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 Posted: Fri Nov 24, 2017 2:09 pm
Lev couldn’t get the words out of his head, or the sound of bitter laughter cold in his memory.
I want to have not left in the first place.
He couldn’t figure out what Seth had meant. He’d left. He walked away. Ran even. How could he possibly say that he wanted to not have left in the first place when he had and his only excuse was that he hadn’t wanted to see Lev again.
The sound of his own name was ringing in his ears. Not many people called him Lyova these days. Not since he left his country of birth and moved to the States. There was no need for people to call him anything but Lev. And that’s all he was. He had more to worry about than making friends. He had his younger brother who was still trying to decide on what college to go to, and he had his career. He was determined to make a life for himself and Misha that they would have never had under the Volkov family’s rule.
His flight was in a few days, but that didn’t mean Lev had to sit around and wait for the days to pass by. He still had another photoshoot, anyway, but that night he decided he wanted to relax as best he could and enjoy himself.
At the club he wore rather simple clothes, instead of a blazer or designer sweaters. He just wore a simple teeshirt and jeans; clothes that he wouldn’t be upset if they needed to be discarded the next day, for whatever reason.
The heavy beat of the music was like a balm to his heart. It penetrated through the stress and absorbed all the frustration he felt, washing it away. He wasn’t naive enough to think he wasn’t attractive. He was a model for his profession and got plenty of looks; golden haired, bright blue eyed, and he was built rather decently as well.
A few women were taking turns dancing with him, which he didn’t mind. One had their arms around him as they rocked to the pulsing, deafening music in the club, barely able to see anything around them anyway. He would just do his best to ignore what Seth had said before he ran away again.
If luck would have it, Lev would never have to see him again.
It was so much easier when he didn’t have to think.
He was three glasses of bourbon into the night, a fourth half knocked back. Under normal circumstances, it was always wine that Seth went to, but this was not a wine sort of night. He needed something stronger, something that would make him forget everything that had happened over the last few days, something that wouldn’t let him think too hard about what he was doing.
Or who he was missing.
The music was loud, a thrum in his veins that reverberated throughout his body and filled his senses, already hazy. Seth was not a lightweight by any means, but the alcohol was already serving its purpose, numbing him effectively and making him feel pleasantly buzzed. It was a pure and exhilarating relief just to let himself go, to lose himself in the crush of bodies and the continual rhythm of the drums.
Here, he didn’t have to think about Lev. Here, he could focus on the attractive, well muscled man who had made eyes at him from the bar, and who was now leading him out onto the dance floor with clear intent. He didn’t have to think about the stupidity of what he’d last said to Lev when his dance partner was taking hold of his hips in a loose grasp, both of them swaying, Seth tilting his head back, letting himself just - not think.
He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to remember how painful it had felt seeing the look on Lev’s face, hearing the hatred in his voice, or about how badly Seth wanted to just let himself feel.
No. He was not here to think.
One of Seth’s hands was on the man’s shoulder. He gave him a serene, coy smile and twisted around, much to the delight of his partner, who took ahold of his hips again, moving in tandem. There wasn’t much space between them, and too many people around them, which Seth took as a good thing, a necessary thing, because he wanted to be lost. He wanted to be utterly, completely lost in this mass of music and drink and laughter and dancing.
And then, as if the world had decided he was not ever going to catch a break, he saw him.
Across the dance floor, fifteen or so feet away, a woman’s arm wrapped around his neck. Seth stared, momentarily freezing, feeling everything in him come to a screeching grinding halt. Something in his heart seemed to trap itself where it was, fluttering madly.
No.
Not here.
Not now.
It was unfair. The universe was not so kind.
Very deliberately, he made himself do nothing, because what exactly was there to do? Nothing. Lev would leave soon, leave Destiny City, leave Seth, and that was that. He wasn’t going to think about that, because this was not a night for thinking. It was a night to let go.
He did not go over. Instead, Seth started moving again, leaning back lightly against his dancing partner, a tall, broad shouldered man with dark hair and eyes. Seth himself was dressed in a pair of black jeans and a tight, sleeveless black turtleneck sweater that showed the heavy black tattoos that snaked up his arms, as thick and dark as an ocean across his skin. The tattoos disappeared under the neck of his shirt.
His gaze rose, lifted to look at Lev, across the dance floor.
-----------------------------------------------------
Sometimes Lev enjoyed being tall. It meant that he could see over crowds and that people couldn’t get up in his face about things as easily as if he’d been shorter. He liked the feeling of towering over someone, because it gave him some semblance of control over what he was doing and the interactions he had.
Other times, he hated it. Because he could see over crowds and he was easily spotted. It was also awkward when people tried being more intimate or touchy with him, because the woman with her arm around his neck now was barely up to his shoulder and it was a little awkward without having to lean down for her.
Seth was almost his height. They’d always been pretty similar, except it wasn’t until the last handful of years that Lev finally started growing a bit taller than Seth. Seth had always been taller as a child, and Lev wished the circumstances were different so he could actually enjoy the fact that he had about an inch on his would-be-husband.
He didn’t want to think about Seth, the name still enough to leave a bitter taste in Lev’s mouth, poisoning his thoughts. Seth wanted to leave, to escape from him so badly that he’d changed his name. Lev supposed it had been a smart move since he obviously didn’t want to be found, but his extravagant lifestyle had drawn enough attention that of course someone would notice.
Lev wasn’t a poor servant any more. He wasn’t as outrageously wealthy as the Volkovs, but he was doing well for himself. Enough to be able to hire someone to try and locate where his husband had gone. Naturally, Destiny City wasn’t even on the charts for a place to look until Lev had a job to do there.
He hated it. He hated knowing, now that he knew. He hated the way Seth looked at him, his eyes wide and startled when Lev had asked him to talk, just as much as he hated that horrible, crazy laugh of his, like an animal backed into a corner.
There was a part of Lev that wondered if that was how Seth always felt; an animal backed into a corner, being forced to carefully plan every move he made because if he didn’t…
He was thinking too much about Seth. So much that he could swear that he saw someone who looked just like him across the dance floor. But that wasn’t possible, was it?
Lev felt his heart stutter to a stop as his eyes met Seth’s. Only for a moment. Then his heart started beating once more in his chest and he looked away, his hands purposefully placed on the woman’s hips in front of him, pulling her closer which she was clearly thrilled about, shooting mischievous glances over to her friends who were being giggly and very much intoxicated.
