“Sit,” Poppy murmurs, her gentle hands pressing firmly on my shoulders, coaxing me down to the stool. “Parfait.”
She takes the needle and thread then steals my cigar. Holding up a finger against my protest, she lifts her vape in invitation. “Go easy. Bax is notorious for brewing his batches strong.”
Like a drowning man desperate for air, I take the deepest breath I can.
Vivid colors flood my tongue. A kaleidoscope of flavors collide in my throat. Sugary sweet, like rainbow sprinkles. The hit calms the tremor in my bones, soothes the bucking beast in my breast.
“Angels.” A lavender plume curls from my long and tranquil exhale. “Whatisthat?”
“Unicorn Cum.” Poppy chortles, pocketing the liquid magic and threading the needle. “No cock will ever compare.”
A chuckle slips out. “I suppose not.”
“Speaking from experience?”
“I’ve had my share.”
Poppy grins, hollowing her cheeks on the cigar. “You should trade these for a vape. Would work wonders for that chip on your shoulder.”
“How much does that cost?”
“For you?” A shrug. “Your soul will do.”
“Just my luck.”
Chortling, Poppy passes over the cigar. With a careful pinch and sharp poke through the tender flesh of my cheek, she starts the first suture.
Keeping my focus on my bloody hands twitching in my lap, I remark, “You know what you’re doing.”
“I’ll take your blatant shock as a compliment.”
“Not many people know how to properly stitch aside from doctors.”
“And soldiers.”
“Touché. Your father taught you well.”
“Actually, it was Nikolai who taught me.”
Against my better judgment, my interest piques. “Your sworn enemy was your mentor?”
“Our grandfathers were enemies, not us. We grew up as friends.” She dabs a rag to the numbing gash on my face then resumes the stitches. “Nik and I had a lot in common: both born criminal heirs, both raised to kill. As we got older, our friendship grew into something more.”
“Let me guess. He was Romeo, and you were his Juliet.”
“Hai.That is, until my family won the war against his family and made them bend the knee.” She takes a long breath, her hands remaining steady as she sutures with clinical precision. “We were at V and V. He stole my phone and locked me in a storage closet. The music was too loud for anyone to hear me. I was soaked in my own piss by the time I was found the next morning. When I saw him again, I left mymark on him. To this day, Nik hasn’t apologized for what he did. No one knows aside from us. Well, except you.”
I don’t dare reply, unsure what to say or how to say it. What Nikolai did to her wasn’t where her distress started. But it could’ve been where it all began to snowball and roll downhill until it became an avalanche that buried her beneath decades of trauma.
“I want to know what I said or did to upset you so much,” Poppy goes on, looping the final stitch. “I’ll respect your boundaries if you don’t wish to tell me, but it’s been bothering me, Brontë. Whatever it is, I’d like to apologize for it. If you’ll let me.”
The last dregs of my anger drain from my system. “I know you were using me to make him jealous.”
“Hm.” Poppy squints, cutting the thread with her butterfly blade. She dabs the drying blood from my face and neck with the rag, taking care to clean my hands, too. Then she flattens the knife under my chin, forcing my gaze up to hers. “I have no need to make Nik jealous. Such behavior would imply I care about what he thinks, and I don’t. But you, Brontë Bourbon”—she steps closer, wedging herself between my spread knees—“I care about whatyouthink of me. The reason I asked you to be there that night was because Iwantedyou there. I felt solid with you. I, um…I have a lot of stress, which is why I have the vape. I don’t know how, but your presence is becoming more potent than any smoke. You kept me rooted to the present instead of spacing and getting lost in the past while a demon from mine was five feet away.”
Remorse floods my system. “Do you still care for him?”
Poppy heaves an impressively hefty sigh for someone so small and rests a palm on my chest. “A part of me will always care for Nik. But I care for you more.”
