I snort when it hits me. “LikeHome Alonebut deadly.”
Seva laughs. “Yes. Exactly like that. With my face uncovered, they started coming, and at this point they’re just a minor disturbance to my life,” Seva tells me and tosses a whole stick of butter onto a pan as I slide the raw dumplings into the pot next to it.
“Like a well-oiled machine,” I say, absentmindedly watching our food. “And you installed all those traps yourself? You must be great at DIY.”
Seva kisses my temple and stirs the melting butter. “No one is allowed in here, so I don’t really have a choice. Nobody should be trusted. If my mentor betrayed me, what would stop a builder from selling my secrets?”
I’m about to ask a question, but Seva points out that one of the dumplings has risen to the surface, and he passes me a metal strainer with instructions to fish out those after a few more seconds. I take my job so seriously I can’t focus on anything else, but I still notice him pouring lots of breadcrumbs into the butter. I never cooked with anyone like this, and it makes me all cozy inside.
Seva hisses when I accidentally splash a few droplets of boiling water on his arm. As soon as I apologize, he gives me a kiss and tells me it’s fine.
This could be my life. My home.
Painting. Cooking. Fucking. Occasional body disposal.
Soon enough, we have two steaming plates of dumplings over which Seva pours the buttery breadcrumbs and finishes it all off with sugar and cinnamon. The smell makes my mouth water.
We face each other in the kitchen, forks in hand, and I keep nudging his foot with my toes, because I need his warmth to prove this isn’t a dream.
“These are so goood!” I say with my mouth full. It’s an unfamiliar flavor with the tartness of cheese in the dough, but something about it is comforting, almost tender. Each bite reminds me of an imaginary home I never had, and suddenly I’m fighting tears, because this is exactly what I’ve always wanted. To belong, To create. To have someone who cares about me the way I care about him.
“Next time I’ll be watching, and you will make them,” Seva tells me and playfully steps on my toes.
I have to wipe away tears. “I’m sorry I’m such a cry-baby. I just never had anything like this in any foster home. These taste of love.” I stuff my face with more before I embarrass myself further. I’m drunk. And he’s all quiet, because of course I said too much, and now he’s awkwardly wondering how to get rid of me!
I twitch at his touch.
“I’ve missed this too. Since Mom died, I’ve been so alone. Sending my paintings out into the world was what made me feel like I existed. But now you’re here, and I no longer feel like a ghost.”
My fingers tremble, so I set my plate aside, then I take the one step separating me from him and hug him tightly. I know how that feels. To exist but be invisible to the world. “You’re not. You’re the most real thing in my life.”
His rigid form relaxes, and as firm arms tighten around me, smelling of sugar and cinnamon, I realize this is whathappiness should feel like. So what that I’ve found it in the arms of a killer when so many people spend their whole lives looking for it in vain?
Seva kisses the top of my head, my forehead, then follows the curve of my cheek, all the way to my waiting mouth.
It’s the sweetest kiss he’s given me, and not just because of the sugar on his tongue. “Would you like to... spend the night with me?”
“Yes. Please. I don’t want to be alone,” I whisper, staring into his perfect eyes. If I could melt into him like the cheese did into dough, I would.
I hear Seva swallow, and he rubs my back, pulling me closer.
“Neither do I.”
Chapter 16
Sevastyan
Iconsideredusingropeto tie Victor, but since he’s wearing clothes tonight, tape seemed like the more convenient option. Still, next time, if there is one, I shall take him to my bed naked, skin crisscrossed by red silk. Or perhaps green? Green would go so well with Victor’s coloring. It would be a feast for my eyes.
I sink my face into the crook of his neck and taste the delicate skin while my hands slide down his arms, straight for his wrists. “I’ll make sure you’re comfortable.”
He slips one hand out of my grasp, but just as I worry that he’s changed his mind, he grabs his glass of vodka and downs it. One deep breath later, he looks right into my eyes and lets me take his hands. “Okay. I’m ready. Do what you have to. And… where do you actually sleep?”
A chuckle escapes my lips, and I finish my glass too. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
He’s such a stunner. I wish I could kiss every freckle on his body, and shut his green eyes with my tongue. I suppose I could do both, but maybe not tonight. We are both exhausted, and what we need is comfort.
Victor holds his wrists together, facing me with so much trust it stirs a long-lost emotion inside me, but this isn’t the moment to give in to the rush of booze in my head, so I unroll some of the tape and wrap it around his forearms.
