late nights {Boris Pavlikovsky}

XX

Y/n

I can see boris pacing back and forth infront of his window from the safety of his room. A wicked grin spread across my face, pay backs a bitch. He looks up at me through the window the frustration etched into every line in his face, fills me with an addictive sense of power. 

"V'hat the hell!" He yelled up in disbelief, throwing his hands up in the air and running them through his rugged curls. An idea struck me and I giggle almost Maniacally to myself. I look back into the room my eyes immediately finding the black bag on his bed. I move from my spot situated on top of his desk and quickly snatch the with a quick zip I emptied the  contents. Kylies shit flew through the air pumbeling boris on the head.

"WHAT THE FUCK. СУМАСШЕДШАЯ СУКА!"  His acent added an extra layer of intensity, I knew the last word meant bitch. I loved being able to get under his skin like this. He bends down picking up a hot pink bra and chucks in up towards the window before storming off around the side of the house. Where the fuck is he going?

Heart pounding, I lean further out of the window, trying to catch a glimpse of Boris's whereabouts. The realization that he's not just venting his frustration but taking it to another level sends a shiver down my spine.

What has he gotten himself into now? Ignoring the nagging voice of caution in my head, I hurry downstairs, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the stairswell As I rush to the living room, the sight that greeted me froze me in place. Glass shards litter the floor, reflecting slivers of moonlight streaming in through the shattered window. Boris stands in the center of the chaos, his chest heaving with rage, his knuckles white as he clenches his fists. The blood that trickling down his forarm makes my chest pang with guilt and fear. He whirls around to face me, his eyes blazing with fury.

I shoot back an angry glare, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Wow, breaking windows now, are we?" I taunt, my words laced with venom.

Boris's expression darkens, his anger boiling to the surface. "I wouldn'thave to if you weren't being a fucking psycho," he seethes, his voice a low growl.

"Oh, right im the psycho" I retort, refusing to back down. "You're the one who's always throwing tantrums and breaking things when you get pissed off."

His fists clench at his sides, his face contorted with rage. "You're unbelievable," he spits, his voice laced with fury. "You think you walk around  around the place like your the center of  universe all the damn time? Getting all jealous when I'm not attached to your side. Your fucking exhausting, get a grip." I feel the tears roll up from my chest but I refuse to give him that satisfaction. 

My voice trembles as I barely contain my tears . "You've changed, Boris," I accuse, the words dripping with bitterness. "Ever since Kylie came around, you haven't given me the time of day. But before that, you were chasing after me like a damn puppy."

Boris's expression darkens, but I refuse to back down. "It's not like that," he protests weakly, but I can see the guilt flickering in his eyes.

"Isn't it?" I challenge, my anger boiling over. "When I got drugged at that party, who was the one who stood up for me? It wasn't you, Boris. It was Theo."

His silence is deafening, confirming my worst fears. "Theo got the shit beaten out of him for me! If he wasent there imagine what would have happened!" I continue, my voice rising with each word. "You were too busy getting fucked up with Kylie to even notice that I needed you."

Boris's jaw tightens, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I messed up, okay?" he admits, his voice strained. "I should have been there for you."

"Damn right, you should have," I snap, my hands trembling with rage. "But you weren't. And now, every time I see you with her, it's like a sick reminder that you've changed."

His expression shifts, a mixture of guilt and regret clouding his features. "I didn't mean too." he murmurs, but his words offer little solace.

"Well, you did," I seethe, the anger consuming me from within. "And I'm sick of making excuses for you."

"Then dont." He steps close enough to me that I can feel his hot breath on my cheek. I feel overwhelmed and the tears just start to spill over. His softened gaze lowers to my lips which rest between my teeth. Before I have the chance to object he closes the distance between us. This is so wrong but, why does it feel so good. Tears stream down my Cheeks as I run my trembling hands through the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer as if it will erase the distance that had formed between us. He nestles his hand on my cheek causing his blood to smear as he wipes away my tears. I don't want to be just a dirty secret but the desire that strikes me with every touch of his skin is unbearable.

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Woah guys.