As for Lev, he hadn’t had much to drink. One glass of whiskey was enough to put his blood on fire, but otherwise he didn’t like the complete loss of control that came with being drunk, so he avoided that as best he could these days.
He would just ignore Seth. Or purposefully show that he was having a good time. Of course Seth would be with another man, a thought that also had Lev’s blood boiling. Because why hadn’t he been good enough? What was wrong with him that after eighteen years, Seth decided it wasn’t worth being with him in any sense of the word?
He had to ignore him.
He couldn’t think about it.
Seth was just trying to get under his skin, into his head. He would never move on if he kept thinking about him.
-----------------------------------------------------
If he’d been a little more sober, he might have been a little more aware of himself, more aware that he needed to run, to get out, to leave before things kept getting worse. He might have the presence of mind to walk away from this club instead of staying in the same place where Lev was, across the dance floor, with a woman in front of him, his hands on her hips.
Seth had never felt those hands on his own hips, not in that way, not in the way he’d wanted.
He needed to get out of here.
But the alcohol was buzzing through his system, and he felt like he had on that rooftop again, burning on the edge of control, losing his ability to handle the situation, to take charge of it. Everything was slipping away from him, too much, too fast; he felt outside of his own skin, trapped in a cage that surrounded him on all sides, and everywhere he looked, there was Lev. His blond hair, artfully tousled, so that a few strands slid over those blue, blue eyes, that for a split second, looked nowhere else but at him, sending a wave of adrenaline pulsing through Seth.
This was a mistake. He needed to leave, needed to not think about the way that Lev had pulled the woman closer to him, needed to ignore the longing that rose deep in Seth’s chest, so powerful it almost hurt.
He couldn’t make his mind focus. The man behind him eased closer, half out of a need because of how many people there were already on the dance floor, and half just because he wanted to. Seth’s head fell back against his broad shoulder, lashes fluttering, falling half lidded, and for a few seconds, it was utter bliss just to let himself go, to focus entirely on this and nothing else. One of his arms rose, fell behind him, wrapping lazily around the man’s neck; an arm slid around Seth’s waist, and Seth rested his free arm atop it, swaying in time to the music.
He could just close his eyes and pretend that this was all there was. He could lose himself in the pleasant feel of heat at his back, the pounding of the music pulsing in his thoughts. His fingers slid along the back of the man’s neck, a brief touch that had his partner murmuring something encouraging in his ear, the grip around his waist tightening, just a fraction.
Seth’s eyes opened, half-lidded, and instinctively, automatically, like a magnet that was pulling him forward, found Lev across the room, lips slightly parted.
Everything hurt.
-----------------------------------------------------
Of all the clubs, they had to go to the same one. And neither of them seemed very intent on leaving right away. They were both absorbed in the music, in the heat and feel and flashing lights and press of bodies. But Lev could see Seth from across the dance floor, his dark hair cascading over the other man’s shoulder as he leaned his head back, and the way his tattoos seemed to make him blend into the darkness as he lifted an arm to wrap around the man’s neck.
The way he looked at him, lips parted, seeming dazed and not at all completely sober. It should have been him Seth was dancing with, not some stranger. His heart ached and he pulled his eyes away before he got too caught up with everything.
He had to ignore him.
The woman he was dancing with wanted his attention anyway. He apparently wasn’t giving her enough because she had slid her hand around his neck, brushing her fingers through his hair, her other arm wrapped around his waist. She was pretty enough. She had bleach blonde hair that fell over her shoulders, and wore a dress that he was surprised covered anything at all. He could just focus on her, and that would be fine.
Seth seemed to be enjoying himself anyway, and as much as it hurt to know that he was dancing with another man, it wasn’t as though Seth was at all uncomfortable with it. He obviously wanted to dance with him since he had his hands all over him.
That was fine. Lev would just ignore them, blue eyes focusing on the woman in front of him instead.
-----------------------------------------------------
The music was so loud, almost deafening. Seth could feel it pulsing, could feel it - and the alcohol - sliding thickly through his veins. The man’s arm was tight around his waist, securely holding him in place, and now there was no space at all between them, Seth’s back against his chest, thigh against thigh. He was an attractive, engaging man; easy to move with, easy to dance with.
Seth’s attention wasn’t on him at all.
Instead, it was across the room, focused solely on Lev, on that sharp jawed, rugged face above the bleached blond head of the woman he was with. No matter how often Seth looked the other direction, no matter how many times he tried to look a different way, his eyes kept moving back to Lev, because it was impossible not to look at him, to think of him, to wish, more than anything, that it was Lev with him.
If he closed his eyes he could pretend. He could imagine that the arm around his waist was Lev’s arm, that the lips against his ear were Lev’s lips, that the body pressed tightly behind him and against him was Lev’s, safe and warm and protected and adored in a way he never had been in his life. And he did close them, for just a minute; a self indulgent moment to pretend that it was Lev, that he was with the man he actually wanted to be with.
The man behind him shifted, voice murmuring something in his ear, and the spell shattered around him.
Seth’s eyes opened again, fixing at Lev, an unconscious and instinctive thing. Still half-lidded, still caught in the throes of alcohol and imagination, he licked his lips, and heard another murmur against his ear.
The arm around his waist pulled tighter, and suddenly Seth was all too aware that it wasn’t Lev.
It was never going to be Lev. Lev wasn’t looking at him, was focused on the woman in front of him, was clearly over him in a way that Seth could never be, not anymore. He took an automatic step forward - tried to, at least, and felt himself jerked back again, a second arm coming up around his waist to hold him there.
“Where y’goin, baby?”
It was rasped out against his ear. Seth’s own arm slid away from his neck and down, resting hands on top of the ones around his waist to try and pry himself free.
“Bathroom,” he mumbled, but found himself dragged back again, teeth grazing.
“Not yet. Let’s dance some more.”
“I need to go.” He was getting annoyed. Normally an interested partner and a willing one was something Seth would have gone along - quite happily - with, but not here, and not now. Not when Lev was across from him, not when he couldn’t seem to get his own thoughts under control.
“Stay.” The man’s hands were starting to wander, one rising up to his chest. Seth pushed against them, feeling dizzy.
“Let me go.”
“Not yet.” More teeth, hot breath, smelling of beer.
”Now.”
“No.”
He felt the neckline of his shirt tugged a little, and then teeth against his neck, Seth flinching instinctively, the annoyance turning to anger now as he tried to drag himself free, to no avail.
