting on an image of care while never being able to maintain it behind closed doors. This isn’t for other eyes; he’s not touching me to fuck me, but he wants to and it means more that it’s done absentmindedly.

When their conversation comes to an end and Dani leaves, Vitali slowly pulls the door away, revealing my hiding spot.

“There’s my girl. Who you hiding from, sweetness?”

Soreness be damned, I pull him to me and slam my lips over his. It’s partly to reassert that whateverthisis, is only ever physical and just because I want to feel close to him again. His hands go to my hips, pulling me closer as he groans in frustration and moves his mouth away from mine. He closes his eyes, breathing through his nose, resting our foreheads together.Once he’s regulated his breathing, his eyes snap open and disappointment mixes with excited anger.

“I’d love to fuck you again, but I’ve got to go to beat the shit out of some kid’s dad.”

A laugh bursts out of me from how seriously he says it and I fall against his chest, unable to stop. His knuckles press under my chin, titling my face up to him, and he doesn’t stay fixed in one spot, staring at every feature individually.

“You have a beautiful laugh.”

The words are so low they kill the sound in my throat, and he blocks my exit while I freeze. He doesn’t look like he’s lying but I’ve never allowed my laugh to be heard since I was always told that sounding like a braying donkey isn’t attractive.His hands move across any part of my body he can reach as he finally steps back and leads me out of the closet. There are three dresses laid on the bed; none of them are my usual style of uncomfortable and stuck to my ass like my mother prefers.

Tali softly kisses my cheek as he says equally softly, “Spend the day with me and I’ll give you the phone.”

Asshole. I fucking knew he hid it.

I pick up the first dress I touch and pull his T-shirt over my head, making sure I stretch the material out before replacing it with the soft cashmere knit. It’s like being wrapped in a cloud and hugged by it at the same time; there’s no awkward strap digging into my shoulder, or embellishments scratching my arms. I’ve been uncomfortable for so long that it’s become my baseline of life. It started mentally until I let my mother take over every aspect of my life to reduce the battle. That’s the reason I want to curl up in a ball with the soft material and why I don’t move as he wraps his arms around me. He kisses the top of my head, not my cheek or my lips, an innocent kiss to my crown. My eyes close and he hugs me tighter as though he’s aware of everything I keep hidden.

The softness isn’t just in his actions; it flows into his speech as he says against the strands, “I’ve got a theory.”

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