Untitled pt.1

The uncomfortable stomach-churning only happened to grow its worst as Aleksandr lazily rolled tired eyes from one corner of the dark boring room, to the other. He had finished, true. However, he was the farthest from satisfied.

Natalia had gotten up almost too fast for someone who had just ended the game of tangled sheets.
“What are you doing?” His hoarse voice demanded to know her reason for her current actions as he watched her slip a plain white t-shirt over her head, planting herself in what appeared to be an uncomfortable position. “Checking email?” She sat down, one long slender leg folded beneath, as the opposite rose to press firmly against her flat chest. Aleksandr  grew offended almost too quickly.

    ”Email?” “Da?” She responded ever so sourly. What else should she have been doing? Surely, there was nothing that could have been just as important.

    Aleksandr wasn’t so much shocked, as he was, for once, and rarely, disappointed. For he had seemed to have forgotten just how different the sex could be with Natalia. She was not Pryscilla, in any way, shape, or form. And he especially was not used to the coldness, especially when it came to the act of intimacy.
    ”You could have at least stayed beside me. We’ve just-” “Just what?” She so swiftly whipped her head around, and with one glimpse, despite the darkness, he knew this look very well. Natalia had the midst of an ugly smirk slowly beginning to spread from one corner of her lips to the other.
    ”We just what, Aleksandr? We what?” She was speaking too much for him to care anymore, or gesture any source of response as he noticed the cocky eyebrow raise.
“Did we just make love?” Her lips pouted with the most sincerity. “Is that what we are calling it?” Aleksandr finally brought himself to sit up right, her mockery irked him. And unfortunately, she had so much more to say as she twisted her body toward him, leaning over the support of the chair.
    ”…Because you know what I call it?” Her thin, lipstick stained lips finally formed into that malicious bitch of a smile he had only hoped to be reminded of.

“I call it, a fuck.” She so boldly spat. “Are you still in love with me, Aleksandr? Are you? Mnh?” Her head fell to tilt only slightly, enforcing just how much she would enjoy crushing anything he had left for her.
    ”No..” He exhaled, looking away just then, his eyes fixating on the mess of bedding he had been surrounded in, and suddenly felt filthy. “Natalia,”  There was a pause, followed by the question he had always been afraid to find out the truth about.
“Did you ever really love me?” She didn’t even have to think about it. “No,” She purred, almost proud-like. “No, I didn’t, Aleksandr. I really didn’t.” And for once, he hurt, however quickly gathered a full head of clarity afterwards. Again, he wasn’t surprised by Natalia and her ways.

He shook his head, laughing.”That is just like you, too.” “But you know, to be honest with you, Aleksandr…now that I have you, I feel like it isn’t as much fun, you know? Like you’ve lost worth…A lot of worth.” She loved to twist the knife once it was in so deep.
“You’re no one to speak of worth..” Bellowed Aleksandr, however Natalia had no time for his spite.
“You see, when the American whore had you, I had something to work for. It’s just no fun; boring, da? No fun when you come back to me on your own, like little puppy…” She was just so aloof and careless of others, but this, he already knew, and shouldn’t have been the least bit surprised.

“Like some sort of game? Is that what I am to you?” “More or less.” She mused casually.
  A cold-hearted bitch was what she was.

Aleksandr was now shocked, though would still rather die than admit such a thing. Natalia continued to sit idly, in front of her brightly lit computer screen, as if impatiently awaiting something.

    ”You waste time and much money coming back here to Mother Russia. And I’ve finally grown tired of you. You’re nothing more than a little boy to me, Aleksandr. Now…find somewhere else to stay.” “You’re joking.” The words tumbled from his open mouth as he merely stared at her, wide-eyed. “Natalia, you can’t be serious, its-” “The middle of January.” Natalia chimed, lighting a cigarette ever so appropriately. “Get out, Aleksandr.” She cut to the serious chase. “Why don’t you go mend things with Pryscilla? Or does she not even want your company?”

He strained, unable to to fully wrap his head around the situation. Silence shortly fell,  for he feared just that. He somehow feared, that this time, that no, Pryscilla did not want him back. This time, he feared that his twisted, controlling and uncalled for nature, had finally taken it’s toll.

    He sat in brief thought for just a while longer, before drawing back the dark comforter and sheets; slipping out of bed before changing back into his proper attire.