“Let go.”
-----------------------------------------------------
Just a few more days and he would be free of this. He would never have to see Seth again, and he would force himself to move on with his life. Maybe move to California or Hawaii. That would be as far as he could get while staying in the States, probably. Especially if Seth has made a home for himself in Destiny City.
Just a few more days. He could last that long. He didn’t need to talk to Seth or look at him or do anything about him being there. He could focus on this nameless woman and her friends and have a good time. Just like Seth was having a good time with the man he was dancing with across the room.
A man who was pulling him closer against him, hands sliding over his body. Because as much as Lev tried not to look, he couldn’t help it. He couldn’t help the way his attention kept getting drawn to Seth and the lean lines of his body and dark hair and clothes and tattoos down his arms.
And he couldn’t help but notice the distress that seemed to overtake his expression, shifting from hazy to anger, the way he was pushing at the man, and how the man wasn’t letting go.
He should just leave him alone. Seth was a grown man, able to handle himself. He’d been on his own for two years, just as Lev had been on his own. Seth clearly didn’t care about anyone but himself, so why should Lev care if he was having a difficult time with one of his dance partners?
Why should he care that someone was upsetting him when Lev had obviously not cared about upsetting him, himself?
He should just leave him alone. He knew this. And yet his feet were moving on their own. He ignored the disappointed words of his dance partner, leaving her where she was to push himself through the crowd, and before he realized what he was doing, he was bodily dragging the man away from Seth, his hand at the back of his neck, and his other hand wrapped around the front of his shirt.
“Back off,” Lev snarled, shoving the man back, hard. He wedged himself between him and Seth, although his back was to his husband, not wanting to look at him, but not wanting him to deal with a piece of scum he obviously didn’t want touching him.
-----------------------------------------------------
He did not want this.
He was suddenly acutely aware that this man behind him was not Lev, and he’d known it before, he’d tried to ignore it and had failed, because it wasn’t Lev, Lev was across the room with some blond and he didn’t care about Seth anymore and never would, and everything was completely and utterly ruined.
He wanted to go home. He wanted to get out of here, to run, as he always did, but the man wasn’t letting go, and Seth was struggling now, ignored by the giddily intoxicated people around him, even as Seth tried to drive his elbow into the man’s stomach and missed.
“You ********’ tease - “
The man’s hands were on him, yanking him back with enough force that his head snapped back, Seth letting out a snarl of anger. Fingers rose and tangled in his hair, dragging him hard, and stars exploded in his line of vision, even as he was dimly aware that the man’s other hand was still roaming, clenching in the front of his shirt.
“You - “
And then he was gone. Seth staggered forward, the abrupt loss of the hands holding him making him lose his balance. He let out a line of filthy Russian swears, almost spitting with fury and whirled around, fully intending to drive his knee into the man’s stomach, or maybe between his legs.
Lev was there.
Lev had pulled him off, had pushed him away, standing there with a look of fury on his face - and for once it wasn’t directed at Seth’, who’s scalp still stung from the pulling of his hair. Lev was, impossibly, there, and he was trying to help.
It seemed ludicrous. Seth couldn’t wrap his mind around it, and then he had to, because the man was twisting in Lev’s grasp, drunk and furious, spinning to throw a punch at Lev and missing completely as he staggered off balance. The punch hit someone else’s shoulder, who stumbled forward, spilling the contents of their drink down their front with a surprised ”Hey!” of outrage.
Seth reached out, grabbed the front of the man’s shirt and promptly punched him in the face.
”Я сказал, не трогай меня мудак,” he spat - and then found a hand in his hair again, as the girl who had had her drink spilled mistakenly thought it was him, her fingers tangling as she yanked him back.
-----------------------------------------------------
For those few short minutes, it was as though the last two years never existed. At least for Lev. Anyone who dared touch Nikolai in a way that he didn’t like, or did something to cause him undue stress ended up having to deal with Lev’s ferocity.
But getting into fights as a kid was one thing. To have someone touch Seth in a way that he was fighting to get them off was another.
Lev had stepped aside when the punch from the man he’d ripped away from Seth flew his way, and was about to shove him aside once more when Seth stepped forward to punch him. Which was fine by Lev. The guy deserved it. But the fight was taking a turn for the worse because the woman with the spilt drink was yanking on Seth’s hair, and Lev was reaching out to try and stop her, and the guy who’s been sent careening to the ground after Seth had punched him found the glass that the woman had dropped and made to swing the jagged edges at Seth -
Without even thinking, Lev grabbed onto Seth’s shirt and yanked him out of the way, taking the splintering glass to his own forearm, and followed through with another punch to the man’s face, sending him back down to the ground.
By now the noise level had risen significantly, chants of fight, fight echoing over top of the music. And that was bad, because that meant the police might end up being involved, and no one seemed to want to risk holding Lev back from attacking someone else. Not that he would hit someone who didn’t deserve it. At least not on purpose.
“Do not touch him,” Lev barked at the woman who’d been yanking on Seth’s hair, forcefully placing himself between her and Seth as he had with the other man. He was beyond angry at that point. Beyond pain and almost beyond comprehension of what was going to happen if they didn’t leave at that moment.
But Seth had been in trouble, and his body was acting on its own.
-----------------------------------------------------
He managed, somehow, to yank his head away from the girl’s snatching fingers, though he was relatively sure he’d lost a few hairs in the process. Seth was aware of Lev beside him as he staggered back, swearing loudly, and really, as experienced as he was in fighting, punching someone was not something done without pain, his knuckles screaming; he’d landed the hit wrong as it was. He was relatively sure that nothing was broken, but it hurt like hell, and Seth swore again, inventively, in Russian.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw something flash - a piece of glass -
-and then something was yanking him back - someone was yanking him back, and Seth stumbled slightly, eyes wide, and there was blood on Lev’s arm, scarlet starting to seep from a jagged cut scraped along his forearm.
“Lev - “
He barely managed to get the word out. Seth’s dancing partner was yelling now, clutching his nose, which was also bleeding freely; Seth had heard the crunch of bone splintering as Lev’s fist impacted with his face. Shouts were echoing around them, chants and jeers, and the girl who had grabbed his hair was spitting insults, her eyes wild.
Do not touch him.
