Page 52 of Obsessed Bratva Daddy
"Daniil," I said, low into his hair. "Don't overthink it. I won't pretend I know how heavy this is on you. But I know the people who love you. They are so happy you are alive. Please fight for them."
He sat with that. His breathing slowed against my collarbone. The shake at the back of his neck eased under my palm.
He lifted his head. His eyes were on mine. The owl lamp made them honey.
"Why do you sound like you know me?" he said.
"Maybe I know you a little more than you think."
I held his eyes for one breath. I let the corner of my mouth lift, small. I brought my hand up to the side of his face and tilted my own face up. I kissed him on the cheek. Not the corner of his mouth. The cheek. Right under the cheekbone, where the bone made a shelf for my mouth.
"Get back to bed," I said. "Try to rest."
He did not let me leave it there.
"Could you tell me. If you do know me. I feel like you do."
Please don't ask me again tonight. I will give it to you and I am not supposed to.
"Goodnight, Daniil," I said. "You will know soon. I'm not going anywhere."
He looked at me a long second. He nodded. He used the wall to get up. He walked out of Rhea's room with his head down. The door closed softly behind him.
I climbed back onto the edge of the bed and pulled the throw over my legs. I did not sleep. I listened to Rhea's small breath and the radiator clicking on once and then off once and then on again. The owl lamp kept its circle on the ceiling. The trees outside got their edges back as the sky began to lighten. I watched them get their edges back. I did not move.
The light at the window went gray and then warmer. A small hand touched my arm.
"Chloe. Come on. Breakfast."
"Okay. Let me put myself together."
Rhea slid off the bed and padded out with Beom-Beom under her arm by his good ear. I used the small bathroom across the hall. I put cold water on my face twice. I tucked the loose pieces of hair behind my ears and braided everything back at the nape with the elastic from my wrist.
I followed Rhea downstairs.
Daniil was already at the kitchen table at the head with a cup of black coffee in his hand and the soft black shirt on again, sleeves pushed back to the elbow. He had clearly slept too little. The skin under his eyes was a shade I knew. He looked up when we came in.
"Good morning, brother," Rhea said, climbing onto her chair.
"Good morning, Rhea."
He turned his eyes to me.
"Good morning, Chloe."
"Good morning, Daniil." Mine was quieter than I meant it. I cleared the small frog out of my throat after.
I crossed to the chair on his left without thinking about it. The body knew where to sit. Then I caught myself and almoststepped back. I did not. I sat. He noticed. I felt him notice. He did not say anything about it.
Rhea pushed a plate toward me with two pieces of toast on it, careful, the way she had pushed her own fries at me the day before.
"Brother," she said.
"Yes."
"Isn't Chloe pretty?"
The kitchen went very quiet for half a heartbeat. The fridge hummed once and then remembered itself. Daniil did not look at Rhea. He looked at me. He had the small careful look of a man who had been thinking about something he had not known he had been thinking about for some hours.