    ”Xandr is on his way to he air port now.” Aleksandr bellowed beneath a grit jaw. “You do know that, da? He is on his way out to sea for three months…” “Well,” Natalia clasped hands together, trying ever so hard to make the situation seem less of what it really was.  ”I hope that  you can find another close friend to stay with.”


After many attempts and failures of pick-locking- an act in which Aleksandr had never quite mastered, he sat comfortably with cleaning up the shattered glass, courtesy of his ever so clever breaking and entering.

   ”I hope you find no trouble with me staying in your home, old friend.” He spoke after making quite the important phone call.
    ”You smashed my window?!” Xandr exclaimed, however, he wasn’t all that surprised, and much like always, understood on what sort of occasion.

“I’ll only be a few weeks at most.” “Well, da…okay. But you replace my window!” A brief, ‘I’m-kidding-but-no-seriously’ chuckle followed. “We will see.” Said Aleksandr. “Aleksandr!” “Fine.” “So what will you do from here?” A quick subject change. And he knew exactly why, for it wasn’t uncalled for in the least. He paused, knowing exactly what he should have done from ‘the beginning’.

    ”Adrian?” “Don’t.” He snapped, detesting being addressed by his birth name the most.
“I’m serious, Aleksandr…” For once, Xandr was firm, and empty of all source of humor whatsoever. “This is all your fault, my friend. There is no one else you can blame. Not even Natalia, this time. I’m sorry. Now, I’ve got to go. I’m almost to the airport. Assuming you are no fool, I expect a phone call from you when you arrive in London.” A heavy dial tone then followed. Aleksandr snarled, shoving his mobile phone into the depth of his pants pocket. The indecisive battle of stubbornness never seemed to sit well. And the last thing his pride would ever allow him to do, was get on that plane to England.

(Source: luvsyc.deviantart.com)

Out of Sight, Out of Mind

Out of sight, out of mind. That is the way he would handle this. One long, painful day at a time, until he could hopefully forget what loving her felt like. How it burned and pierced, how it drove his mind completely into the ground, over and over again. This was not easy, and despite what lies and activities proved to contain his mind within occupancy, far off within the distant fog of his mind, there she was. Staring at him; her big, beautiful painted brown eyes; graced with a thick set of ebony lashes, calling out to him with that rare expression he couldn’t help but admit he adored; desperateness.  

Xandr sluggishly managed to pull himself from the warn out sofa he had more or less been living on for the past few days. He was burning out from yet another long hard day of freedom and no work, and of course the ever favoured intake of THC, which seemed to have always been his little secret(among other drugs), despite being of importance within Russian forces. However, things such as this were never much of a worry, for they needed him as an asset, he was, as some would describe, perfect, as well as top in his game, and so, it was very odd that that something such as a regular urine test would be shoved at him any time soon.

Sitting back down after sucessfully raiding both the cupboard and refridgerator, Xandr sat down after returning with his much needed supplies for round two. He ground and sprinkled lush green and purple, craddled between both open sides of the sand-coloured rolling paper. He sighed a sigh of great releaf as he couldnt help but think how life seemed to have finally drift back into a passive, scheduled lul, and despite his ties broken with life long friend, Aleksandr and company, managed to lead a somewhat normal and eventful life. He was single, however for once in his life, he would have rathered it kept that way. However, that would all soon change, as he, without even a second thought, put fire to his rolled casual release. He exhaled a prolonged breath as he lay back his head to rest comfortably against the broad, cushioned chest of the sofa; mind completely engaged within a warm colourful tingly flow, as well as absolute relaxation that felt almost too good and stress-free to be true. As in most cases, it soon would proove to be just that, for as he felt his eyes begin to drift into a light close, a light tap seemed to have passed through each eardrum. Xandr came to open eye sight as he brought himself to a wobbled stand, before maintaining perfect footing. ‘The hell..?’ he thought to himself, smoothing out a number of wrinkles that pulled together at the upperlegs and pelvic area of his pants. He approached the front door; cautiously of course, due to the overbearing paranoia of just who was on the other side of that door. Xandr paused just then, there was no more sound, no more knocking. Until, of course, he turned his back to retreat back to the couche. He then confirmed with himself that he was not crazy, as yet another soft knock asounded upon the other side of his front door. This was all very odd, he kept thinking, and worrying to himself as rubbed his glossy, grabbing firm hold of the knob; enforcing a cautious turning. And as he pulled the heavy wooden door to an open, ‘her’ broken and believed to be beaten posture stood before him. This was real.
In a wave of split instance, Xandr relapsed upon registering just who, in fact, stood before him just then. Only recently, had he been following his ever so ‘try hard’ motto of ‘out of sight, out of mind’, and this situation, whatever it would soon turn into, certainly made it difficult to follow through with it. Scared completely sober at this point, a very inwardly shaken up Xandr could do nothing more than stand there, staring down at the frail, withered blonde, drenched completely by the heavy rainfall that had been consistant for the past few days.

