From Russia With Loathing

Part 8

After rearranging some of the boxes into different piles my arms start to feel tired. I walk back down to the steps and into the living room.

The sun is starting to set over the city. I don't think I will ever get used to these views.

I notice movement out of the corner of my eye. I turn and see Viktor moving around in the kitchen.

The kitchen is just as impressive as the rest of the house. Black cabinets and concrete countertops match the industrial look of the whole place.

I take a seat at on one of the six bar stools at the eat in kitchen island. I watch Viktor move about the kitchen with ease. He puts a tray of food in the oven and starts mixing something in a pot on the stovetop.

"You cook?" I ask him. This kitchen is way to nice for a single guy who doesn't cook.

"I reheat." He holds up a plastic container. His eyes don't look up from what he is doing.

"I'm going to Ikea tomorrow. Do you need anything?"

"Why?" He stops what he's doing and looks up at me.

"I thought I would be friendly and ask." I answer him. "What is your problem? I know we both loath each other, and this whole fucked up situation, but we can at least be nice to each other while we are being forced to live together."

"No. Why do you need to go to Ikea?" He asks. Ignoring what I just said.

"I want to get a bookshelf and ..." he cuts me off before I can continue the list I made.

"No. Your putting some cheap Swedish bookshelf in my bedroom."

"Um, it's MY bedroom now. Whether either of us like it or not, I live here now. So you can do anything you want in YOUR bedroom. But in MY room I want a cheap Swedish bookshelf, new sheets on the bed, and some new pillows." I tell him. And as I predicted, his jaw ticks. He says something under his breath in Russian but I don't catch it.

"Look, I want you here was much a you want to be here. Not only am I being forced to let you live here but I'm being forced to let you sleep in MY room in My bed." Um, what did he just say to me!? "No, it's not YOUR bedroom now. It is still MY bedroom, and I like it just the way it is. There are fresh sheets on the bed, and I will find a place for you to put your precious books."

He sets a plate of food in front of me. He then walks around the island, and sits down a few stools away.

"I. am. not. sleeping with you." I tell him.

"No princess, you are not sleeping with me. I said you were sleeping in my bed. I never said I would be sleeping next to you. But don't worry, I'm sure at some point you will be begging me to fuck you all night long in that bed." He turns his attention back to his plate of food.

I just sit there and stare at him. I had figured him for an ass hole but I guess he is also a disgusting, self righteous, arrogant prick of an ass hole. I want to punch him in the face.

I don't feel like eating anymore, so I get up and walk back to 'his bedroom'. He can't see me but I roll my eyes at him. I've only been here a few hours and I already want to jump off the balcony.

I figure I should unpack my clothes. I was going to wait to do it tomorrow, but I have nothing else to do right now.

I open the door next to the bed that suspect is the closest. And I'm right, only the door also leads into the bathroom.

The closet is lined head to toe in dark mahogany, open shelves and drawers surround a metal rod on each of the three sides. Button down dress shirts, all shades of black and a white, take up half the hanger space on the far side. On the right are different cuts and styles of black and gray suites. I try to open one of the drawers but it's locked. I try another one. This one opens and is full of neatly folded white shirts.

I start hanging some of my dresses and shirts in the empty space opposite of his. I neatly refold the rest of my clothes and put them in the empty drawers. By the time I am done the closest in full.

I decide to rearrange some of my shirts. Because what else is there to do.

"Do you have enough space?" Viktor says behind me. I hadn't noticed him. I jump and a small sound escapes my lips.

"Yeah," I breath out.

"The buttons here," He points to a small touch screen with different options on it. "Lock and unlock different drawers. You can program the drawers to a specific button. You can also program them to only open with a passcode." He shows me how to do it. He presses a few of the buttons and types in a few numbers. Seems easy, but still to complicated for a closet.

What is with him and security. I mean who has a passcode locked closet drawer? What is even in those drawers that they need to be so heavily locked up? Is he afraid someone is going to break in and steal his socks?

"There are towels and stuff in the closet in the bathroom." He tells me.

"Is there a passcode lock for that too?"

He doesn't answer me. He just opens one of the drawers, grabs a few things from it, and walks out of the bedroom.

As soon as I'm alone I strip out of my jeans, shirt and bra, and put on an oversized Pratt T-shirt. I used to sleep in one of Robs old Columbia shirts, but I shoved it to the bottom of a random box before they all got shipped.

I pickup the box with all my bathroom stuff in it and set it on the bathroom counter.

The counter has his and hers sinks and mirrors. I open a drawer on the right side and find a few different types of razors and shaving supplies. I open a drawer on the left side and it's empty. I fill all the drawers full of face products, hair tools and products, feminine products, and extra soap.

The shower is huge. It could easily fit five people in it. There are 10 shower heads, all different shapes and sizes, on the ceiling and walls. The best part of this place is the windows, but this is definitely a very close second.

I walk back out to the bedroom. I dig out my laptop and crawl into bed. It feels weird being in someone else's bed. It feels like I'm sleeping in a hotel or something. Only I'm not, I'm sleeping in what's supposed to be my apartment.

I do have to admit, the mattress feels amazing. The sheets are soft and silky. It feels like sitting on a cloud.

I don't even open my laptop. I just instantly set it on the night stand.

I just sit there and look at the view.  The whole New York skyline lit up in the darkness.

Viktor was right. The view is even better at night.

What do Russian mafia men who live in New York eat? Chinese take out? Pizza?
I hated to just generalize the food but I didn't know what to have them eat.
Let me know what you think!