Page 51 of Sins and Virtue

“And it didn’t hurt during? Just how many times have you gotten shot?”

“10? 15? 20?”

“No way.” I slapped him on the ribs unconsciously as he grunted, still sensitive from the injury. “Ooo, sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

It was not.

“Seriously though, who do you think you are? The Terminator? Superman?”

“No, Batman’s more my style.” He was still sarcastic while being hospitalized; this guy definitely had some unsolved trauma or shit.

Semi-scowling, I shake my head. “Dummy,” I said under my breath, mindlessly lifting my other free hand and tucking a loose curl away from his temple, then deciding to just thread my fingers through it. His hair held the faintest smell of strawberries, just like mine.

I always wondered why such a delicate, sweet scent didn’t bother a brute rogue like him.

My hands paused when I noticed his eyes tracking me.

Yielding embarrassment crawled on my cheeks. “What is it?”

“Have you been crying, Blair?” He raised his hand, touching my cheek with the back of his palm. As he nudged gently, the slow-burning fire sparked beneath, making me selfishly crave for more.

“No—I… well, yes,” I admitted flusteredly, my hand fleeing his hair.

The lines of his lips went down. “Why?”

“Why?” The lump in my throat reappeared like a heavy anchor as saltiness burned the back of my eyes as one tear escaped. “I mean, look at yourself. You were shot. The cops could have found you, and you nearly died. Do you know the strength it takes not to break down every day? I saw you lying here unresponsive? Or the fact that I left at night, not knowing if I was going to come back and find out you were dead.”

“I’m sorry, kotyonok.” He wiped the tear away with his thumb.

“You don’t have to be. It was just the stress and not knowing what would happen. It drives anyone insane.”

One brief smile touched his lips, instantly satisfied. “Who knew all I had to do was get shot for you to care about me?”

“Oh, shut up!” I retorted, irritated, while again slapping him in the chest right above the surgical spot. He flinched, dropping his hand from my cheek. “Sorry.” Not really; this time he deserved it. Well, maybe a little.

He let out a rough chuckle that was a bit more airy than usual. “God, if bullets don’t kill me, you will.”

A repulsive tang sat on the back of my throat as I felt two pairs of dead, raging eyes prickle at the back of my spine, haunting me constantly.

Some days I refused to look back, but I never changed his lurking presence.

My chest compressed as I lingered on that dirty little secret, palms folded, knuckles at my side. Though I tried to keep my composure, the look on my face must have given me away, as he said.

“It was just a joke,kotyonok.”

“Right,” I spoke tight-lipped, my shoulders falling square. “Anyway,” I whirled around, taking a bin full of water and a dry towel, dragging the table closer to us as I then proceeded to sit down on the edge of the bed.

Eying the bin, he asked. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you clean up a bit. If you haven’t noticed, you're dirty as a skunk.”

He pushed his head back on the pillow, his lips pulled at the corners, fighting a smile.

“A skunk? Damn, not even a dog?”

“That’s offensive… to the dog.”