    ”Xandr…” A soft, meek and broken voice peeped, which was of course, unusual for miss Ana. She proceeded to step forward, eyes grounded, unmeaningly close now, as  Xandr could only muster whispers.
“What…happened? Anastasiya…what-” His arms rose to carefully smooth against her frail shoulders, however Ana flinched, stepping back.

“I know that…” It appeared as though she was having trouble finding her words, depsite the use of mother tongue. Xandr’s mind couldn’t stop assuming the worst. “I know that you said I was not to come back to you…” She continued, “but I…” Her chest began a slow and steady heaving , before suddenly, Xandr couldn’t help but notice her slender frame begin to tremble, almost pathetically; breathing increased it seemed.  ”I just did not know where else to go…so I..-I didn’t..” Ana was almost hysterical, as it would appear, which again, let Xandr to right to assume that something certainly was not right. Something happened, and all he wanted to do, was mend her broken state.  ”Sh, shh…” He eased, gesturing for her to kindly take a seat down to calm herself.They sat in a heavy awkward silence, or at least on Xandr’s behalf, for the next few moments, inwhich seemed to take forever to pass until he mentally had enough of the on edge guessing that would notstop bombarding his racing mind.
“What happened to you, Anastasiya..?” He leaned forth, a short distance away from the love-seat where Ana had curled up, legs pressed to chest.
“I was…leaving Natalia’s…” She began slow, she chose something in the distance to keep her attention on; to remain focused with her speech. “…after an argument I had with Father, and I…-I was attacked.” It just seemed to birth itself from the top of her head, and Xandr seemed to be buying. For she knew full-well, that if he were to know the exact circumstances of her current state, the outcome would have only resulted in further turmoil.

Still, Ana could not welcome eye contact, and Xandr noticed. A light had somehow went out. She lacked the bold, abrasive confidence that usually followed within her words and expression; her body language especially. However, all that had now seemed to vanish and shrink down into this scared little girl.   ”Where now?” Xandr demanded. “Where are they now? Do you know?” “I-..I don’t know.” She  replied, almost inaudible. “Did they touch you? What did they do?” “No- Niet..nothing..like that,” She could see now that  this would be lie after white lie; Ana sighed heavily.  ”It was my fault after all..” She exhaled softly, managing to pull her head up right from looking at the many darkened bruises that littered the insides of her legs; through the nilon.  ”I was already in a terrible mood,” she went on to explain finally, “and so…I guess, how do you say, I asked for it?” She chuckled, hoping to lighten Xandr’s mind and mood a bit. But just in case,  ”I don’t…want to talk about that anymore..” She tried to stray as far away from the issue  as possible, looking over at him with somewhat of a desperate plead in her eyes. “How are you..?” She knew he would forget in that instant and stray too, away from the subject that once was at hand.
Xandr blinked, a brief head shake being gestured as he tried his hardest to let go of the problem. Ana seemed to be coming around, and he didn’t want to risk the chance of loosing her attention again. How are you? The questioned had repeated itself many times in his head before he was fully able to answer her. “I’ve been well, actually.” “You have..” She couldn’t help but feel disappointment. Wasn’t she his world? So how was it that he had been doing so well?  ”I see..Well, I’m glad to hear that..” An awkward air soon settled, worse than before, and this time the fault fuly rested on Xandr, as he inwardly cursed himself for such a careless remark. He wasn’t well, in fact, despite all attempts to occupy himself from thoughts of her, she still,bruned bright within the back of his mind.
“Thank you..” Seemed to be all that he could muster, but even still, he felt he was being far too cold. “Why don’t you clean yourself up…I will run a bath for you..” He brought himself to a slow stand, looking down at her as he made way from the living room the the bottom of the stair case. “A bath…” Chuckled Ana. “Da. A bath, thank you..Xandr.”

