When you woke up, you found yourself still in Shuhrat's embrace. You turned around carefully to avoid waking him up and took a good look at his sleepy face in the morning light. His lips were curved up, perhaps he was having a good dream, and his hair a dark mess, blocking his forehead. You stared and studied his jawline, his nose, and his cheeks. He was beautiful, and so peaceful that you could feel his steady breath on your skin.
You tore your gaze away from his face and looked down at his body. Even with a shirt on, you could see his well-defined muscles, and of course, his strong arms. You loved the masculinity emanating from him, making you feel safe and secured.
You dared not touch him, in anticipation of your actions waking him up, and simply enjoyed the quiet moment in bed with him. You asked yourself, what was him to you really? Thinking back on all your yearning and longing for him, and how it all resolved the moment you met him again, you understood that you placed him somewhere between a brother and a lover. After all, the warm flush you felt whenever he touched you was certainly not platonic.
You wanted to feel his touch, and you wanted more.
You wanted to kiss him again, like you did last night, only this time you wanted it to last a bit longer. And as your thoughts propelled you forward, you found yourself staring at his lips and biting down on your own, your heart beating like a drum.
Just a gentle kiss.
Just one.
You tilted your head and pushed your lips against his, a light tap, something you thought would never wake him up, and maybe it didn't, but you swore you felt his arm twitch when your lips met. Shuhrat's lips were soft and warm, and you etched this memory in your mind. It was your first real kiss, and your entire body reacted to it. You felt a pit forming in your stomach and the tip of your fingers tingle, and it was all because of him. Ripples of happiness centered on your heart radiated out to every corner of your being, almost bringing tears to your eyes.
You haven't been this happy since… forever.
Pulling your head back, you closed your eyes and held your breath, listening for any movement from him, and to your relief there was none. A stolen kiss, you smiled to yourself, getting a bit teary. It would be your secret, buried along with the many words, thoughts, like flashcards in your head. Loving him was a terrifying concept to you, just like becoming close to anyone in general. When you loved someone too much, it was easy for them to hurt you, easy for them to leave, to forget you, and to vanish. In a sense, you were protecting yourself by putting a safe distance in between.
I love you, Shuhrat. You confessed silently and sighed, attempting to send yourself to sleep again. You closed your eyes and inhaled his scent, wishing that you could stay in this moment for eternity.
The next time you woke, it was just past noon and Shuhrat wasn't there anymore. You rubbed your eyes and lifted yourself off the bed to stretch lazily, your arms high up in the air. You checked the calendar on the wall and felt relieved that you still had a good week to spend with Shuhrat before he had to go again. How you wished days would last forever, so you could keep him with you selfishly.
The two of you met at the lunch table and your adoptive parents were happy that you finally started talking to them again, thanks to Shuhrat. They asked him about his time in the military, especially his father had many questions for his current position. You could tell from the man's eyes that he was so very proud of his son and it made you smile. Watching him interact with his father, you wished you could gaze into your father's eyes again.
"You all grow so fast, I sometimes forget you aren't little kids making toys anymore." You heard his mother say, "Remember Shuhrat, always create for good."
He had always been a natural inventor, keen on how to make things tick and work. You still had many stuff that he made you stored in various corners of your room, woodworks and mechanical stuff, all served to lighten up your mood. In fact, the clock in the living room was one of his handiworks. It was shaped like a birdhouse, but every hour on the hour there would be a pig that popped out of it and make a loud oink before getting back inside the house. You always loved listening to that noise.
"Always, mother." He replied and passed you a piece of bread, you took it and thanked him.
"So, what are you two younglings up to today?" Asked his father.
You looked to Shuhrat as he answered, "I want to take her out to meet a friend of mine. Timur. We met in England."
"Good, you boys make sure she has a good time, alright?"
You felt embarrassed by the request, knowing that Shuhrat's father always wanted you to be more active and go out more, being the recluse you were. It would be nice to meet Timur finally, though. You wondered what other people like Shuhrat was like.
After lunch, you set out to go meet Timur at the appointed place. It was very convenient that you were all around Moscow so picking a midpoint was what the boys settled with. You had your favorite outfit on and took some time to make yourself pretty; it was nerve wrecking to meet new people, you admitted to yourself.
When you finally saw Shuhrat's comrade, you were surprised by a friendly hug coming from him. He took a few big steps towards you and grabbed you by your arms before giving you a warm hug. It startled you a little, and a glance at Shuhrat you could see that he had his mouth open, presumably wanting to say something to Timur.
You remained still until Timur let you go and you smiled awkwardly at the man. He had cool blue eyes, unlike Shuhrat's warm brown.
"I've heard so much about you. It's good to finally meet you."
"It's a pleasure to meet you too." You said shortly, not knowing how to deal with the situation. You wondered if Shuhrat had told him about your past. Maybe that's why he's so nice to you?
"She likes your painting." Shuhrat added on the side.