Something in Seth’s heart constricted, twisted painfully, but he had no time to react to this, either, or to the fire he could see dancing in Lev’s eyes. The girl was lunging, someone else was snatching at her, Seth was trying to get around Lev in order to stop her from touching him -
“Break it up! him -[i]Break it the ******** up!”[//i]
Someone grabbed at Seth from behind, forcing his arms behind his back. He was aware that someone else was grabbing for Lev, hands gripping his wrists, and he struggled fruitlessly to get free as he was dragged forcefully back, then slammed against a table, bent halfway over.
“Stop struggling, kid, it’ll be easier.”
A voice from above him - a security guard from the club, or maybe the police, it was hard to tell at this point. There were shouts and screams; the music wavered, then cut off entirely. Seth went deliberately still, closing his eyes, though every part of him was desperate to get to Lev, to see if he was all right, to get out of here and talk -
“Good. Calm down. Everything’s all right.”
-----------------------------------------------------
”Отпусти его!” Lev growled as his arms were pulled behind him and he struggled to get free. “Let him go! He had nothing to do vith this! It vas just me!” he shouted, watching as Seth was pulled back and forced against a table, Lev’s heart beating hard against his chest, his eyes still wild as he watched Seth being poorly handled.
They shouldn’t touch him. How dare they try to treat Seth like he was at fault for any of this?
“Confessing already? That’ll make things easier,” the man said as he jerked Lev back, apparently not at all put off by him trying to struggle away, although another security guard or cop came over to help hold him in place, pushing at his back to lead him towards the club entrance.
Lev’s head was spinning, and he kept trying to glance back over to where they’d been holding Seth, wanting to make sure he was okay, that he hadn’t been hurt. He couldn’t hear the rest of what was being said to him. Orders to move? To hold still? That he was being arrested for getting into a fight there? It seemed as though the guy who had assaulted Seth was being pulled up with his hands behind his back too, and the woman who had her drink spilled and went for Seth’s hair was nowhere to be found, probably having run off, slipping into the crowd before anyone noticed.
Why hadn’t Seth run? He should have removed himself from the situation the second he had the chance. He should have let Lev take care of the man, to be the only one held down and dragged out of the club.
He knew what this meant. If he was being arrested it meant that he would have to hope that his bail won’t be too expensive because he couldn’t miss his other photoshoot, but that probably meant he wouldn’t be going back home after this, especially if charges were being pressed.
Why he couldn’t have just let Seth handle things on his own, he didn’t know. Seth was perfectly capable. He’d been doing everything on his own for two years. He was probably pissed that Lev even bothered stepping in.
-----------------------------------------------------
One police car ride, several interrogations, two cups of water, and three and a half hours later, Seth was, unfortunately sober again.
He needed a cigarette.
He needed Lev.
Don’t touch him.
Let him go.
He could still hear Lev’s voice inside of his head, could still hear the snarling fury that had been directed at the people holding Seth. It seemed impossible that Lev had been defending him, trying to protect him, and yet…
And yet he had. And he’d been attacked for it by a lecherous clubgoer.
Seth’s bruised knuckles were slightly bloody, although he’d washed his hands since then. His bad one had been wrapped, courtesy of a police officer on duty, though his hand still throbbed with every movement, a consistent reminder. He wasn’t in a jail cell, or really, under arrest, or even in police custody. Seth had been dragged in with the rest of them for questioning, but had let him go after they’d decided he was innocent.
A laughable word. Lev was, apparently, in a holding cell. Seth could go home, if he wanted, said the nice police officer who had wrapped his hand. He could leave and relax, they’d take care of the “more rambunctious ones,” no worries, everything would be fine.
Except it wouldn’t.
Seth tried not to think too hard about everything that had happened, but it was impossible. He’d been awake for too long; his mind kept twisting things to suit his own desperate desires, and none of them made any sense at all if he thought too long and hard about it.
He couldn’t leave. Not this time.
The door to Lev’s holding cell slid open at approximately six forty-two in the morning.
“Mr. Sokolovsky, you’re free to go,” said the guard, sounding monotonous .”Come on, up and at ‘em.”
-----------------------------------------------------
Everything went by in a daze. His adrenaline was pumping too quickly through him to calm down. He needed to move. He felt too restless. And exhausted. And angry. And frustrated with himself because what the hell had he been thinking? As much as he hated Seth for what he did, he still couldn’t just let him get hurt, physically or not. At least not by someone other than himself, clearly.
The night had passed by impossibly slow. The holding cell was uncomfortable, and the cot was much too small for a man of his height. It was hot, too. Too hot. He couldn’t really sleep, so he stared up at the ceiling as he waited for whatever would happen next.
For all he knew, the last image he would ever see of Seth would be of him held down over a table by a security guard.
What happened next wasn’t something he’d expected.
He shifted where he was on the cot, his white shirt with specks of blood from the fight, both his own and the other man’s. His fist was sore from punching the man, and his arm had a few butterfly bandages thrown on and then wrapped.
He could go? How that was possible, he had no idea. He hadn’t even called his agent to let him know he needed to be bailed out. And he sure as hell hadn’t told Misha that he’d been thrown in jail for the night.
Not that he wasn’t grateful, he was just.. Confused. He stood slowly, staggering a little from not being in a very comfortable position for hours, and made his way out of the cell before the guard changed his mind or something drastic like that.
Lev turned the corner to the front office to collect his wallet and cigarettes and lighter, and froze completely.
Seth, of all people, was standing in the lobby. Looking tired and worn and stressed out and -
What was he doing there still? He should have been allowed to go home hours ago. Maybe he was there to press charges on someone? The man who’d attacked him? Maybe even on Lev for grabbing him?
“Доброе утро,” he greeted quietly, cautiously, feeling as though he had every reason to be on edge.
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Posted: Fri Nov 24, 2017 2:10 pm
Lev looked exhausted; and considering that he’d spent the night in a holding cell, likely trying to sleep on a crappy little cot, it was no wonder. The dark circles beneath those blue eyes of his indicated a severe lack of sleep, and the bandages on his arm were haphazard and hastily done; Seth’s gaze instinctively dropped to them.
You got those for me.
You got hurt because of me.
He couldn’t say that. Seth was still in the same clothes he’d been in the night before, though they were more disheveled than they usually were after a night spent trying to convince them to allow him to post bail and then lounging in one of the lobby chairs while he waited for everything to be processed.
