𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐦𝐞 | ✔

ғɪғᴛʏ ғɪᴠᴇ

without further adieu, I present to you the next chapter...

༼ つ ◕_◕ ༽つ

DEVI BHATT

There's an empty feeling you get after ripping yourself open, for someone to see.

Twenty-four hours later, and I'm the talk of the house.

I watch for shadows under the door which indicate if someone's going past. I listen for steps and voices, to hear what they're saying.

There's no tension. Only soft palpable air if that makes sense.

My eyes find their way back to Sasha who's scribbling away something. Slowly, my shoulders slump against my chair and my stiff gait becomes a slouch. I take a breath, tapping my fingers on my leg and paying attention to the pattern details of the chair I'm lying on.

A knock arises at the door. I look to Sasha who's already up on her feet walking towards the door.

I've never been a nail biter but I might start now.

I stop breathing when she turns the door handle and pulls.

"Fuck," Demyan rushes in and I– my heart could actually collapse.

Both of his hands go to cup Sasha's cheeks, pulling her face to his in a slow, yet desperate kiss. One of his hands drop to her waist, wrapping around her, and Sasha sinks into him.

My cheeks burn. Well if this isn't awkward then I don't know what is.

I hear Sasha take a step back. She hates PDA. "Wait, wait," Sasha whispers, pulling away.

I don't know if I'm thankful for her stopping him for my sake, because I know where his frustration and attention will turn to now.

He nods closes his eyes, resting his forehead on hers taking a breath. His head swings to mine in a split second, catching my eyes like a deer in headlights.

His eyes growl at me– I don't know how, but they just do. Blue eyes, sharp as ice ready to cut me up more.

"You," he says, disgusted.

He hated me before without a reason and was told off for it, but now... he has a valid excuse.

"Demyan," Sasha says in an authoritive tone.

"I don't even fucking know why you're allowed here," he seethes, flashing his teeth at me. He stalks forward. "I hated you before, but now? The word doesn't even do justice. Just look at you sat all sad over there in a comfortable little chair rather than in that cell you deserve. Don't you dare think you can weave through us all and manipulate us."

He has every right to say this, I think.

Pfftt, no he doesn't, the other voice says.

"Demyan," sasha growls, curling her fingers around his arm.

"Don't defend her, dorogoy. Don't. And don't fall for her act– can't you see that she's manipulative? She manipulated everyone, baby. And she doesn't seem done with manipulating you." (darling)

I stare at him.

"Be fucking careful before she stabs you in the back," he says to Sasha before turning towards me again. I look away. "Who the fuck do you even think you are being anywhere near my woman? You're going to die anyways so at least try and make it easier for her."

I blink, not showing him any glimpse of how much everything hurts.

"Did you hear me? You are going to die– and if Grisha can't do it, just know damn well I will step in."