You snapped back to the conversation and nodded hurriedly, having almost forgot about it, "It is beautiful, thank you so much, Timur."
"The 18th birthday is always important. I'm glad you like it." Timur smiled and gestured the two of you to follow him, "Come, we can talk more at the alley."
Not far away from where you met was a bowling alley that was usually booming with business. The three of you found a lane and settled down before Timur handed you a menu for drinks and snacks.
Each of you got your favorite drinks, but the boys got alcoholic ones. You kept your gaze on Timur and pondered his character as they talked.
"Poor Alex (Tachanka), having to deal with Maxim."
"They will have fun without us, Timur. All the actions." Shuhrat replied before downing his drink and turning to you, "Let's bowl?"
You nodded with a smile and got up, getting yourself pumped and tried to let go of your nervousness. One lane next to yours had a strike going on and people started cheering loudly. You felt Shuhrat come up behind you nudged your hand with a ball.
"Do you know how to do it?"
To be honest, you didn't, but you took the ball from him anyway. The weight immediately pulled down half of your arm and you started blushing at your inexperience before finding balance again.
Shuhrat had the look on his face as if he was going to chuckle but held it back. He led you to the middle of the lane and demonstrated to you the correct way to pitch the ball.
"Like this, just lower to the ground. Don't throw it out, let it slide." He held your arm for a while until you managed to find the best position, "Now try."
You let the ball go as it landed with a thud, only to watch it roll further and further to the side track and going under. The pins stood undisturbed at the end of the lane and you lowered your head in disappointment.
"It's alright, give it another try." You heard Timur encourage you as you grabbed another ball and focused on the lane before you.
This time, the ball rolled very close to the center of the lane and managed to hit all but two of the side pins and you chirped victoriously. You glanced back at the boys and found both of them smiling back at you.
"Now comes the hard part: You have to hit the last two." Shuhrat laughed.
It took you one other try before you got the strike and it was Timur's turn next. The tall Russian stood up from his seat and grabbed a ball like it was air before tossing it gracefully down the lane. The ball hit the middle pin dead center, and all others fell under collision like magic. Strike on first try. You stared in amazement and clapped for him.
Timur looked to Shuhrat with a challenging smirk, "Best that, Kessikbayev."
You watched as Shuhrat loosened his muscles and grabbed a ball. After a loud crash, he also got a strike on the first try. Coming back to sit down next to you, you saw him relax himself, staying cool and smug as if telling Timur that he could do just as good as him.
"That was just luck, no skill." Timur mused, and you chuckled at their friendly rivalry.
You played a few more rounds and downed several more drinks before your time was up and you left the alley and walked along the street. It was still early into the night, but the open market place nearby was populated by travelers and fair-goers. You saw tourists and locals, all mingled together looking for the wares they desired.
You were affected by the joyful atmosphere around you and it made you want to converse more. Walking between Shuhrat and Timur, you joined in on their banter actively.
"Who does more exciting things, you or Shuhrat?" You asked Timur.
He gave Shuhrat an evil look before answering, "It depends how you look at it. I make sure he doesn't get shot in the ass, and he takes care of charging in."
"Last I checked, I was the one saving your ass." Shuhrat retorted.
"Of course you were." Timur laughed.
So it was dangerous after all, what they did. You felt that familiar worry climb up your heart, imagining the gunfire and war in your mind. You didn't want any of that, you just wanted Shuhrat to be safe.
"As long as you look out for each other, I guess…" You said, "I don't want any of you to be hurt."
They paused and looked at you at the same time before Timur replied, "We're trained to do this, сестричка (sister), you needn't worry."
Shuhrat didn't say anything and you wondered if he was thinking over your words. You decided that it was best to leave the topic alone and switched to something more light-hearted instead.
"What's there in England? Are the ladies… are they pretty?"
You mentally slapped yourself for asking that question. Never ask a question if you didn't want to hear the answer, but it was too late. Timur was smiling and Shuhrat was speechless. You thought to yourself that this would be the time when Timur tells you that Shuhrat had fallen in love with someone pretty, smart, and close to him. This would be the moment your heart shatter.
But he didn't.
"England is nice, but not as good as Russia. They drive on the other side of the road, and I find that very strange. As for the girls… well Shuhrat, why don't you tell her?"
Your heart rose to your throat and you could even feel your footsteps slowing down, waiting for his answer.
"They are different." He said shortly and you spent a long time trying to decipher what he meant by different. Were they taller than you and more attractive than you? They must be… Why else would Shuhrat say so?
"That they are, but your brother has yet to woo one." Timur added and it made you drop a boulder in your heart, "Shuhrat's too frigid for them."
"Speak for yourself, Glazkov. I still remember how you dealt with your romantic advancements."
And with that, Timur fell silent. You looked to him curiously, "You're taken, Timur?"
The blue-eyed Russian smiled at you and answered, "It's a long story, yes."
You smiled back, "I would like to hear it."
