Looking For The Light (Book 2)

Looking For The Light Chapter 9 - Viktoriya

            Paris had changed Eli, and perhaps not all in a good way.  Maybe it wasn’t Paris, maybe it was the influence of the Spetsgruppa Drakon Pushki.  Or maybe it was just Eli’s opportunity to live a life without expectations or consequences.  This was the radical rebellion of his late teens, or the bad decisions of his early twenties.    

            He flirted with women in nightclubs, buying the women drinks and dancing with them.  There were nights when he wouldn’t come home with the rest of the group.  Viktoriya assumed he was with one of these girls.  He was always back in the morning, in the gym or the hotel pool, and with them for breakfast.  No one ever said anything about where he’d been the night before. Viktoriya didn’t even know why it bothered her.  Vikenti behaved the same, except for the gender of his dates, but she did not hold it against Vikenti.  Eli was an adult, and as long as these women were also consenting adults, there was nothing to be upset about.

Viktoriya found herself watching Eli sleep.  Unable to sleep herself, she just watched him.  It was dark, with just the moon and lights of the city through the open balcony door, but Viktoriya’s vlast’ let her see him perfectly.  He slept on his side, the bandage of a fresh tattoo on his right arm from a night with Vikenti.  His blankets barely covered his shins.  His two dogs were curled against him, one against his back, and the other against his chest, in his arms.  Eli’s glasses were neatly placed on the night stand, next to his phone.  His laptop was on the floor, half covered by the pair of jeans he had worn out that night.  She was barely awake when he came in, a little drunk from his night out, peeling off his tee shirt and dropping his pants, before crawling into bed in his underwear.  Viktoriya could see each line of the muscles of his back.  Each curve and plane.  She noticed the little curl of hair on the back of his neck.  She wondered if it tickled him.

Tikhon used to watch her sleep, she always fell asleep before him.  She would occasionally wake up to use the toilet and find Tikhon’s eyes on her.  He would always be concerned for her, worried for her.  Viktoriya remembered being annoyed at Tikhon for it.  Annoyed at his concern, at his attention, at his love for her.  Now she felt a stab of pain when she thought of it.  Viktoriya didn’t realize that she loved Tikhon until he was gone.  He was gone in a way that he wasn’t coming back.

Her stomach turned.  With a groan, she threw back her quilt and kicked at the sheets.  Kicking only made it feel worse.  Viktoriya held her mouth, rushing to the bathroom, and slapping at the wall until she found the light switch.  She fell to her knees in front of the toilet, ignoring the pain in her legs as her dinner came up on her.  Viktoriya couldn’t remember the last time she was sick like this, or what could have brought this on.  Soon, Viktoriya was sure she was vomiting her lunch and breakfast too.  Her throat hurt, her chest hurt, her stomach hurt.  She began to wonder how much she had left to give.

Viktoriya was surprised as her hair was lifted away from her face and off her back.  There was a hand on her back, gently rubbing her through the tank top she had worn to bed.  Before she could look up, the mystery was solved by a voice in her mind.

“Are you okay, Viktoriya?” Eli asked, getting down on the floor beside her.  Viktoriya started to feel bad that she had woke Eli up, but before she could apologize, she got sick again.  She was embarrassed to sick in front of him, for him to find her hugging the toilet bowl in an old tank top and pair of gym shorts, without her makeup, her hair a mess.  But she didn’t know why she was so embarrassed.  She was there another ten minutes, and he was there the whole time.  When it was finally over, Eli helped her wash her face, then offered her a glass of water from the sink.  While Viktoriya sipped it, Eli put a hand to her forehead, pushing a frizzy clump of black bangs out of the way.

“I don’t feel like I have a fever.” She said, looking up at his hand, and then at him.  Eli had put his glasses on, but nothing else.  Her eyes had drifted along his muscled arm, to his chest, nothing but muscle under some chest hair, and then forced herself to look up at his face, instead of drifting down toward his abs, or further.  Viktoriya didn’t feel so bad about her appearance after looking at Eli.  His own hair was stuck in a million different directions.  He smelled like beer.  His chin was covered in a dark brown stubble.  There was a stain on his cheek.  At first she thought it was lipstick, but upon closer inspection, Viktoriya realized it was ketchup.  She took the wash cloth, and wiped the condiment from his face.