What in God’s name had just happened? It’s what he couldn’t stop asking himself, over and over again, as he made way up the stairs, and into the bathroom to begin running Ana’s hot water. It had been months, nearing a year, and now, all in one breath she was back onto his doorstep, and in quite the literal sense, but as he thought more logically, and more slowly, he felt some ease. As long as she remained here with him, she was safe, and he supposed, that in reality, that is all that really mattered. It was hard to say just what exactly was to happen next. Ana was clearly not being honest with him, and he knew that of course. Xandr was no fool, despite the playful rolse he often chose to play. However the case, he would do what he could to maintain a comfortable atmosphere for the young girl, and if that meant a nother month of ‘waiting’, then so be it. For her, it was all worth it.

(Source: luvsyc.deviantart.com)

Constant Knot

“A girl,”
Said the Doctor. A beautiful, bright, and wide-eyed, optimistic, new born, baby girl. The parents couldn’t have been more proud. And despite the lack of hair extensions, lip liner, and other Sephora products for the time being, the mother still somehow managed to resound as radiant as ever.

The infant ceased crying, bringing its new found breath to result in a soft coo; saucer hazel eyes circled cautiously about the room; taking in, for the very first time, such a great and brightly lit scenery.
He could have shed tears then, as the mother lovingly handed her new born bundle of joy forth.
    ”Hold her,” Her voice was still hoarse from the delivery, however, somehow manage to still sound just as cheery as ever. She was certainly something…

“I’m glad you could be here by my side for this occasion, my friend.” Then muttered the father, who, despite his presence; a lack of emotion as a constant, beamed with integrity, accompanied by the most unusual thing; a genuine smile. It was ever so unlike his best friend to even crack so much as a subtle smirk, let alone something so soft as a smile.

He took the child, into his arms. He looked down with the warmest of eyes, and the softest of a kiss that was then planted onto the infant’s lush, soft forehead. She looked up at him as he held her for the first time, however, suddenly, she somehow grew up. And far too fast…

Thoughts like these, among many others, took complete occupation of mind, as he ripped and tugged at the last garter and fishnet; tangled between fingers as he couldn’t help but be completely astounded by the way she slowly rocked her hips, pulling down a thin lacey fabric that was a supposed form of undergarment. He was so close, and the smell was almost too intoxicating. Everything about her drove him mad; insane. His only trouble was admitting it. It was almost a form of betrayal, this was. But oh how once he was fully inside did it seem to come together and make sense, as well as become so much more worth it. 

A suppressed, heavy moan arose from the young girl’s throat as she then forcefully grabbed him by the head of hair, enforcing an oral pleasure she had only been waiting for, and ever so impatiently. He held no objections as he felt her lips pull into a devious smirk, despite being unable to see her porcelain-dainty face; her stressed finger tips coiling around a handful of thick, dark hair, making it somewhat difficult to breath in anything but her fine scent. He loved every moment, indulging himself as he reached both hands to support her by each thigh, taking  light breaths of clarity between kissing tenderly.

“Yes!”
He looked up to her, her mouth agape, occasionally biting down onto her lip, making, at least an effort to douse her screaming.
“Vot imenno! Da! ” She hollered in the mother tongue, “Yestʹ chto kiska!!” 
She had him, her demands furthering  the situation until he couldn’t take it anymore. He put a slow stop to his hungry, and all to curious tongue. Swift and carefully lunging his posture over her slender frame. Her spread her legs; quickly and wide, knowing all too well they hadn’t much time left at all, for she was near finishing, as was he, due to such friction and desire.

With one steady, final, and rough thrust, he felt it. The release that made him forget it all. The circumstance, the betrayal; all the negative consequences that could have been. He was satisfied. Something that came to him as quite the rarity.
He looked down at the long-haired beauty; their breathing at both, a synchronized calm, as she then found the strength to pull herself up, wrapping frail, trembling arms about his broad frame, kissing his neck and collar bone tenderly. He leaned in to press his forehead to hers, releasing a doubtful sigh just then, and at that moment, everything spoiled. He couldn’t escape the guilt, the constant knot of on-going reality that it unfortunately was. It pulled and tugged at his conscience, for no matter how many times he would lay her down, claim her lips, taste her sweet fluids, cause her body to shudder; the eyes that looked back up at him, at  the end of it all, would forever remain the same, holding the same innocence as the first moment he had held her in his arms; those seventeen years ago. 
The doctors, the hospital room. The cool, brisk autumn air that struck his nostrils as he carried his best friend and companion’s laboring other through the emergency doors. He had only wished that he hadn’t remembered so vividly. This was where he would grow ill with enough guilt for the both of them; seeing as she could have cared less about whether they were confronted or not. This no doubt would have been one of the reasons as to why their secret status and relations continued so strongly. She was so dangerous, and he couldn’t help but love everything about it.

