Page 55 of Volatile

Fuck, I can’t be angry at her, it’s impossible and I kiss her wet cheek. She tightens her fingers around mine as I loosen my hold and she fills with nerves. I have to strain my ears to pick up her words as she says, “Ask me, you get one question.”

We both know what’s on my mind and I drop down, bringing the sheets up, so we’re locked away from the world. Stasi doesn’t stop me as she turns us on our sides and the light filters through the sheet with her body pressed against mine.

I’ve never been a delicate person, any difficult conversations are avoided, and I know shit that makes me sick to my stomach, but I block it out. Right now, I can’t do that, if I fuck up and the world loses Stasi it’ll tear me into shreds. I’ve spent fourteen years wondering what happened to the girl on the bridge, waiting for her to pop back up again for my own selfish reasons when she’s been in front of me and doing the same thing I was hoping for, keeping me company in my loneliness.

My voice drops to a whisper as I brush her hair behind her ear.

“Why were you on the bridge, sweetness?”

It’s not the outcome, that was obvious. I want to know the buildup so I can fix it, prevent it happening again. Her hair is darker than it was then, and it was too dark for me to see her eyes, but the same sadness radiates off her. I stroke the backs of my fingers across her cheek while we both hold our breath, my gut twists into knots at the sadness in her eyes. They turn watery as she says in a haunted tone.

“I just wanted it to stop, to not be the slut or the tease, but I wanted to be the dead girl.”

She was a fucking kid. Kids can’t be sluts, it’s impossible. Pulling her into my arms, I kiss her temple, and there’s nothing other than conviction in my voice.

“You’re not a slut, Anastasia.”

I’ve fucked more people than she has but no fucker would say that shit to me.If my girl wants to allow people the pleasure of witnessing hers she can do it but it’s not a reason for judgment. It should be fucking applauded because it’s a heavenly sight. People are dumb as fuck, and I know who each fucking voice was calling her a slut, and which called her a tease. I’m a chicken shit not wanting to asking about Borya, but it leaves quieter than anything I’ve ever said before.

“Did he touch you?”

I know the answer, she focuses her fake chats on stepfathers for a fucking reason, my beautiful woman saves a version of herself who had no one.She’s so fucking deluded to think there’s a bad bone in her body when she’s the savior she never had. I’ve seen how hard she works, how she takes ownership for their freedom, and she’ll disregard everything else as long as she has something to research.

And she breaks as she deflects, “You’ve already used your question, Vartanov.”

My formidable woman.

Kissing her crown, I force myself up and rip the sheets off us.

“You any good at your hobby or do you make that leafy shit you eat?” I ask.

It gets her out of her head, and she rolls her eyes at me before getting out of bed. Fuck me, she’s beautiful. It’s a recurring thought any time I see her, sometimes I blink and it’s like I’ve just seen her for the first time again, but she looks even better wearing a T-shirt she stole from me.

Adjusting my dick so it’s not sticking out, I follow after her like a duckling. The domesticity of watching my girl pad into the kitchen in nothing but my T-shirt has me floating to the island and silently watching her. Stasi disappears through a door, revealing hidden fucking treasure making my stomach rumble. The sneaky little thing has a fully stocked pantry but the door is made to look like a shelf. I’m sure I hear angels sing as I watch the strip lights illuminate all the food, snacks, and cakes. Fuck me, she’s beyond perfection because she hides her snacks better than I ever could.

“I need that,” I say as she piles up some jars on the pantry counter.

If I wasn’t already obsessed with her, I definitely am as she turns to look at me over her shoulder with a smile and the most light I’ve ever seen in her eyes as she teases, “Are you trying to get me naked?”

“I like the way you think, malysh, but no. I need your whole hidden pantry thing so the little shits can stop stealing my snacks.”

“You can share with children,” she deadpans and carries out the ingredients for whatever she’s planning to make us.

I want more of her voice so I admit, “I’m not talking about the kids, it’s Inessa and Dani who are the little shits who steal them. If I didn’t know better I’d think they had the munchies.”

Stasi doesn’t say anything as she carefully arranges everything where she wants it. If she’s a shit cook we’ll live, we have preprepared meals at home and she’ll never lift a finger but we can go through the motions of making meals so I can watch her.

“Need help, sweetness?” I ask, dazed and infatuated.

She looks up and narrows her eyes at me as she huffs, “Do you see me joining you in the cage?”

Okay, then.

I rest my cheek on my hand, watching my favorite things – my girl surrounded by food. My dick comes to life as she takes an apron from the back of the shelf-door, it gets even fucking better as she presses play on the remote and the sound of my comfort movie plays behind me. It’s gruesome and fucked up, but my girl is watching it wearing a fucking apron and mixing the ingredients for pancakes opposite me.

My mouth opens, meaning to say something filthy, but the wrong thing comes out.

“Marry me.” I clear my throat and bullshit my way through explaining my dumbass mouth as she freezes and looks two seconds away from beating the shit out of me. “So, I can watch you cook for me in nothing but an apron every morning.”

---