Page 43 of Night So Silent
Sergei tilts his head with curiosity. “Did the experience not live up to your expectations?”
“No!” I say much louder than I need to. “I mean, yes, it did.Absolutely.” I take a deep breath, trying to refocus. “It was...betterthan I would expect. That's why I'm kind of in shock.”
“Then what's the problem?”
I have no idea what to say. Because I can't think of a legitimate problem. Maybe I'm falling victim to the age-old misogynistic double standard that I try so hard to reject. But whatever it is, I'm not going to ruin this.
“It’s just…” I look him up and down through slitted eyes, “you’re really good at all of this.”
“Barrett,” he levels his gaze, catching me off-guard by using my real name, “I said I’ve never had sex, not that I’ve never made a woman come.”
Touché.
“But how did you know how to do all of that?” I’m getting wet just thinking about it.
He stares back at me blankly.“Because I asked you. And you told me what to do.”
Well, I'll be damned.
Now it's my turn to stare back at him blankly. I just thought he got off on me telling him what to do. And I guess, technically, he does.
“I answer all of your questions and you still don’t believe me,” he points out.
“It's not that, it's just...”
Yes, it is.
“Because of that dickwad that disrespected you?” he finishes my sentence again.
Disrespected me.
Sergei is so definitive and decisive. He doesn't mince words and he doesn't second guess them. He also took the initiative todelete all those texts when I couldn't even stomach the thought of reading them. He's the only one who knows what they said.
“Yeah,” I murmur slowly. My eyes wander out the window, to the snow-covered hillside before drifting back to his icy blue gaze. “Caleb mirrored my beliefs until he couldn’t keep the mask on anymore. The guy I dated before him pretended to be drunk so he could make a pass at one of my friends. And the one before that suddenly disappeared when he found out I don’t have prescribing capabilities.” Rehashing the character flaws of my last three relationships in this perfect place also makes me want to vomit. “If someone deceives you about who they are, they take away your consent in the relationship. You can't make an informed decision whether you even want to be there.”
“I don't waste time,” Sergei says, still resolute as ever. “I realize that it’s your job to ask questions. It's highly likely you're analyzing my words, trying to decide whether I'm being truthful.”
“I don't want to analyze you, Sergei. You're probably the only person I've never wanted to analyze because I hope you’re showing me who you really are. I want to know everything about you, but only because you want to tell me. And not all at once. I like that you're mysterious, and quiet, and you look like your eyes could punch a hole through the wall. It feels like you're safe and dangerous all at the same time.”
“I don't know how to be anything other than how I am when I'm with you.”
I crack a smile. “Are you saying I'm your baseline now?” He’s so serious, and I can’t help but temper this moment with some humor.
“I told you already,” he smiles back, “you’re my entire world now,Printsessa.”
I can’t argue with him. Well, I could, but I don’t want to.I want to let go of all my past experiences, suspicions, jadedassumptions, and preconceived notions and, for once, allow myself to bask in the extreme and raw emotion of Sergei’s words.
Just for a little while.
“Why do you call me that?” I ask. “I assume it meansprincess.”
“I don’t think you see yourself as one, but I do. And not the gawdy Disney kind.”
“Alright, so what kind am I?”
Sergei looks me up at down with his expression that I can never tell whether is curiosity or judgement. “A moth.”
“A moth?A moth princess?” What the hell kind of compliment is that? Not that I want to fall into some cliché archetype, but I’m not sure how to interpret a moth. A fuzzy butterfly? The annoying bug flitting around his head until I’m finally fried by a bug zapper?
