Page 25 of Pistols and Plush Toys

Brooks cringed. “Sorry! I’m sorry.”

Nikolai sighed wearily. “Is hurting you,” he said again. “Is why I’m not want you biting.”

“Sorry,” Brooks said again. At least this time he sounded less like he was expecting a blow. “I—it’s just a habit. I-I don’t even realize I’m doing it.”

It was the most Nikolai had heard Brooks speak at one time. That was progress, right? “But your lip, is hurting, yes?”

Brooks licked his lips this time. But at least he wasn’t sinking his teeth into the abused flesh. “I guess I-I don’t notice stuff like that anymore. Sorry.”

An unpleasant coldness slithered down Nikolai’s spine at the wording. Brooks didn’t notice having a split lip… anymore?

Why was that something he’d grownusedto?

In the face of Nikolai’s silence, Brooks looked back down at his plate. Nikolai tried not to watch too closely as he took a bite of the spaghetti. Brooks chewed slowly, but it didn’t seem as though he was enjoying the flavor.

Well, that made two of them. Nikolai had boiled the water for the pasta and then combined it with a jar of pre-made sauce, because he couldn’t cook for shit.

He supposed it was his own fault for firing the last chef, Nikolai thought sourly. He’d ordered Chinese for lunch and Brooks had eaten a combined total of six actual bites, so Nikolai had tried for simpler. Maybe he should try to coax Brooks into ordering something he liked for meals tomorrow. There had to be something out there he was willing to eat.

“You’re not answering my question from before,” Nikolai said after Brooks had managed a couple more bites and then stopped again.

Unsurprisingly, Brooks flinched once more, and Nikolai, with his new knowledge ofhe’s used to having a split lip, wondered for the first time if maybe… maybeNikolaiwasn’t the only problem.

It made him flush hot with anger, sharp and sudden.

“If you were wanting shower,” Nikolai quickly clarified.

“Oh,” Brooks said. “I… um, yes. Please. Thank you.”

Silence descended once again as they ate, Nikolai forcing himself to eat enough pasta that he wouldn’t be tempted to order a deep-fried treat later, and Brooks birding his way through. He still wasn’t consuming much overall, but it was more than Nikolai had seen him eat at any other meal.

So mild conversation might possibly be a winning strategy.

When they were both finished, he led Brooks through the house and to the bathroom they’d used before. New bags of clothing and fresh soap and shampoo were already on the counter, having been delivered by one of Nikolai’s people earlier in the day.

“You may… take your time.” Nikolai said as he stepped back into the doorway. “Is no rush.”

Brooks was nervous again, but there was nothing he could do for that. Nikolai could be softer on the kid, but he couldn’t just leave him unattended in the bathroom. This room was regularly used by both himself and his staff, and he’d seen more than once growing up how creative people could be in a room one did not consider to have weapons.

The large mirrors were glass, after all.

His eyes lingered on said large mirrors above the sinks before he forced himself to turn around. He couldn’t afford to beso trusting that he was taken for a fool. He’d made those sort of mistakes before and wasn’t eager to relearn the lesson.

To distract himself, Nikolai pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened his messages, starting to work through the unanswered ones.

Brooks's shower lasted long enough for Nikolai to get through almost half of the items in his inbox. Nikolai was almost proud of the kid when he was finally given the okay to turn back around.

***

“I’m wanting to order lunch for us, so is ready later,” Nikolai announced at breakfast the next morning. It was bagels and fruit, and Brooks was picking the grapes out of his fruit bowl and eating them, albeit slowly. It was still something. Nikolai made a mental note. “What you will like?”

Brooks froze with a grape halfway to his mouth, eyes darting to Nikolai.

“Oh, um,” Brooks’s gaze skittered away. “Whatever you want is fine.”

Yeah, Nikolai kind of figured that would be the answer. He tried again, more pointedly. “But what it isyouwill like?”

Then he watched in real time as Brooks started to shut down, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, the grape dropping back into the bowl.

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