Page 102 of The Fire Beneath the Frost

He switched the radio on.A burst of static, then some loud, nasal commentator shouted about a football match.I winced.

“I wish I could find that Kino band’s music,” he said, fiddling with the dial.“You remember?That night at the rock club?”

I closed my eyes for a second.Of course I remembered.That night we were gods.Young and unstoppable, high on music and maybe each other.Until the police snatched us from the sidewalk and tortured us like we were actual criminals.

My stomach twisted.“I want to dance with you,” I whispered.“Find a waltz.”

He kept spinning the dial, and then Shostakovich’s Waltz No.2 spilled from the tiny speakers, scratchy but unmistakable.Utterly perfect, like it was planned.

I held out my hand.“May I have this dance?”

He stepped into my arms without a word.We didn’t so much dance as drift across the scuffed linoleum.Our feet slid more than stepped, our bodies brushing in the smallest ways—his chest against mine, his cheek nearly touching.The music wrapped around us like silk.Or maybe it was a noose around our necks.

Then the thought came.What if Dimitri agreed to go alone?

What if I told him the truth, all of it?If I could finally stop lying, stop hiding, stop pretending this country had space for us?

I bent my head to his ear.“Imagine what it would be like to be free,” I whispered.“To not worry about the police, or the hatred, or all the lies we tell to keep them from smashing in the door.”

He exhaled, slow and soft, against my neck.“I hate telling lies.”Dimitri’s voice cracked.“But if telling them means I can be with you, then I’ll lie.I’ll lie until I forget what the truth sounds like.”

We kept dancing.The waltz spun us in circles.I held him tighter, because I didn’t trust myself not to fall apart.

I loved the feel of him in my arms so much it hurt.And it made me wonder: Could I really do it?Could I let go of this boy, the only thing that felt right in this entire world, just to keep him safe?

I glanced into his eyes and smiled.I even made it look real.But I knew it wasn’t.The fading bruises covering his face said it all.

Dimitri had to go.

The waltz faded into silence like smoke, leaving behind only the echo of our breath and the gentle creak of the floor beneath us.For a moment, we just stood there, swaying in the stillness.Then I cupped the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss so deep I thought I might drown in it.There was a knot in my throat, tight and burning, rising fast like it was going to choke me.I broke the kiss, just enough to speak, though the words scraped coming out.

“I love you, Dimitri,” I said, voice barely above a whisper.“More than anything else in the world.And I’ll do anything for you.”

A single tear slipped out before I could stop it.Hot.Unwelcome.Honest.

Dimitri blinked like he didn’t understand what he was seeing.“Petyr… are you okay?”

I took his hand, weaving our fingers together.I hated how badly mine were shaking.“Where’s your bedroom?”I asked, willing myself not to fall apart.

He faltered, eyes darting briefly to the front door.Always the fear, and the instinct to look for danger before desire.

“It’s okay, Dimi,” I said, my thumb stroking the back of his hand.“It’s just you and me tonight.No one will interrupt us.”

He bit his lower lip, his breath catching like he was trying to believe me.Then, finally, he nodded and tugged me gently toward the hallway.I followed, half-floating, half-afraid I might shatter from the weight of what I was feeling.

His bedroom was small, neat, almost childlike.A stack of books by the bed, a heavy wardrobe that probably held more secrets than clothes.He went to the window and drew the curtains, his hands trembling just enough for me to notice.

“I think this is the first time we’ve ever been truly alone,” Dimitri breathed.“As long as my father doesn’t show up.Are you sure he’s not coming back from work?Because…”

I kissed him again before he could finish.Harder this time.His words melted into mine, and just like that, the world disappeared.

There was no USSR, no Party, no factory whistles screaming us back to the grind.No secrets, no bruises, and no reasons to lie.There was only the two of us, standing at the edge of something too fragile to name.

But I knew what it was.

It was love.

The kiss deepened, and I let it.Let him pull me in, let him give me this moment, this one place in time where the world didn’t exist beyond his body, his breath, his trembling fingers tugging at my shirt.I felt like I was drowning in him.And maybe that was the only way I wanted to go.

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