(Source: luvsyc.deviantart.com)

Safer to Hate Her

Aleksandr inhaled a deep and lengthy breath as his heartless expression attempted to remain as permanent and truthful as possible. He had always been an excellent liar, as well as manipulator. However, this time in particular, proved to be somewhat difficult. Difficult because she could actually see; see into and through his heart and conscience. And perhaps for once in his life, it frightened him. For Aleksandr was full of ugliness. Jealousy, and anger. Hostility, and the desire to be in constant control. It reigned at first and for most priority. And he had finally come to terms with refusing to keep putting her through such unfair events.

Pryscilla was a wild flower, and her thorns made it difficult to have her pressed tightly between blood stained, pricked fingertips. She was also stubborn. Far too stubborn. However, he did enjoy a challenge when it came to their overly physical arguments. If that was what one could call them. And argument was nothing more than a simple misunderstanding for some and mostly others. The word ‘argument’ was unfortunately, nothing more than an understatement. For when they fought, there was always blood. The sex shortly followed. Which wasn’t much of a progression from the past-had violence, or the blood, and he could tell all of this, what was to shortly take place, certainly would not be easy, but Aleksandr was prepared.

He welcomed her into the dimly lit apartment. The faint, yet unmistakable scent of deep cinnamon tickled her nostrils with each careless inhale she took. Aleksandr carefully moved past her, almost dreading even the slightest bit of eye contact.

He said he wanted to talk. Pryscilla was confident. For something worded so finicky was unusual for Aleksandr. His English was always the best, she had to keep reminding herself. He certainly was one of a kind.

“So what’s up?”
She slid an arm out of her large, over the top pink, and white furred half jacket, letting it carelessly fall onto the love-seat. Then to remove her winter hat, and mittens. Aleksandr watched her movements very carefully. There were reasons why he kept her so close and tightly held.

He wondered what mood she was in today; at this moment in particular. This could have gone in three different fashions. Fury, silence, or a dramatic outburst of tears. All were very predictable, and he was just as curious as to which one would consume her fragile little heart the most.

Pryscilla waltzed over, throwing both arms around his broad frame, arching her neck forth to kiss him softly upon the oh so serious lips, however, Aleksandr delivered no source of reciprocation, and she instantly felt it.
“What the hell?” She steamed, pulling back at once; a little confused as to what was now going on. He felt a tiny rage, just waiting to rear itself. He thought to himself, was it sad that he fed on it?

“Aleksandr?” Her patients wore extremely thin by the tone she now gestured.
“I don’t need those anymore.” Aleksandr quickly cut her off.
“What?” She didn’t understand. “What’re you even talking about? And like, why did you sound so weird on the phone , huh? Why?” “Stop.” He told her firmly. “You talk far to much, Pryscilla. Far too much. That is what I think I dislike most about you- is these…” He slowly extended a hand, touching lightly pressed fingertips to her painted lips. Only his thumb enforced a firm press against her bottom, purposely smudging rouge.

“What the fuck..?!” She shoved him, however quickly became captured by a swift and rough grip to the wrist. She looked up and into the all too familiar, serious expression he refused to let down.

“I think…” Began Aleksandr, looking down at her with those cold eyes that reminded her all too much of something heartless and serpent-like.
“…This is through.” 
Pryscilla’s eyes grew wide. “Wh-what?” She would have liked to pretend that she was indeed as puzzled now as she once had been only moments ago. Her dainty fashioned brow line slowly gave a weak lift, then resettled, for this was indeed a break up whether she wanted to believe it or not.
“What’s…through?” She still thought she would make the desperate attempt at wanting to believe he would just take it all back, like all of this was just some sort of terrible dream, or misunderstanding. However, she felt the burning behind her eyes, preparing to let everything go all at once, reminding her that this was very real. This all must have been just one big, and utterly ridiculous, twisted joke, for she had warned him long ago, never to leave her.
“You’re a very intelligent girl. I do not need to elaborate.” He threw her wrist back coldly, as if desiring her out of his sight all at once. However, he knew all too well that it wouldn’t be that easy, for she was definitely the stubborn type.

