I Am Mustafin

| 18 | - Pozhaluvsta, Lyubov

It's been a couple of days since Ciana tried to freeze me alive and it seems that that's the only thing I can think about damn near every minute of every day.

Will she try again? If she does, will she succeed?

A part of me can't help but wonder if Efrem is going to do anything about it, and I almost want to ask. My only fear is that he'll think that I expect him to do something about it. And maybe...maybe I do?

Why do I care about what he thinks of me?

I sigh in exasperation, swinging my feet as I sit on the thick, concrete rail of the balcony above the main entrance of the house. My hands are planted behind me, bearing my weight as I lean back into them. The cool morning breeze brushes my skin and lightly blows the leaves off of the trees as fall quickly approaches.

It's so nice out here.

I moan softly as I close my eyes and enjoy the warmth of the sun kissing my bare shoulders. My hair is pinned up to a messy bun with a navy blue scrunchy that matches my tank top, nicely paired with my black shorts and ankle-high black socks that hug my feet in my white sneakers.

Maybe this is why I can't stop thinking about that night. I have been coming out here every morning since and unlike that room, the only thing that's killing me is the fact that I can't stay out here all day.

My eyes flutter open and I smile in content as I gaze off into the empty fields of grass across the large property.

Then, it crosses my mind: what if I do ask? At least if he actually gives me an answer, I'll know where I stand. Am I just a pawn in whatever game he's playing? Just how disposable am I?

The idea lives bitterly in my mind, knowing that I really am disposable. There's nothing that says otherwise and everything that says that I am...especially when there's the title of me sitting somewhere in his office. I am a thing, a "property".

I belong to him.

"Alaki," Tavin's voice breaks me free of my thoughts, my head turning to the side to look at him over my shoulder as he stands near the set of glass doors, holding one of them open. "He's ready for you at the table."

My heart skips a beat as I try so hard to hide the fact that I have completely forgotten that today is Wednesday–the day of the week that Efrem and I sit together at the dinner table and have breakfast together. Or so, that's how it's been the past few weeks since he seems to be so busy as of late.

It's usually a really awkward and silent hour anyway.

A shaky breath parts my lips as I completely turn to face Tavin. I carefully push myself off of the rail, planting my feet on the concrete floor of the balcony. Not a second before I begin my way back into the house and down the direction of the dining room, I catch myself chewing on the inside of my cheek, anxiously.

I have a feeling that the next hour will be the most uncomfortable hour of my life and I do my best to walk as slow as I can, knowing that Tavin is hovering as he walks closely behind me.

"Don't bring it up," he suddenly says and I nearly stop dead in my tracks. I hesitate, slowing my pace even more as I make my way down the stairs.

"How did you –"

"It's my job to notice when things seem 'out of the ordinary'," he chuckles lightly. "You haven't walked this slow since the day after you tried to escape from your bedroom window. Of which...I distinctly remember you being so hesitant to face him."

Fair point.

"Well," I hesitate to ask. "Why shouldn't I bring it up?"

"He hates incompetence," Tavin is blunt and though he can easily speed up to walk beside me, he continues on his course, steadily keeping up behind me. "You reminding him that you didn't listen will only irritate him, and he has already spoken to you about it, I'm sure. There's no need for you to bring it up again."