Page 53 of Pistols and Plush Toys

Elliot jolted at the memory of Mattia’s derision. No, that—no.

He gathered the bear back up and hugged him close. He really was the perfect size for hugging. “Your name… should be something good. Maxwell? Maybe Max, that’s cute—oh!” Of course, that wasperfect.“I know. Maximillian!” He squeezed the bear. It was sosoft.“Maximillian. Yeah, that’s you.”

There was a familiar knock at the door, and Elliot sat up. That had to be Nikolai, coming to get him for breakfast.

Usually this was the point at which Elliot shoved Apricot under the covers or back in his backpack, so Nikolai wouldn’t see him.

But Nikolai obviously knew about Apricot. And of course he knew about Maximillian.

Nikolai hadgiftedElliot with Maximillian. Elliot didn’t think the man had done it to be cruel later.

“Come in,” he said, sitting up in bed without moving to hide either one of the animals out of sight. He’d dressed andbrushed his teeth and everything else when he’d woken up earlier, so he was decent. As decent as he could be, anyway.

The door unlocked and Nikolai poked his head in. It didn’t take long for him to notice both the stuffed animals in the bed with Elliot. His eyes lingered on the bear.

Nikolai cleared his throat. “Morning. Ready for breakfast?”

Last night they’d agreed that Elliot would make crêpes. Elliot was… really looking forward to cooking again. To make something that Nikolai would hopefully enjoy.

“Yeah,” he said. “But, um—” he almost chickened out. It was only his need toknowif Nikolai would be cruel that forced him to plunge forward. “So I-I named him. The bear.” To make sure there was no confusion, he reached out and pulled Maximillian back onto his lap.

Nikolai's face froze. Elliot could almost see the conscious effort he put into not reacting. The back of Elliot’s neck prickled.

“Good name?” Nikolai then asked.

Elliot forced a swallow, mouth dry. “Um, yeah. I think so. I decided on Maximillian. You know, because, um, he looks so fancy?”

“Maxim—” Nikolai started, and then his eyebrows scrunched together. “Maxim-alilly-ons.”

“Oh, um, close,” Elliot said. “Maximillian?”

“Maxim-alilly-ons,” Nikolai repeated dutifully, the exact same way as before.

Elliot couldn’t help it—he laughed.

It cut right through the tension, the way his whole body unlocked as his shoulders quaked. For a second he thought Nikolai might get angry that he was laughing, but Nikolai looked relieved. The corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Maxim is good name,” Nikolai said, coming further into the room. “Is Russian name. Maxim-alilly-ons is also good name, but maybe long name for me.”

Elliot looked to the bear in his lap, and then back up at Nikolai. “Maxim is a Russian name?”

Nikolai nodded.

“Could we, um, could we call him Max for short, then?” As soon as he said it though, he told himself how stupid he was being. Couldwecall him that? Who was he kidding? Nikolai wouldn’t—

“Max,” Nikolai said easily. “Is nice name. Russian people say also Max short for Maxim.”

Elliot nodded, automatically squeezing Max before he made himself stop, blushing furiously. But the nervous flutters weren’t churning into panic and dread, so that was okay.

There was a beat of silence, and then Nikolai asked, “Does your giraffe also have name?”

Elliot threw a startled glance in said giraffe’s direction, and then looked back up at Nikolai. “Um, y-yeah. His… his name is Apricot.”

“Apricot.” Nikolai nodded. “Because… of his color?”

“Sort of?” Elliot said. And then, because Nikolai hadasked,he explained. “Apricot leaves are one of a giraffe’s primary food sources. They can eat like sixty-six pounds of leaves in a day.”

“So many.” Nikolai looked genuinely surprised. “Then is good name for tiny giraffe.”

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