If he wanted to leave her, fine, thought Pryscilla as she couldn’t help but swallow back the rugged frustration that begged to tear through her throat, resulting in a, no doubt, hoarse, shrill screaming. If he wanted to leave her, fine.
But, “Why?… I want to know why…-Why all of a sudden, have I lost my worth, Aleksandr?!”
He reaction was peculiar , it almost amused him for an instant, however he said nothing. The silence; an obvious frustration on Pryscilla’s behalf.
“Aleksandr!?” She would be damned if she would let him get away with standing mute. What she wanted, was an answer.

“You’ve become a very boring and stressful burden to me.” He rehearsed casually, just as he knew the dialogue would go.
Her mouth dropped instantly. “Boring?!” She hollered. “I’m boring to you?! Is that it?! Is that really it? You’re full of fucking bullshit! Bullshit, Aleksandr! Bullshit!!”

Her chest heaved immensely as Aleksandr merely watched her, as calm and serine as ever; her colourfully inked skin rose and fell with much panic and distress.
“You want to know something?!” She screamed, leaning forth, head held high in confidence as she tried best to match his eye contact. Unfortunately, he stood a good head… or three taller.
“You’re a liar! A fucking liar! You’re a liar!” She shoved him twice with either palm. “There’s something wrong with you!! -Or wait! Lemme guess! Natalia right? Has she won your cold and super serious heart!? Huh?! Has she won, Aleksandr?! Tell me!!”

Aleksandr felt his teeth tighten; quite frustrated now. He had had enough of hearing her mouth run on an over bearing constant. It irritated his sensitive ears. Exhaling a gentle sigh, he advanced without precaution, as if wishing to encase her defenseless frame; breaking her down slowly.
“My dear, dear, Pryscilla… “
She distanced herself at once, however it prevailed useless once her back rested firmly against the living-room wall; trapped, and staring up and into the face of someone she thought she could trust with her life. However, at this moment in particular, she would have rather feared for it. 

“You cannot leave it alone…Always wanting more…More..So much…fucking more!” His accent was thick as he leaned in close, trapping her position to a complete standstill. A decision was meant to be made just then. He wanted her to hate him. To loath him to the point of where infatuation and lust; desire, no longer had their precious cameos.
All of his life, Aleksandr had lived hate, loneliness and hostility. He was confident he could pull this off with ease.
“This, whatever you like to call us, was nothing more than my own selfish, foreign curiosity…Because…when you think about it, what possible made you think I ever cared about something like you?” He looked her up and down with such displeasure. His eyes darting from one bodily aspect to the next.
“…With your painted face, dirty tattoos…Those false eye lashes,” He paused, taking a moment to even spread a subtle smirk, shaking his head somewhat. “Even your hair colour is a lie!” He ended his eruption with a brief mutter in the Mother tongue, sneering.

“Do you think you look pretty? Hm? Is that what this is called?” He extending an arm, softly, a hand caressed her porcelain face, pushing through locks of platinum blonde hair. His fingers played lovingly at first; Pryscilla needing into such a warm touch, however, the ugliness soon reared its head as she felt a rough tug, bringing her neck to look upward. Aleksandr coiled a large amount of hair around his fingers, enforcing her to look him very straight and deeply in the eyes. She could only attempt to catch her breath that had lost itself, along with a sense of security.
Aleksandr had always done well with making her feel so good about herself, however, he, this time, had a very definite feeling, that he would be even better at breaking her down.

“Mh? Tell me, little American swine…”
He could feel how frustrated she had become, by the way her cheeks bones strained against the soft flesh of her cheeks, refusing speech; teeth clenched. Just one more push…
“You are nothing to me. Nothing but Western trash. A walking peep-show. It almost makes me sick to reflect on how much of yourself you willingly gave to me, and in such manners…-But such a good fuck…” He grinned with such malicious intent as he inhaled her scent for what he knew would no doubt be the last time. He could taste her…almost wanting to drop everything at hand and take her, just one last time.
“You know nothing about me…Pryscilla-Jayne Sullivan…and you just shouldn’t.”
His breath was cool against the dip between her neck and soft shoulder, as he spoke closely, against the skin, his lips almost pressed too comfortably. 

