Maksim whistles low, dragging it out. “So the almighty Alexander is going through his first heartbreak. Look at that. We should be talking about this over ice cream, ughh.”
“Shut the fuck up,” I snap, venom in my voice.
But I don’t move. I don’t even have the energy to waste my strength on Maksim.
“I don’t know what the hell it is,” I say, voice rough. “I see him and everything else in me just—” I run a hand through my hair. “Turns off. The noise, the anger, the darkness. He looks at me and makes the demons in my head quiet.”
Neither of them says anything.
I meet Viktor’s gaze again, and this time, my voice is quieter.
“But when he flinched… when he couldn’t look at me… that noise came back. Much louder. It sounded like every goddamn thing I’ve tried to bury since I was a kid.”
Then Viktor says it. Calm. Certain.
“You love him.”
My eyes shoot up to meet his. I wasn’t ready for that. The words hit harder than a punch. I blink. Then Scoff.
A short, bitter sound.
“I don’t even know what love is.”
It comes out like it tastes wrong in my mouth, foreign and sharp, like glass on my tongue. I hate how empty it sounds. How true it feels.
Viktor doesn’t flinch. Don’t mock me for it. Instead, he lets out a breath like he’s been holding it for years.
“Neither do I.” He says quietly.
His mouth twists into a sad, crooked smile.
“You think any of us were taught that shit? What it look or feel like? All we ever saw was control. Obsession. Survival.”
“Violence,” I mutter.
He nods once. “Violence.”
Maksim is quiet as he watches us, his expression unreadable.
“But I truly think what you feel for him is love,” Viktor says, voice steady and low. “A love so deep it claws at you every time he’s in pain. A love that’d make you bleed just to see him smile.”
The silence stretches, taut and heavy.
Then—
“Jesus Christ,” Maksim mutters, arms still folded where he leans against the wall, “Next thing you know, Viktor’s gonna start quoting Shakespeare.”
I shoot him a glare sharp enough to slit a throat. “Say one more fucking word, Maksim.”
He grins, completely unbothered. “I’m just saying. You nearly beat a man into a coma. Hell, he’s basically a vegetable, and now we’re having a romantic intervention?”
I step forward, fists clenching. My body’s still aching from the fight, but I swear, if he pushes one more button.
“I swear to God—”
“Alex,” Viktor cuts in, calm but firm, placing a hand flat against my chest. Not aggressive, just grounding. Like he’s holding me in place so I don’t fly off the edge. “Breathe.”
I don’t. Not at first.
