distance.
For some reason, she bit her tongue.
She said nothing to Pav.
Nothing except, “Yeah, I know.”
Pav went back to the sketch on the table and Viktoria was hyperaware of how hard her heart had started to beat in her chest. The sketch was unmistakable—there was no way he could look at it and not recognize his own image staring back at him.
She wasn’t wrong.
“It’s me,” he said, half amused and half curious.
Viktoria wet her lips, trying to settle her nerves. “It is.”
“It’s very good. You even got the detail of the scar on my eyebrow right.”
“Details are important.”
Something akin to a smile curved the edge of his mouth, but he didn’t look away from the sketch. “They are very important.”
A part of her wanted to hide the sketch away from view and keep it safe from scrutiny. It wasn’t that she thought he would criticize her art, but rather, she didn’t want anyone seeing what she was drawing at the moment. Her art had always been a peek inside her mind, and maybe that’s why she’d stopped drawing for so long. Because no one wanted to see the constant hell that was her mind.
The urge to take the sketch away from Pav’s view was too strong to ignore, so she crossed the kitchen floor, and snatched it up from the table without a word. Quickly, she tucked it under the pad of paper where it couldn’t be seen. All the while, Pav said nothing, simply watched her clean up the table and other items she had left sitting out.
“Do you draw every day?” he asked.
“I used to,” she mumbled.
“Yet, you tattoo.”
“Not as often as I used to. It’s not that I did it for money; my father made sure I had more than enough of that to last me several lifetimes.”
She didn’t miss his nod from the corner of her eye, but he didn’t touch on her words with his next question. “Do you not want to draw anymore?”
She swallowed hard. “I haven’t wanted to in a long time.”
“That’s a shame. Look how beautiful your work is.”
Her fingers trembled as she picked up the last couple of pieces of charcoal and put them back inside their box. Who knew when she would take them out again and draw? The thought both pissed her off and made her sad. Neither of which she wanted to deal with right then.
“I haven’t wanted anything in a long time,” she added after a moment.
It was easier to say that and keep staring at the pile of things she’d cleaned up on the table. If she looked at him when she said it, then she was going to see pity in his eyes. Or something worse … and she didn’t want to deal with those things, either.
“But you want me,” he murmured.
There he went again.
Being forward.
And not entirely wrong.
Viktoria lifted her head, and found he was staring at her just like she thought. Except she could feel his gaze, anyway. Heavy and pointed, it felt like it could nail her to the wall with the intensity she found staring back at her.
She didn’t find pity there, either.
“Don’t you?” he asked again.
Viktoria laughed under her breath. “Maybe I sometimes want some things.”
“Try me.”
“This isn’t a therapy session, okay?”
“Your attitude doesn’t scare me off like it does everyone else. I find it amusing, like a challenge to work through. I like challenges.”
Damn him.
“You wouldn’t understand what was happening in my head, even if I tried to explain it,” Viktoria muttered. “Half the time, I don’t understand it.”
“You don’t know that if you don’t tell me.”
She dragged in a shaky breath. “I don’t want to be afraid of you, but I also don’t want to trust you. I want to feel like I did on that back porch again, but I also want to drink myself to sleep because that’ll be easier than what will happen after.”
Viktoria was quick to look away from him, then. She focused on the things sitting on the table again, ready to pretend to reorganize them because she had nothing better to do. It was only his hand lifting up from his side and reaching for her that stopped her from doing anything at all. His palm was soft, yet rough from the callouses on his fingertips, as it came up to cup her cheek. His thumb stroked the line of her cheekbone, and sparks followed the same path. A chill raced down her spine, and heat flooded her veins at the same time.
Fear.
And