Sofia Petrov was used to a life of danger. Growing up as a part of the Bratva in Moscow had made sure of that. Though, nothing in the world could have prepared her for the sinful temptation that was Alexei Zakharov. Brooding and haunted by the demon...
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Something pierced through my heart as I watched my milaya walk away from me. I hated myself at that moment. Why couldn't I give her something so simple? She hadn't asked me for much as it is. But something was holding me back. Or more like, the memory of a certain woman was holding me back. My mouth soured at the thought of her, my fists clenching and the familiar wave of helplessness taking over me. No. I wouldn't let it consume me this time. I would battle my demons a hundred times if it meant getting Sofia to look at me like she did when we were kids. But for now, I'd give her some time. I couldn't barge in at the moment and expect her to talk to me after the way I had acted.
My feet carried me towards my bedroom but I stopped midway. I couldn't do this. I couldn't let her think she meant nothing to me. And most of all, I didn't want us going to bed angry at each other. Suppressing a sigh, I reached her bedroom, my knuckles raised as I hesitated a beat. I shook my head to clear the hesitation before swiftly rapping on the door three times. The door was immediately flung open, Sofia's figure clearly visible even in the darkness.
"Alexei?"
"I went through something. 12 years ago. It scarred me so much that I have a hard time communicating with women. I just don't...fuck." I blurted out as I ran a hand through my hair.
"Hey...Alexei, it's fine. Why don't you come inside, hmm?"
I flicked on the lights as I stepped inside, shutting the door behind me. I could make out Sofia's slightly reddened eyes, fresh tear tracks on her cheeks.
"Were you crying?"
Sofia looked away at my question as she fiddled with the comforter on her bed.
"I don't cry." She sniffed as I tentatively sat down beside her, only an inch of space between us.
"It's okay to admit that you cried, milaya. That you feel. It's okay to lower your guard sometimes."
"I could say the same for you." She retorted as I chuckled softly.
Touché.
I could feel her eyes glued to my side as I rolled up the sleeves of my shirt, leaning back on my hands as a comfortable silence lingered between us.
"I always make you cry, huh?"
"I guess you could say that." She murmured with a watery laugh as she looked down, blunt as usual. "Does it make me seem weak that I still want to be around you no matter how much you hurt me?" She asked, a strange sort of vulnerability in her eyes as she directed her question at me. And damn if it didn't make that beating organ in my chest hurt. I could see the raw pain in her eyes, the fear of being rejected again there. I had put it there. I was the one responsible for her pain. And that knowledge fucked me up more than I liked to admit.
"No, milaya. It doesn't." I muttered as I laced my fingers with hers. "It makes you strong as hell. That you're even giving a bastard like me a chance."
