𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞 | ✔

ᴇ ɪ ɢ ʜ ᴛ ᴇ ᴇ ɴ

A/N  for someone in particular : I am incredibly sorry for this molly in the trolley

Without further adieu, enjoy these chapters...

༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

DEVI BHATT

Falling backwards onto the bed, I feel around the blankets for my phone which I left at the house by accident.

"Gotcha!" I find it and turn it on checking for any messages from anyone. There are zero, as normal.

Grisha comes strolling in talking to someone on the phone in russian. With one hand he begins unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt. In this second I choose to keep my eyes trained on him.

"Santos, mne nuzhna komanda v "Chetyre ognennykh nochi" szadi. Dva ital'yantsa, odna triada. Vernite ikh na nashu podzemnuyu bazu. Tsep' ikh i ostavit' ikh v temnote," Grisha says. (Santos, I need a team at Four Fire Nights out back. Two Italians, one Triad. Bring them back to our underground base. Chain them up and leave them in the dark.)

"Da, ty tozhe khochesh' tsepochku na sheyu?" the person on the end chuckles. (Would you like a chain around their neck too?)

"Zabavnyy," Grisha deadpans. "pogovorim pozzhe." (Funny / talk to you later)

"Proshchay lyubov'." (goodbye, love)

I sit up looking at Grisha as he turns his back to me. A large slash runs across his shoulder blades, I let out a mangled cry.

"What- what happened?" I get up and walk to him. Before I can raise my hand to touch it, he turns around, stopping my wrist.

I scowl at his hand which grips my wrist. "A light cut, that's all," he says, but I don't take it.

"Light?" I say in disbelief. "It's anything but light."

He turns around, looking me dead in the eye, very ticked off. "I said it's just a light cut."

"Well then if it's a light cup you should be fine when I do this." Reaching behind his back, I quickly find the wound and dig my fingers lightly into it.

"Blyad'," he bites his tongue, narrowing his eyes at me. (Fuck)

"Blyad' yeah," I look at him trying to hide it all.(Fuck)

"Do you know what you just said?" he lowers his voice, smirking. "You said fuck."

"Nice, now stop being irrational and let me clean you up. If I don't then why am I even here, Grisha?"

"Because I want you here. Near me. Is that enough for you?" he whispers, his voice curling in irritation. I tilt my head to look up at him, my voice lodged in my throat. He's so close, we're almost brushing noses.

I almost want to say no, just to spite him, but I hold back.

I give him the most unamused look I can, folding my arms into my chest. "You wanted me for situations like this," I point out. "Not just because."

"I needed you for this, I didn't say anything about wanting," he says in a hoarse voice. He's so close to me, almost like he's trying to big me up.

I swallow hard. "Then why did you want me?"

His tongue pokes out of his cheek as he rakes his gaze over my face, stopping at my lips. It stays there. I let my tongue roll out and wet my lips making his eyes shoot back up to mine.