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He presses a glass of water into my hand before crouching in front of me. “Here.”

“I’m fine.” I sigh.

“Don’t hurt yourself like that, solnyshko.” He murmurs, his thumb brushes lightly over my lower lip as he searches my face, those warm brown eyes fixed on mine.

I’m torn between staying in this moment and moving away from him, his proximity turns my thoughts into a tangled, foggy mess.

Logic takes over and I’m forced to push him away. I grab the glass of water from his hands and chug it down all at once.

“Good fucking Lord.” He groans. “Drink it slowly.”

I laugh at how dramatic he is being, but fail to ignore the warm feeling budding low in my stomach, of someone being so riled up about my well-being.

It almost seems like he cares.

He doesn’t care about you.

He’ll discard you once he’s done with you. You’re pathetic.

The voice in my head cuts my wings off before I’m set to fly.

I don’t know the motivation behind his kindness, everyone has an ulterior motive, but for the first time I know what being cared for looks like.

I have no idea, when I started putting my faith in him. I have only seen him from afar, and all we did was exchange meaningless glances every once in a while.

He was different, quiet and composed, a stark contrast to Roman and Aleksandr’s loudness.

I was certainly intrigued by his domineering presence but never thought of him that way, just another man in a world full of them.

I dismissed the way his eyes always found me in a crowded room. I felt nothing, no unease, no instinct to flee.

Which was strange.

Because I’ve always been the kind to run at the slightest hint of being noticed.

Sergei was different.

“Get ready, we’re leaving soon.” He leans ahead and places a gentle kiss on my forehead.

I jerk back on instinct. The back of my head collides with the headboard with a dull thud and his eyes widen.

He pauses for a moment, blinking, staring at me. “D-did you just—” He cuts himself off with an awkward chuckle.

It’s so painful to watch as he takes a step away from me. “Did you just flinch away from me?” His voice is quiet. “Stop kissing me.” I mutter, climbing out of bed. Every muscle in my body protests the movement.

His lips press into a thin line before he gives a curt nod and turns on his heel, leaving me alone in the room.

“Be ready in five.” He says quietly before closing the door behind him.

I stare at the door, unable to comprehend what had just happened, because clearly, I don’t mind his kisses. I wouldn’t mind them if he kissed me on the lips or anywhere really.

But it was too much, from crying in his arms to waking up in them, free of nightmares for the first time in years.

It is too much.

What am I even doing here? Why did I follow him like a fucking fool when I don’t do emotions? I’m not capable of them.

I rush to the bathroom and instantly regret it, a hiss escaping my lips as pain shoots through my body.