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I can’t afford to be stuck in Kirill’s web with everything that’s resting on my shoulders.
I simply can’t afford to be distracted.
So I nod.
The moment I do, it’s like I’ve removed a spell.
Kirill releases my jaw and lifts his hand off my waist. I can see the closing off of his face as he says, “Very well.”
He rolls to the other side of the bed and gets up in one swift movement. I try to catch a glimpse of his face, but he’s completely sealed himself off as the strict, unapproachable captain.
A knock on the door startles me, then Nadia’s voice follows, “Are you up?”
“Yes, one moment.” I start to stumble out of bed.
“No need to hurry. Just come out for breakfast and your shot whenever you’re ready.”
“Will do, thanks!”
As Nadia’s voice and presence disappear, so has Kirill. He vanished into the en-suite bathroom while I was talking to her.
My feet itch to follow after and try to clear the air, but what’s the point? It’s better this way.
I did the right thing.
At least, I hope so.
After I put on the dress and tights Nadia left on the chair for me, I wash my face in the guest bathroom down the hall. It takes me more time than necessary since I have to stop every now and then due to the pain in my shoulder.
Once I deem myself presentable enough, I go to meet the old couple.
Like last night, Nadia doesn’t allow me to help and, instead, gives me some medication. The shot, too, of course. I nearly cry waiting for the ordeal to be over.
“You’ve improved so fast,” Nicholas comments as he begrudgingly lets me help him in setting the table.
“She’s young and strong,” Nadia replies while bringing some toast.
“I think the will is everything.” He smiles at me as my uncle would. “You definitely have a strong will, young lady. Protect it with everything you have.”
“My father told me to stay alive. Everything else can be fixed as long as I’m alive,” I say and resist the tears that well in my eyes.
“Those are wise words,” Nicholas says.
I wish he’d been wise enough to stay alive.
“Oh, you’re here. Let’s sit down for breakfast.” Nadia ushers Kirill to the seat beside me, and for some reason, I hold my breath for a moment too long.
He’s in black pants and a light blue button-down that molds against his pecs and biceps. And he’s wearing those glasses again that make him look tamer than he actually is.
He thanks Nadia for the food and compliments Nicholas on a chair he made himself.
But he doesn’t look at me or address me. Not even once. He’s subtle about it, too. It’s not that he’s glaring at me or treating me differently.
Maybe I’m imagining things. After all, this is just him being himself. He’s the same Kirill I’ve come to know during the past couple of months.
I may have gotten a glimpse of a change in him during this ordeal, but that might simply be me trying to see a human side of him.
And failing.
