Page 64 of Mafia and Scars

I tug the blanket over my arm a little more as if that’ll help. It’s fruitless. Sleep is a thing of the past now. The haunted way she looked flashes in my mind, and my heart squeezes again. And the way she was curled up in a ball, making herself even smaller…

I don’t want to see that look on her face again.

But I don’t understand why.

Liar.

I know why. Matvey even saw it.

She does something to me. And maybe I do like her.

But…it could never happen. Right? That can only ever be a pipe dream.

With a weary exhale, I sit up a little more. No sense in pretending I’m going to get any more sleep. Once more my gaze drifts toward the bedroom. I stand from the chair and nudge the door open. And I sigh.

Because I shouldn’t be doing this.

It’s wrong. It’s fucking creepy.

But I can’t help myself.

It’s just to make sure she’s okay still. That she got back to sleep.

One step then another. And then I’m standing at the edge of the bed, watching over her. Her expression is peaceful, nothing like the terror and fear that lingered on it after that nightmare. A part of me wanted to press her about it. To ask what would cause such a reaction in her. But it’s not my place. Still, I’m curious. Because if I know, then I can fix it…maybe.

She sighs softly, turning in her sleep to her back. Her auburn hair tumbles across her forehead. Her eyes flutter behind her lids as she dreams.

My fingers twitch at my side.

Don’t do it, Viktor.

My hand moves regardless of my brain, and my fingers hover over her forehead. Then it drops down to my side as I fist it, clenching my hand tightly.

Once more my mind races. Back to the garden, when her hand braced against my bare forearm. The current that zapped through me instead of repulsion. The softness of her fingers against the ink along my arms.

What if…? But that little voice in the back of my head whispers I shouldn’t be here. I really fucking shouldn’t.

I continue to stare at her. Her cheeks are flushed, one hand curled up against her chest, the other tangled in the blankets. Her chest rises and falls steadily, slowly. Unlike mine. Because my chest thunders. I don’t know what I expected. That maybe watching her sleep would make this…thing inside me go quiet. That the tension inside me would ease if I knew she was still okay. But all seeing her does is fan the flames of the fire that’s already burning fiercely under my skin.

She’s sunshine in a person. Always smiling, always positive, and always bringing light into places when all I’ve ever known are shadows. She touches my life in a way I’m not sure how to handle, but I can’t help being curious. And worse yet, I want to let her keep doing it.

My fingers twitch again. And I reach out to brush the hair off her cheek. Trace the curve of her jaw.Touch. That forbidden thing that for so long felt like agony, but now, with her, it feels like temptation and salvation all rolled into one.

I’ve never kissed anyone and wanted to still remember it the next day.

But I want that with her.

A taste.

Just one kiss.

One soft, fleeting thing to calm the storm in my mind…

I lower myself beside the bed, cautious not to disturb her. My hand braces against the edge of the mattress. I lean in slowly, holding my breath. My chest tightens so hard it burns.

God, this is a mistake.

What if I’m wrong? What if it repulses me?