His back was sore, along with the rest of him. He felt drained and weary, his chest aching like he’d run a mile, but Lev wasn’t looking at him with either the cold fury of earlier or the disgusted hatred of their first night reuniting. Seth supposed this was progress; he was too tired to deal with the negativity right now.
He needed a bed. And sleep. And possibly a whole gallon of alcohol.
”Доброе утро,” said Seth, voice low, almost a murmur, after a long moment had passed of complete silence. He gave an absent minded nod to the front desk receptionist, then lifted his chin, regarding Lev through quiet eyes.
“Come on,” he said finally, and turned.
“I haff car outside.”----------------------------------------------------- It was almost impossible to think that Seth had stayed there all night, and probably sleeping in worse conditions than Lev. Had he really stayed? Why? Why would he have bothered when he could have gone home? Unless they only let him go as well?
There were a million things he wanted to ask, because it didn’t make sense for Seth to be there, but he did as he was told, too tired to be anything but obedient. He collected what was his, and then followed, staring at Seth’s back as he went, looking at how disheveled he was.
“Did they not let you go until now?” he finally couldn’t hold himself back from asking, feeling irritation well up.
Were you hurt? Are you okay?
“Vhy are you here?” he pressed, having a sudden feeling that he was only being let out because of something Seth did. Seth was there because he’d waited for Lev to be let go. And now Seth was going to have him driven back to his hotel or something as thanks, and maybe hand him the papers for their divorce, and then be done with everything.
So much about Seth was the same, and so much as different. The dark tattoos on his skin looked like they were finally completed. He’d only just started getting them when they were married, so seeing the dark black on Seth’s skin was a strange mix of emotion.
One, because he was finally able to finish something he’d wanted, and Lev was proud of him for that. But on the other hand, it reminded him once more that Seth had left him. That he’d continued on with his life like Lev was never a part of it. ----------------------------------------------------- He was suddenly so unbelievably tired of all this.
He was tired of being hated, tired of being looked at like he was something on the bottom of Lev’s shoe. Tired of trying to pretend he didn’t care, tired of trying to pretend that he didn’t regret, more than anything, running away two years ago and leaving Lev behind.
Tired of being so overwhelmingly in love with Lev that it ached, so in love that he could hardly stand it no matter how many times he tried desperately to both deny this and ignore this very obvious and blatant fact. Tired of being married to a man who never wanted to see him again, whom he’d married just to piss off his father, whom he was still married to, in spite of having messed around these last two years with likely more people than he could count.
There was nothing he could do. Maybe once upon a time, but no more.
“No, they let me go,” said Seth without turning around, pushing open the door to go outside, the morning sun just barely peeking up over the horizon. It was a grayish day, streaks of orange and red and yellow beginning to cross over the police station parking lot.
The second question went deliberately unanswered.
Parked near the back, deliberately, was a sleek, black - and extremely expensive looking - Aston Martin. Seth hit a button on his key fob and the car clicked unlocked; he didn’t wait for Lev to question anything. If he didn’t want to get in, then he wouldn’t get in, Seth sliding into the leather seat and shutting the door behind him, exhaling a long, painful breath.
He just had to get through this. That was all. Then he could move on.----------------------------------------------------- As much as he wanted it, Lev knew that nothing would ever be like it used to. He would never have that possibly too naive friendship with Seth, and never be able to fully trust him to always be there, and never be able to spend long hours just lazing around, maybe talking about mundane things, or even about what they thought of their futures. Together. Things changed too quickly, as was evident in how Lev and Seth’s lives had broken into two separate entities, rather than their lives being joined together as they always had been.
Lev followed Seth, although he kept a wary distance from the other young man, as giving him the opportunity to change his mind and run. Maybe he would get into his car and drive off without him. Should Lev even bother getting in after him? It was clearly a very expensive vehicle. Would his father be okay with someone of lower class getting into his son’s car with him?
But despite his doubts, and despite how his heart was pounding uncomfortably fast in his chest, Lev reached out and tugged on the handle, half expecting it to be locked. But it opened, and Lev eased himself inside, grateful for the extra legroom the vehicle offered.
Was he really doing this? Was he going to be in a confined space with Seth? This was as private as they’d ever been since they’d crossed paths not too long ago. Would Seth regret it and tell Lev to get out?
“Them letting me out. Vas it your doing?” he asked, his voice quiet, hesitant, although a little gruff from just waking up and not having slept very well. “Vhy?” ----------------------------------------------------- The car felt oppressively silent, claustrophobic with how small it was inside and the fact that Lev seemed to take up most of the space and most of the air. It was roomy enough for both of their tall frames, and there was no backseat, really, to be heard of, unless someone wanted to crunch themselves in half trying to get to it; but Lev’s presence was a magnetic, enormous thing beside him in the expensive leather seat.
Seth pulled out of the parking lot and onto the main road, maneuvering the car with ease, in spite of his lack of sleep. It was one he was used to driving, one he had spent many nights racing up and down the streets of Destiny City; it felt strange to not be racing it now, even though a part of him wanted to slam his foot on the gas pedal and rocket forward as fast as he could.
He didn’t want to answer Lev’s question. Seth pulled down a side street, then another, fingers gripping the steering wheel.
“Yes,” he said, after a long, tense moment. His eyes were fixed on the windshield, on the road in front of him. He felt, still, a little fuzzy headed from a combination of bad alcohol and exhaustion.
“Vhy not?” Seth said, and his tone was not quite light, but not sarcastic either, lying somewhere in between. “You cannot say that you vould vant to spend more time there.”
Another road. Another turn.----------------------------------------------------- Lev kept his eyes mostly to himself, turning to watch the scenery flash by as Seth drove down one road and then another. He didn’t need to look at Seth to know that he felt tense and uneasy. He could hear it in his voice, the almost sarcasm coming out too forced to be completely casual.
It was funny, in a not so humorous way, that Lev could still pick up on little bits of Seth’s mannerisms and how he behaved, even though it had been two years, and Seth’s leaving made Lev feel as though he never knew the other in the first place.
“No, I suppose not,” he grunted as he watched out the window, lifting the back of his hand to his mouth to stifle a yawn that escaped. He was exhausted, but he was sure Seth was, too. He didn’t want to get into another fight with him. He just wanted to get through whatever it was Seth wanted from him and then go back to his hotel.
This was definitely not the way to the hotel.