The three of you walked until late into the night, and you watched as the streets grew quieter and quieter and the bars louder and louder, a life distant from your own, and one you'd never understand. Sensing your growing fatigue, Shuhrat decided to call it a night and you said your goodbyes before Timur hugged you one more time.
"We'll meet again, take care before then."
You nodded and squeezed the man. Timur was a very likeable guy and it saddened you a little to go. "I would love to see more of your artwork in the future, Timur. Stay safe, alright?"
He chuckled, "I'll paint you new ones, don't worry."
After you parted, you and Shuhrat went home and you did your nightly routine of washing yourself and changing before getting into bed with a book in your hand, planning to read yourself to sleep. Your mind was in a blissful state from all the fun you had today and you felt refreshed that you were able to socialize and genuinely enjoy it.
But of course, there was always one thing on your mind. Shuhrat and what you did earlier in bed. You scanned the passages on the pages, but no words could find root in your mind. You closed the book and waited, thinking to yourself if Shuhrat would join you again, anticipating it, even.
Your eyes lit up when he went through your doorway and gave you a warm smile, "I thought you were tired."
"I am, just… waiting for you." You said, trying to maintain a straight face, but the heat had already crept up your cheeks.
Like usual, he set up his pillow so he could lie in the bed next to you and put his arm around your back. You snuggled into his hold comfortably and draped your arm over his chest, holding him, breathing in his scent and just immersing yourself in this moment. Like always, he rubbed your back and played with your hair, trying to put you to sleep.
Nothing spectacular happened until you heard him said, "You should rest."
You opened your eyes and stared blankly ahead, feeling his chest rise and fall, "Can you turn off the light, Shuhrat?"
He obliged and darkness blinded you. You pressed yourself tightly against him and wondered if he could feel your love, and you wanted him to. As much as you could pretend to be normal during the day, when night comes and you were in his arms again, that's when all the noises in your mind fade away and all your worries disappear, and you thought of no one but him.
You held your breath when he suddenly called you and you stared up in the darkness at his face.
"Everything I do, I do it for you."
You let out a slow sigh and felt tear rushing to your eyes. You knew he did it for you. It took you a while to understand his motivations, but you figured it out. Even so, you wished he could leave it all behind and just stay by your side.
"I know, I just-" You said quietly before he leaned over and kissed you on your lips.
You blanked out, surprised, excited, and caught off guard. A mixture of emotions attacked you when you felt his lips move against yours, and hesitantly you let yourself respond to him, after having a little fight with yourself in your heart. Is this real? You asked yourself. It had to be. Your fingers were in his soft curls and pulling him deeper into the kiss, and you felt his arms hold you against him with such power.
When the kiss ended, before you could ask him why, he brushed his thumb against your cheek and said, "That's for kissing me in the morning."
You let out a short gasp and hid your hot face in his arms, a sudden shame overcame you, knowing that your crime hadn't gone unnoticed. Your heart was going crazy again and you couldn't move at all, becoming completely passive.
"Shuhrat…" You were tongue-tied, trying to understand what you felt about the kiss.
"Now, we are even." He smiled and went back to caressing your back.
"You were awake…" You murmured, still not over the fact that he was aware when you kissed him. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have stopped. Oh my god."
"Don't be upset." He comforted, "I knew you would have stopped. I didn't want you to."
His words were making you blush madly and tears fell from your eyes, a mixture of joy and shock. Could it be that he felt the same for you, all this time?
"I have loved you for so long." You confessed at last and nuzzled into him. "Please… tell me, Shuhrat, tell me this is wrong." You weren't thinking straight, the thoughts and memories of the two of you entangled like your hair in his palm.
"Do you know what hurts me the most?" He asked you, you could feel his calming gaze despite not being able to see his face. "Seeing you sad and broken. It kills me. I wish I can replace all those dark times with something better, but I can't. What I can do is right here, right now, and there's nothing wrong with this."
He had never spoken so much before, almost never about his own feelings. These sincere words touched you and you could finally understand him and his love for you.
"When the fight is done, I want to come back and make you happy." He continued, "I promise."
What did he mean by that? You felt your heart beating at a thousand beats per second and could do nothing other than listen.
"И жизнь хороша́, и жить хорошо́ (And life is good and it is good to be living)." He said with a voice that threatened to make you cry, "So please, my sunshine. Live."
And like that, he reduced you to rubble and built you back up into someone new. It was as if your confusing and conflicting emotions for him were resolved, and the past and present connected, the gaps filled and memories flourished. You had been blind for too long. You hadn't been living for yourself, and that was all he wanted, for you to grow and be happy.
"I will wait for you, Shuhrat." You said to him and wrapped yourself tighter around his body. A pleasant feeling, a warmth, bloomed inside your chest, close to your heart. It felt eternal, and it was beautiful.
(Sorry for the long hiatus! Writer's block came around along with life problems, but everything is cool now. The light is green and we are a go. Next up, a story of you and Glaz ;) )