Butterfly's Year

50. Like children

When Victor returned to the apartment, the last thing on my mind was for him to give me an earth-shattering orgasm. He didn't even enter the apartment properly. A more accurate description of how he crossed the threshold would be – rolling in.

The sound of this unusual entry into the hall snapped me out of a light nap, which I had fallen into shortly after my boyfriend left. I ignored the first thud against the wall, but the subsequent shuffling, stumbling, and the crash of a broken vase were too alarming to disregard. So I dragged myself out of bed, disheveled, and shuffled towards the strangely disturbing noises.

One look at my boyfriend fully woke me up.

Fresh signs of a beating were visible on Victor's face. This time, however, it was clearly more than just a single punch. I even suspected it wasn't the work of one person. But I didn't have time to ask any questions. I didn't even have time to open my mouth because Victor didn't give me a chance to react.

– Will you believe me if I tell you it was just a stupid accident? – he asked unconvincingly as soon as our eyes met.

He smiled crookedly with obvious effort, probably trying to suggest that it wasn't as bad as it looked, but it had the opposite effect. Only when I saw how much difficulty he had in simply lifting the corners of his mouth did my stomach perform some wild revolution, and the blood drained from my face.

– No – I replied in a deadly serious tone.

– Well, then I won't be able to explain it to you – he muttered, giving me a look that was probably meant to communicate: "There's no point in digging into this". – It's... guy stuff. But I'd like you to leave for a while. Maybe go to London to your mom's. At least until I can arrange proper protection for you here.

The little creature living inside me widened its eyes. What? I should go somewhere? He's the one who just came back beaten up. Someone shot at him. Someone tried to run him over, for crying out loud!

–Me? – I asked, looking at him like he was out of his mind. – You're the one who needs protection. You're the one who's constantly getting beaten up. Where's your bodyguard, anyway?

Victor looked at me with the eyes of a tired old man. He hesitated, as if wondering whether he really wanted to tell me, but ultimately decided not to withhold this information.

– In the hospital – he muttered, letting his gaze wander everywhere but into my eyes.

My stomach did another flip, and my heart, together with my stomach, tried to leap into my throat.

– Oh my God, in the hospital?! – I shouted, now genuinely scared. – What happened?

– A bit more of a misunderstanding than usual – Victor replied with stoic calm, which only fueled my anxiety.

– Are you kidding me?! – I snapped, widening my eyes in disbelief. – This isn't funny. Someone's going to kill you eventually!

Victor twisted his mouth into a grimace, which, upon closer inspection, could be interpreted as impatience. I also noticed that he clenched his teeth, which cost him an extraordinary amount of effort.

– Nothing's going to happen to me, okay? – he snapped angrily, finally showing some emotion. –The most important thing is for you to leave here for a while, and everything will be fine. I'm going to take a shower because I look like I've been bombed.

Having said that, he turned on his heel and simply headed towards the bathroom.

The little creature living inside me opened its eyes wide in disbelief, and its jaw almost dropped to the floor. No way! We were in the middle of a serious discussion about his health and safety, and he just casually went to take a shower?! He preferred to stand alone under a torrent of water rather than tell me who was persecuting him and why? What was this?! An adult version of kindergarten?! You keep pressing the issue instead of just leaving me alone, so I'm going to sulk and hide?!