“I just do not see what was in it for you. Do you plan to request favor from me? There has to be something you vere planning,” he pointed out, glancing towards Seth out of the corner of his eye. ----------------------------------------------------- There was no one, still, that knew him better than Lev did. No one who could read him better, and in two years, that had not changed. Lev had changed, and maybe Seth had too, but it didn’t change the fact that he did not have anyone in his life that knew him as well as Lev had once.
Maybe he was just deluding himself. Maybe Lev didn’t know him anymore.
He didn’t have to look sideways to hear the stifled yawn, or see it out of his peripheral vision. Seth turned the wheel of the car down another street, and now they were in a clearly wealthy neighborhood, the houses more spaced out, wide expanses of lush green grass in between each one. It didn’t look quite like where Seth had once lived, but it spoke obviously of good money nonetheless.
There has to be something you were planning. The insinuation made his blood boil unnecessarily, irrationally, because Lev had every right to be suspicious of his antics, to be concerned and confused and annoyed at everything he did. He had a right to be furious, to hate Seth after what he had done, and yet it still made his fingers clench on the steering wheel.
He suddenly needed out of this car, desperate to be out of this confining, intimate space that was driving him crazy, because it was too close and yet not close enough. Seth’s foot jammed on the gas, and the car jerked forward abruptly, spinning violently, the back tires cartwheeling out into a screeching drift as he fishtailed. He hit the gas again and propelled the car into the long driveway of his mansion, the adrenaline sliding up through his veins like liquid heat.
There was a garage, but the front driveway made an arch that would allow someone to go right back to the road if they kept going, the apex right at the front door. Seth careened to a stop there, spitting gravel, and yanked the keys out, all but throwing himself out of the car.
“That is right,” he snapped, chest rising and falling heavily, sucking in lungfuls of air that hurt. “I forgot, I do not do anything without demanding something in return. Forgive me.”
The sarcasm was biting. Seth stalked towards his front door, fumbling with the keys until he found the right one, shoving it open and not bothering to shut it behind him.----------------------------------------------------- While Lev’s hand gripped tighter onto the hand hold in the door where he’d been casually resting his arm against, and some initial tensing at the way Seth fishtailed the car around, he didn’t have much more of a reaction. At least not outwardly. He was aware enough to know that something he’d said put an edge on everything, obviously stabbing into Seth in a way that made him want to prove that he had control, thus the antics with the car.
Or maybe Lev was so far off on what Seth was actually thinking and feeling that it was laughable.
The car came to a stop, and Seth was out of it before the engine even had time to completely shut off it seemed. Lev’s exit from the vehicle was not as explosive, but there was a certain amount of irritation he felt at Seth’s words.
“Vhy, then??” Lev barked, shutting the door behind him none too softly once he was actually able to pull himself up to his full height. “Vhy did you help me? Vhy not just let me rot there like you did before? Are you trying to make amends to ease your guilt? You think getting me out vill make up for vhat you did?”
There was a part of Lev that told him he needed to calm down, that he was getting worked up over nothing. Maybe the favor that Seth was asking for was him to come and pick up the divorce papers from his mansion. That would actually be great. It would solve the issue of Lev ever wondering if Seth would follow through with giving him the papers, or making him suffer in wait.
He pushed his way through the front door and slammed it so hard that the walls shook, paintings and mirrors and fancy wall decorations rattling with the force. He tried not to look too closely at everything in the house because it would just piss Lev off more. Two years and Seth was able to accumulate so many material items to make him happy in a way that Lev obviously never could.
“Vhy have you brought me here? To show off? If you have papers, I vill take them and now and leave,” he said before he could think better of it. Just get it over with. Don’t let this last longer than it has to. Get out and never look back. It was too painful. ----------------------------------------------------- The mansion had always been his place of solace, the place where he went back to in order to relax. He had never brought bed partners here, not once in the last year or so of living here, give or take a month or two. Everything in it was outrageously expensive, unnecessarily dramatic, from the glossy tile floor, to the crystal chandelier hanging in the front foyer. A grand double staircase wound up on both sides, curling up and around and leading to a dark blue carpeted second floor, the banisters all a shining dark wood with black posts.
He’d picked those posts. And the carpeting.
Seth wanted to rip it out now with his bare hands.
His keys were thrown unceremoniously onto the side table, Seth stalking forward past the front entryway into a small hallway that led into an expansive, impressively sized kitchen, all stainless steel cookware and pristine cutlery. He resisted the urge to snatch a knife up from the knife block, and instead wrenched open the enormous refrigerator.
”Nyet,” he snarled back, with more force than necessary, and he couldn’t calm himself, his hands shaking a little as he reached in and grabbed the nearest bottle of alcohol he could find, some sort of vodka. “If you vant to think that badly of me, then go ahead, I von’t stop you, you already do, anyway.”
He was now snapping open cupboards with more force than was necessary. A harsh bark of laughter was pulled from his throat, and that hurt too, because of course Lev would see it that way. Of course, Lev would see it as some sort of ploy, some sort of game, that Seth was just trying to brag about how his life was now without Lev in it.
Everything about this made him want to scream, but he couldn’t do that, Seth jerking open another cupboard that finally had what he wanted in it.
“I did not bring you here to show off, Мудак,” he said, hearing the bitterness in his own voice as he fumbled with a stack of tumbler glasses, trying to get them out of the cabinet. “You are not here because I was trying to show off, you - “
The tumblers fell from his shaking hands onto the counter, where they cracked, slid off, and shattered on the floor. Seth let out a stream of filthy Russian swears, ignoring the shooting pain that stemmed from trying to catch them, a shard of glass slicing his finger open.
He’d missed answering half of the rest of Lev’s questions. Seth gave up on the tumblers and tried to twist off the lid to the bottle of vodka with his bloodied hand instead.----------------------------------------------------- Lev stormed after him into the mansion, bristling with anger and bitterness and a horrible heaviness in his heart that seemed to want to suffocate him. This wasn’t how things were supposed to be. He and Seth fought plenty of times over countless things, but never with this amount of heaviness in the air. Not with the feeling of hate and regret and so many other things circling around them.
“How else am I supposed to think of you?” he shouted back, watching as Seth moved about the enormous kitchen, the kitchen they were supposed to have for themselves one day, without the help of Seth’s family and their money. They were supposed to build their life together from the ground up, but clearly Seth couldn’t live without the extravagance. Lev should have known better that it was only a matter of time before Seth couldn’t handle living in near poverty while they got onto their feet.
