Page 129 of Deviant Need

But we’ve got places to be and things to do, so we can’t stay like this much longer.

“Are you ready?” I ask him, and he nods. We make our way to the car, and I slide into the driver’s seat. Daniil doesn’t even argue about it, just gets in the passenger side and buckles up. We’re heading to our parents’ house to visit our tree.

It’s our private land, so I can’t get pulled over, and it’s been forever since I’ve been behind the wheel. I haven’t even tried getting my license back since I lost it, maybe I should though.

We slow down as our childhood home comes into view. I almost want to burn the whole thing down, but then I’d also burn our secret spot on the roof, and I’d like to go there someday with him. We could lie on our backs and look at the stars and smoke together.

We get out of the car, and I lace our fingers together, leading him around the side of the house toward the back. We take it slow, making sure we don’t push too hard. Daniil’s walking better, but he still gets tired easily.

The trees surrounding us are covered in thick green leaves, summer still holding on even though fall is creeping closer. You can feel it in the air though, that shift coming.

Birds sing overhead and warm sunlight filters through the canopy, dappling across the forest floor in shifting patterns. I stick to the main trail for as long as possible before cutting through the dense forest toward our spot, pushing branches aside and holding them so they don’t snap back and hit him.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, glancing back at him.

“I’m okay,” he says, squeezing my hand.

It finally comes into view.

Our tree.

Still bare of leaves like it always has been, looking ancient and weathered.

Carefully, I pull him to me and cup his face with my hand, brushing my thumb across his cheek before leaning in to give him a soft, lingering kiss. He smiles against my lips, and we walk together hand in hand to our little hollow at the base of the tree.

Peeking inside, I see the vacuum-packed cookies and a folded blanket exactly where our mother said she’d leave them. I pull everything out carefully and shake out the blanket, spreading it across the forest ground.

When I straighten up, I spot the carving we made as kids right above the hollow. D+M, carved deep into the bark and worn smooth by years of weather. I run my fingers over the letters, tracing the grooves we cut with stolen kitchen knives.

We lower ourselves down onto the blanket, and Daniil shifts to lie on top of me, his head settling right over my heart. My hands go to his hair, fingers threading through the messy black strands, and I press a soft kiss to the top of his head.

“Do you ever want kids?” he asks suddenly.

I blink. “What? Did you eat an edible or something?”

“I’m serious. Do you want them? Because being with me means you can’t have that. I don’t want kids, and I feel like that’s unfair to you.”

“Hell no. I have enough problems keeping myself alive. Where did you get the idea I want kids?”

“I don’t know. I just wanted to make sure we were on the same page about it.”

“Danya, I can barely take care of myself. The last thing I need is a tiny human depending on me for survival. That’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Thank god.”

I smile before I can help it. “What about a dog instead?”

“It has to be a bor⁠—”

“A border collie. I know.”

“I love being with someone who knows me better than I know myself,” he says, grinning.

“You’ve been talking about getting a border collie since you were ten. It’s not exactly a secret.”

“We should get two,” he says.

I hum. “Sure.”