Pryscilla was in utter shock, her mind a complete blank slate before the tears finally decided to fully surface, quietly spilling down either cheek. This wasn’t at all how he envisioned his perfect plan to rid himself of the girl. In fact, it felt more like a backfire in the making. Or so, he thought before he felt the swift, and surprisingly mighty backhand-to-check collision he had been struck with just then. Followed by yet another juvenile shove. 

“Fuck you!!” Screamed Pryscilla, throwing her first forward in a violent rage. Aleksandr regained his footing, pursing his lips to gesture a short tisk. His lips then curved to form into a wide-spread grin, catching the hit as his palm closed around her precious fist. Aleksandr squeezed, gathering an instant of pleasure from the very obvious discomfort within her facial expression. He loved it, as her body tilted to one side, stomaching the pain he was causing. Finally, he let go; her hand falling limp against her side.

There were no words, for only a soft quiver of her lips occupied Aleksandr’s attention. He was in love with how desperate she no doubt felt. How slowly she swallowed , the daintiest bead of sweat trickled from her temple.  Or how her fingers couldn’t stop from clamoring for something he indeed knew she would not receive.

“Aleksandr…” She finally sobbed, all tied in with the sorry peep of fear.
“What…did I do? Like…-Tell me. Please..!” …And then, with the break down.
“Please! Why won’t you fucking tell me?! Please…! Please..?” Now she was begging, and suddenly, he realized; it wasn’t what he wanted anymore.
“Pryscilla…I-” He let her name slip accidentally from his lips, that, for now, he feared, quivered. Pryscilla looked up at him with the glossiest pair of eyes, accompanied by the most broken expression.
“Aleksandr I…-I love you…” He cringed, baring a bit of fang.
“I fucking love you! I-” Aleksandr didn’t have to think, he struck her at once. The shock; taking a moment to register, that was, until she felt the warm decent of blood from the corner of her numbing mouth.

“Get out of here, devushka.” He heaved beneath grit teeth, making sure he looked her in the eyes. Pryscilla flinched, and all at once he regretting everything he had just done, casually trying to look away. This was not how he envisioned things.

“Leave…” Repeated Pryscilla, her eyes fixated on the floor bellow her. The only thing, she thought, that could have possibly already been lower than what she was.
“So like, that’s it. I’ll leave..?” She looked up at him for the last time. ” So, was everything you said, what we had, what we were—” “You’re no good for me, Pryscilla-” “Was it some sort of fucking joke!?” “Vy mne ne podhodit !” Hollered Aleksandr. “We are no longer intimate! Now…I will ask you one more time, to please leave.”

Pryscilla couldn’t believe what she was hearing; she tried to hard to refuse the reality that felt like anything but. Shock set in one last time before she suddenly just gave up. Gathering up her winter belongings. She bit her lip to keep it all in and okay, for now that was, as she made absolutely no source of eye contact with him, finally taking her walk of shame, and not the kind she was better acquainted with. 

This was indeed the end, thought Aleksandr as he couldn’t help but let his tough expression weaken and furrow as he merely stood where with his head in his hands, digging fingers firmly against the sides of his temples, pulling at his thick, dark wave of mess. He gathered himself shortly after, inhaling so deep it almost pained him to let it back out. For no sooner gad the beautiful blonde shut the door, had the sound of glass shatter against the door behind her. Aleksandr knew very well he had woven a very grave web of mistake. Once again, distancing himself from the only but of happiness he had grown to know and maybe even cherish. However, in one’s mind such as Aleksandr’s, all of this was only for the better, as difficult as he knew it would be for her to even begin to understand. In his mind, it would have been indeed safer to hate her, than to lover her and loose her. For big, bad, Aleksandr was not a fan of heartbreak.

(Source: luvsyc.deviantart.com)

Bytchkov

You were never this sour, never this hateful. I remember a time, long ago, when the smile spread across your thin lips, that always carried that lush stain of Russian red, did not spoil and wither itself into that malicious, double-crossing smirk that now seems to sit so perminantly against your mouth. The way your neck occasionally dips to the side, as if being irritated constantly, and just by simple things, like small questions and words.

Moscow was colder back then I understand, leaving you with not much of an oportunity to prove yourself, however you always were stubborn, and willing to prove those who stood against you, wrong. Especially your brothers. You were the runt of the litter, so to speak, but your mother’s encouragement always managed to keep you at sail; striving to be nothing but successful. Striving to have a place in Mother Russia that mattered.

to be continued…..

(Source: luvsyc.deviantart.com)