He didn’t have a chance to respond to Seth saying he wasn’t there because he wanted to show off, instead watching as he fumbled with some glasses, the shards hitting the floor along with drops of blood.
Seth was cursing from being cut, and then was trying to open the vodka bottle, smearing blood all over it as he ignored his injury, and Lev had half a mind to stand back and watch it happen.
Just as he’d had half a mind to stand back and let Seth handle himself when the other man was touching him in a way he obviously didn’t want.
Lev reached out to grab hold of the bottle before Seth dropped that too, and with his other hand took hold of Seth’s wrist, twisting the bottle out of his grasp so he could place it on the counter. He didn’t look at him as he did it, just enough so he could see what he was doing, but he didn’t look at Seth’s face as he bodily dragged him over to the sink to turn it on and shove his bloody hand under the cold water. ----------------------------------------------------- It wasn’t even seven in the morning yet, or just barely seven, and he desperately wanted the vodka, wanted the numbness that came from being too drunk, wanted the blissful silence from his own head, from Lev’s all too familiar voice, snarling at him, yelling at him. The mansion was far enough away from its neighbors that a little shouting wouldn’t be noticed, but it was making Seth’s already throbbing head give another painful stabbing sensation.
He couldn’t get the damn lid off. His bloodied hand slid over the cap uselessly, Seth making an angry sound in the back of his throat, and he could hear the rasping sound of his own voice, could feel the rapid beating of his heart.
Those ******** divorce papers. He would have to get those, too, and he would have to sign the damn things, and then he’d really be Seth Volkov, no longer Nikolai Sokolovsky, no longer married to Lev, and that was right, wasn’t it? That was what he wanted, what they both wanted, because nothing would ever be the same again, he’d ******** things up too much, had burned too many bridges.
A hand shot out, snatching the bottle from his shaking fingers. Seth’s head snapped up, anger written across his face, and then Lev was dragging him over to the sink, fingers against his wrist, and he couldn’t think past the feel of them, a shock of touch that had his nerves fraying at the edges, adrenaline bursting through him. His pulse skyrocketed at the nearness, at even just this small, simple thing, even as the water sprayed over his hand.
The coldness was also a shock, knocking him out of his stunned reverie. Seth’s brain collided back into place, and he yanked at his wrist, trying to free himself.
“Stop - “ he ground out, and he could hear the crunch of broken glass beneath his boots as he struggled. ”стоп, let me go, I do not need your help - “
I need you I need you I need you -
He was so angry.----------------------------------------------------- It took longer than Lev was expecting for Seth to respond, and when he did, he was prepared. He kept his hand tight around Seth’s wrist, but then switched his own hands so he could shift into place behind Seth, his free arm wrapping tight around Seth’s waist, pinning his other arm to his side, keeping his injured hand under the cold running water.
“Then stop behaving like child,” Lev growled back, trying to remind himself why he was doing this. What had possessed him into reaching out and taking hold of Seth like this? Seth was livid already. It was like sticking his hand into the cage of an angry, cornered panther. And that was probably why he was hanging onto Seth too tightly, because he didn’t particularly want his eyes gouged out the moment he released him.
He was none too gentle either as he pressed his thumb against the cut on Seth’s finger, wanting to make sure the wound was free of any pieces of glass that had broken off as he was cut, watching as new blood stained the water that flowed over their hands, Lev pinning Seth against the counter.
It was hypocritical of him to not let Seth go when he told him to stop. He’d punched the other guy who did the exact same thing to Seth just the night before. Ended up in jail for the night because of it. The man had deserved it. Lev probably deserved it if Seth turned around to punch him or knee him or bash his head with the vodka bottle once he let him go, too.
And it was so hard not to just lean close, to press his face against Seth’s hair, to breathe him in and tell him everything would be okay.
Because things weren’t okay. Things would never be okay. Lev knew this. Seth knew this. The best thing they could both do was say their goodbyes and never see each other again. It would be better in the long run. ----------------------------------------------------- No.
No no no no no -
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Lev knew how to handle him, even after time had passed. It wasn’t fair that Seth could suddenly feel Lev’s broad chest pressing against his back, that he suddenly had an arm around his waist, holding him deliberately steady, trapping him where he stood. It wasn’t fair that in spite of the anger in Lev’s actions, the furious frustration, he was still trying to help, but his fingers were bruisingly hard on Seth’s wrist, and he was painfully aware of just how hard and how loud his heartbeat was.
”Позволь мне уйти, черт возьми.”
A hiss of pain escaped him as Lev’s thumb pressed down on his finger, a gasp involuntarily pulled from his throat. Seth jerked violently, trying to wrestle himself away, and he could feel himself going back to how he’d been before, could feel the thin hysteria threatening, the hopelessness of this entire situation. The anger was cluttering his throat, choking him, the self loathing, the hatred, the frustration, the fact that Lev was closer to him now than he’d ever been, and yet at the same time, was so very, very far away it was laughable.
He jerked again, the words coming out in a spill of Russian, because he’d stopped trying to think, and he was pushing against Lev, trying to wrench his wrist free. There was more crunching of glass, the heavy unsteadiness of his own breathing that felt claustrophobic.
”Я помог вам, потому что я хотел помочь вам, а не искупить то, что я сделал, теперь позвольте мне уйти ублюдку!”
He was a caged animal, stuck, trapped in this never ending nightmare. Seth fought against it with every inch of himself, his voice rising with every word, spat out in ferocious loathing.
”Вам не нужно помогать мне, я не хочу, чтобы ваша помощь перестала это делать - “----------------------------------------------------- The anger was there, between both of them. The frustration, the pain, the longing that Lev felt in his chest, the never ending questions about what he’d done to make Seth leave, to make him feel like everything was so hopeless that he didn’t even feel as though he could talk to him.
And that, more than anything, more than the two years of everything that had happened, was hitting Lev harder than anything else had.
What happened that made Seth feel so impossibly helpless that he couldn’t even talk about it? Had it been his father? Had it been something Lev did? Was it something else entirely? Lev had a feeling that he might never know.
Seth was practically hissing and spitting in Russian now, giving up on any attempt with English because he was trapped and feeling helpless and Lev could feel the tension in Seth’s shoulders and the brimming hysteria in his voice. He was so desperate that he was answering Lev’s previous questions about why he’d helped him. Because he’d wanted to? It seemed too simple, too easy.
