By the time she returns to Rome for good,she’llhave had drained me of every ounce of control, sanity, and sense.
“Yeah,” I reply, my voice thicker than normal. “After everything, we can at least call ourselves that. After all, not just anyone sleeps down here.”
Her previous sadness fizzles away for a growing smirk, and a sense of victory streaks through me. While I don’t understand how comforting people exactly works, I think I’ve managed. For tonight, at least. She’s smiling, so that’s a win.
Her gaze snaps to where my hands rest on the edge of the futon. She spots the leftover dried blood and reaches for me. I quickly return them to my side. Touching her is one thing, but her comfortingme?
It’s not—it can’t…I wouldn’t survive.Being comforted isn’t typical. Ana and I were raised without a mother, and Papa certainly never did anything remotely warm. Even our nanny was instructed precisely how to care for us, since Papa didn’t want us raised with certain ideals, like love and affection
I still recall what it felt like to have broken ribs and a bruised face during my first-ever prison trip, when I didn’t win against the men who attacked me. The guards dragged me back to my cell and, following Papa’s instructions, no medical professional was allowed in to see me. I was meant to endure—to grow stronger how he deemed it.
“What happened at your meeting?”
“Meeting was fine. Issues afterwards. Nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing?” She goes for my hands again, swinging her legs to the side until her feet touch the floor. With her alright and upright, I return to my desk. “Lev, you’re bleeding.”
“As I’ve said, it’s nothing to worry about. It was a minor issue I took care of.”
“You’re not hurt?”
“No.” My ribs claim otherwise. “Just a few minor cuts.”
She purses her lips. “After spending so much time with you in class and like”—she glances towards the TV—“this, it’s easy to forget what you are.”
“That bother you?” My heart pounds for inexplicable reasons. Itshouldbother her. If it does, she can add a line to the one her siblings drew, another for me to stay behind.
She damns us both by shaking her head. “You’re like Z. He might be a Capo, but he’s also my brother. You’re a Bratva member, but you’re my friend.”
Friend.
Do I have friends? Soldiers aren’t friends. Anastasia is blood. Dimitri and Vanessa, I suppose, but I’ve convinced myself they’re family. A better family than my papa, for certain.
When a loud yawn that’d be annoying from anyone else but is somehow charming on her, she ends it in a sleepy chuckle. “I should head upstairs and go back to sleep.” She tosses the blanket to the side and stands, stretching as she goes. Her back arches, her breasts popping out from her shirt and?—
I look away. Serafina walking around in a towel from the bathroom to her bedroom in the dorm didn’t affect me this much. The boundaries were still erected because we were not friends then.
She reaches for her textbook, bringing it up to her chest to act as a much-needed shield—another line. If only she knew how much she truly needed it.
“Thanks for letting me sleep…and being here.”
“Anytime.” It shouldn’t be the answer I give, but it doesn’t get taken back.
She walks away up the stairs, shutting the door.
My thumb strokes over my cut knuckles, her concern lingering in the air, mingling with the fruity scent I’m about to buy stock in.
32
SERAFINA
History of Biology.
The title itself describes dread in university form. Unfortunately, it’s a mandatory three-credit course I’ll slog through until the holidays, when January means an entirely new course load.
Hopefully, I’ll still be in Moscow for January.
Lev remains in the hallway again after giving me his customary nod. He’s been weird all morning, but it’s nothing I’m not getting used to. We have one good day, and the next, he’s taking three steps back.
