I stare at him, ready for the other shoe to drop.
Nikolai shrugs and picks up our drinks, holding mine out. “You looked cold. Besides, I’d rather go to the living room where it’s more comfortable.
I’ve had a hell of a day.”
“Oh, are-are you alright?”
“Do you care?” He shakes his head. “Don’t answer that.”
“I-” He’s right. I’m not answering that. I care on some strange level and of course, I care because I don’t want him to take it out on me. Only I don’t think he will. Punish, yes, and I’m still ashamed to say a part of me wants his punishment, but take something out on me? No.
“Come on.” He turns, heading out, not looking back, and I slide one hand into the pocket of his jacket, hurrying after him.
When we’re in the living room, which is soft and warm, he grabs the bottle from the bar and sets it on the coffee table. The room is definitely made for comfort and relaxation, even though, with Nikolai there, in my blood, that’s hard to do. He shuffles me to sit on one of the comfy leather couches, and I can’t help but relax just slightly into it.
“Why couldn’t you sleep, Rosalind?”
I turn my glass in my hands, suddenly not sure I want to go there with him. I haven’t told anyone about my nightmares, and there are long periods where I forget I even have them. Then, when I do finally have one, they all tumble back.
“It’s just… sometimes, it’s hard to sleep.”
He nods, giving me a look like I need to elaborate. “So you said.”
“Why did you give me your jacket?”
He half smiles and takes a swallow of his drink. “As I said, you looked cold. Besides, if you’re going to take to running around at night, I don’t want you giving someone an eyeful.” Nikolai pauses. “Unless it’s for me.” His eyes narrow, cutting to me. “I’ll bring you your slip tomorrow. Just be ready to take it off when I want.”
I nod.
“Now, tell me what the fuck is going on.” His tone is mild, lacking sting, and somehow, I shift on the sofa, moving a little closer to him, like he can protect me from the monsters in the dark.
Maybe he can.
Maybe it takes a monster to save you from the other monsters.
Maybe the bourbon’s already hit my veins.
I don’t know why, but I start to talk. Sure, he won’t let me go without getting answers to his questions, but that’s not why I do it.
“Nightmare.” I finish my drink and he tops it up, but I don’t take another sip. Not yet. “I have them a lot.”
Nikolai doesn’t speak, just nods. There’s a leisurely weight to the air, like I can unspool at my own pace.
“I…” I breathe out. “I’ve always had them. Sometimes a lot, sometimes occasionally, and there are stretches of time where I don’t have any. When I do, though, that’s when they all come back. Some of it is when I’ve been in one place too long. I get edgy. Anxious.”
He doesn’t respond, but I know he’s listening, and I shift a tiny bit closer again. He shifts, not away, not toward me, but like he knows where my brain is going. Still, he doesn’t say anything, and I take a deep breath.
“In my nightmares, I’m little, with Mom. I can see it, clear as anything. Mom’s eye is black, swollen; her cheek, too. Her lip is split, and she has blood splattered on her shirt. Someone…” My voice grows strangled, even as I try to keep it cool and low. I pause, taking another deep swallow of my drink, sputtering at the strength. Nikolai doesn’t move, just sits silently waiting for me to continue.
“Like someone beat her up. We’re hiding behind a dumpster, and it’s loud, with lots of horrible words I can’t understand ringing around us. All I can understand is the emotion, the desperation, the anger.” I look at him. “I worry it’s not a nightmare, Nikolai.”
He just nods, not moving to soothe or otherwise comfort me in any way. “Is it the same one each time?”
I shake my head. “No, but the theme is always the same. It all feels… familiar, like a memory. I’m scared they actually happened, in a past I can’t remember.”
Nikolai watches me, those dark eyes soft, contemplative, almost like there’s a window open so I can peek in. While there’s sympathy, his eyes are also bleak, no surprise or shock there, just understanding. He doesn’t speak, only nods.
“Why… Nikolai, why are you doing this to me? I know you said my father’s a terrible person, but… I don’t know him. He’s not part of me.
He’s… I don’t even know what he looks like.”
“You.”
I flinch, like he said something horrible and offensive, like my birth has tainted me. My face. “I just… I don’t understand. Why am I paying for his sins?”
Nikolai sighs. “Go to bed, Rose. Try and get some sleep.”
As I stand, he catches my wrist, taking the glass of bourbon from my hand.
“Enough of that shit,” he says. “Otherwise, you’ll be a mess tomorrow. Get some sleep and I’ll come get you in the morning.”
Nodding, I go to step back. He still has my hand, and his fingers slip down to link with mine. It sends a wild current through me.
“G-Good night.” I manage to get the words out, even with a tongue tied in knots from the feel of our skin touching. I turn to take a step, but he doesn’t let me go. Instead, he pulls me back, with a hard enough tug that I’m sprawled on his lap.
“Rose.” He brushes my hair from my cheek, his fingers soft and heartbreakingly gentle.
The resulting kiss is like nothing I’ve ever experienced.
Nothing.
Nikolai weaves magic with his lips, and I sigh into him, opening my mouth, meeting his tongue. It’s a lullaby of a kiss, slow and long, if lullabies had a darker undertone of sensual want. It’s deep and long and leisurely, like time stopped, like there’s nothing more for us to do than this. This is a kiss of heat, of embers, soft emotions and a low electric charge that is somehow more powerful than a bolt of lightning.
It doesn’t end, this kiss. It twists into bleakness and despair, then up into warm fires and languid pleasure. Through it all, though, is Nikolai. Just him and me. He tastes of bourbon, honeyed and sweet. He tastes dark and hot and everything that makes him so compelling. He tastes like untouched, shadowy dreams, like all the forbidden things. He’s tender with a hard center, violence cloaked in warm velvet. I could do this forever.
My toes curl and I can’t think; all I can do is kiss him back and ride the waves of this otherworldly place with Nikolai.
All there is in the world is this kiss and him.
When it ends, it’s slow, teasing kisses that sip and finally stop. We don’t speak, just stare at each other, barely breathing. There’s a strange link that suspends us in the moment, seeming to never end, that I don’t want to end. When he touches me, I feel… alive, hopeful, scared, turned on. I’m lost and found and damned and worshiped all at the same time. It really would be easier if I wasn’t.
He slips a finger along my cheek, his eyes dark, dipped in both desolation and something that looks like wonder. Then he closes them and sighs. He looks so damn tired; I want to hold him, soothe him, make his aching soul whole again. I suspect this man carries a lot of weight on his shoulders. His world is a deadly place and he walks fine wires and holds lives in his hands at all moments. It must take a toll.
For a long time, Nikolai doesn’t open his eyes. “Go to bed, Rose, before I drag you off with me.”
Even though I want to say yes, please do, and even though he can’t see me, I nod, and I go to bed. Alone.