“Будьте спокойны, Коля,” Lev let out a breath before he could think better of it, a phrase he hadn’t uttered in years, but still felt so natural. He couldn’t help it. Right now was so reminiscent to times when they were young, when Seth would do what he wanted without care to any injuries he received. It was usually up to Lev to make sure they were both properly patched up after skinning their knees or getting cuts and bruises from fights.
Будьте спокойны, Коля, Lev would say when Seth refused to sit still to be tended to, when he was still riled up and ready to fight. Even in his frustration and anger, just as he’d been back when they were young, Lev didn’t want Seth hurt. He never had, despite punching him not too long ago. That was never his intention. ----------------------------------------------------- He had never been good at expressing himself - except when it had come to Lev; and even then, he had sometimes never even needed to say anything, because Lev could read him like a book. Sometimes all it had taken was one look, and Lev would know what to do, what to say, how to fix things - or if he couldn’t fix things, he’d know just to put an arm around Seth and let him know he was there.
Their childhood growing up together, their teenage years that had led into their marriage, that had led into Seth making the biggest mistake of his life, all flitted through Seth’s mind now as he struggled, fruitlessly, against Lev’s grasp. He felt confined, trapped in his own skin; he wanted to tear out of it, wanted to shove Lev away and run away and never have to see or feel the way he did again, ever again.
Будьте спокойны, Коля.
He had not heard those words in so long.
They filtered through his mind like nothing else had, like nothing Lev had done so far had. An achingly familiar, quiet tone that sent his heart into overdrive, that made every part of him remember just how it had once been.
And how it would never be again.
Slowly, but surely, Seth’s frantic, desperate struggling eased, and then stopped altogether. He slumped forward in Lev’s grasp, going almost entirely lax, head bowed in front of him so that his hair fell over his face, hiding his expression.
Something bitter and cold, almost a laugh, but not quite, escaped before he could stop it.
”Be calm. I have not been calm in two years, Lev.”----------------------------------------------------- Things would never be the same. Things would never be like it was back when they were children and teenagers. Those years were gone and memories. Ghosts of memories, even. Because sometimes it seemed so surreal that their lives used to be so different than they were now. The fact that Lev had his arm around Seth, holding his hand under the running water in a mansion that Seth had made his home, one that Lev had never stepped into until that day, was proof enough that things were never going to be the same.
Even if they wanted to try and work things out, there wasn’t enough time. Lev had to leave the city, and Seth… he couldn’t imagine Seth uprooting himself to follow him. Not when it was so obvious that in the two years they were apart, Seth was desperately trying to keep control of things, to manage his life.
It would have been easier if he was there to help him, Lev couldn’t help but think as Seth slowly stopped struggling and slumped forward. Now that he didn’t seem like he would attack him, Lev eased up on the bruisingly tight grip on Seth’s wrist, until he let go of it completely. It was only so he could then turn off the water and grab a paper towel from the counter. He wrapped it around Seth’s hand, and he was aware that he hadn’t let go of Seth’s waist just yet.
“I have heard yoga might help,” Lev said softly, his tone humorless but it was obvious he was trying to make a joke. It was too painful. His heart was aching at the thought of Seth struggling, fighting, unable to be calm. Part of him thought that was what Seth deserved; he should have stayed with him. He should have talked to Lev and worked out whatever it was that spooked Seth so badly that he had to run.
But a stronger part could still remember the years they spent growing up together, of helping each other through everything, growing into young men together. His best friend, the one Lev could trust to always be there -
Had vanished without a word.
The anger was still there. The bitterness that everything he’d wanted had been torn away from him still made Lev tense. But after he was sure Seth’s finger was temporarily wrapped in the paper towel, Lev shifted. He gripped onto Seth’s upper arms to turn him around -
And then wrapped his arms tightly around him, pushing Seth’s head down onto his shoulder to hold.
His heart ached, and he knew this wouldn’t last, but even as the anger simmered through him for everything he’d gone through because of Seth, he still couldn’t forget how much he once cared about him. How he still cared for him. Because after everything, he couldn’t forget how his heart had fallen for this dark haired boy he’d grown up with. ----------------------------------------------------- He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that this was it. There were no second chances given; this was not like the movies, or the books, where everyone got what they wanted in the end. This was not some sort of fairy tale where they rode off into the sunset together.
Instead, Seth had ridden off, alone, and left Lev behind. He’d broken all of his promises, shattered the life they had held together, and destroyed the vows that they had spoken, however platonic they might have been, however not romantic their marriage had been intended to be. He felt the awful, sickening truth of it in his stomach, a physical weight that bore down onto him, so that every breath he took felt painful and raw.
He was trapped in this never ending cycle of self loathing and guilt, of an overwhelming desire to pretend that none of this had ever happened, that he had done what he’d thought was right, that he’d left because he had no other choice, but they were all excuses, and he knew it. Flimsy and cold, and he couldn’t give back what he had taken away, what they had lost.
Eighteen years gone, just like that.
Seth gave a hollow sounding laugh that was not humorous at all at the yoga comment. He was so tired, so exhausted. Lev’s hand was moving up his wrist, holding a paper towel to his finger, and the arm around his waist was solidly holding him up in a way that made Seth want to just let go.
Hands were on his upper arms. Seth twisted around as he was tugged, and instinctively he fought against it, a harsh ”Nyet!” escaping involuntarily, because he was sure that Lev was going to punch him, was going to yell at him, and he wasn’t sure he could bear to see that look of hatred and disgust on his face one more time.
Instead, he found himself pulled forward.
Instead, he found himself locked in an embrace, Lev’s arms tight around him, even as Seth struggled automatically, his eyes widening, his heart in his throat as he said, once more, ”Nyet - “
But his hands were shaking. And Lev’s arms were around him, and he was pressed so tightly against him that it was hard to breathe, hard to think, every part of him coming alive, blazing fire through his veins. He’d thought he was never going to feel this again, thought that he would never get to know the warmth of Lev’s arms once more, that he would never get to close his eyes and remember that this was all that he had ever wanted.
The struggling stopped; Lev’s arms were too tight, and Seth lacked both the willpower and the strength to fight back. He took a deep shuddering breath, and then slumped against Lev, one arm raising, and then the other, until he could wrap his arms around Lev’s waist, his face pressed against Lev’s shoulder. Long fingers clutched at his shirt, and then there was nothing at all but Lev.
One more time.
One last time and then that’s the end.
His arms tightened.
I’ll let myself have this one last time.
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