Page 29 of Deviant Need

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“What? No, what are you talking about?” He finally looks at me, and the expression on his face says he thinks I’ve completely lost my mind.

“Good. Because you shouldn’t be with anyone that isn’t me anyway.”

He blinks at me.

“As friends. You know what I mean.” My jaw clenches. “You don’t need anyone else when you have me.”

Pain flashes across his face. “You’re killing me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Never mind.”

“Just tell me what’s wrong!” Frustration bleeds into my voice, and I reach for his other hand, trying to pull him closer. “This isn’t how we act. We don’t do this, we don’t avoid each other and pretend everything’s fine when it’s not.”

He pulls both hands away from me and takes a step back. The rejection stings more than it should. “I just want things to go back to how they were.” I follow him, reaching for him again.

“Mikhail, please.” His voice cracks slightly, and he turns away from me, heading toward his room. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Danya, wait⁠—”

But he’s already walking away, shoulders tense and head down, and he won’t look back at me. I bite the inside of my cheek and watch him disappear into his room, the door closing softly behind him.

Yeah, okay. Fuck this then.

I can’t stay here and stare at his closed door like some pathetic asshole waiting for him to come back out. I need to go out, to do something to distract myself from this feeling that my entire world is ending over something I don’t even understand. Pulling on my old black Converse, I head for the elevator. My hands are shaking slightly, and I curl them into fists, pressing the button harder than necessary.

All the drugs in my system make everything blur and tilt as I try to jam the key into the lock, but my hands won’t cooperate. I stumble forward, and my face smashes into the door hard enough to rattle my teeth. The key slips from my fingers and hits the floor with a sharp clank that echoes too loudly in my ears.

“Blyat,” I slur.

I don’t know how I got home. Everything between the club and standing here is just gone, a black hole where memory should be. All I know is I need to get inside, need to collapse into bed and disappear for a few hours.

I reach for the doorframe to steady myself and try to crouch down for the key without falling over, but I’m too far gone. My legs give out completely, and I crash forward, my face connecting with the door again.

Pain explodes across my cheekbone, but I can barely feel it through the haze. I can’t get back up. My body won’t listen anymore. I slide down onto my ass and slump against the door, the hallway spinning so violently I might throw up.

My face throbs where it hit, and when I swipe under my nose, my hand comes away streaked with blood. Great. Perfect.

My head falls back against the door, and I close my eyes, but that makes it worse. Everything spins harder, the floor shifting under me until I’m not sure which way is up anymore. Laughter bursts out of me. The sound comes out broken and wrong, but I can’t stop once it starts.

The door opens suddenly behind me, and I fall backward, my head hitting someone’s legs.

“Shit,” I mumble, blinking up at the ceiling. Or maybe that’s Daniil’s face. Hard to tell when everything’s spinning.

He’s looking down at me, hair messy from sleep, wearing gray sweatpants and my white t-shirt. I definitely woke him up.

“Can you stand?”

I try to answer, but the words won’t come out right. My mouth feels disconnected from my brain.

“What did you take?”

“Don’t remember.” I try to push myself up, but my arms shake and give out.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”