18. Through The Haze
Through The Haze
Kiri
When Rafe and Kasia check in on us, they freeze for half a second.
Nat’s balled into me like I’m a pillow, my arm already around her.
I brace for questions, maybe a lecture, but all I can offer is a helpless shrug.
Kasia’s face stays neutral, Rafe exhales like he wants to be annoyed but can’t justify it.
They slide the door gently shut on their way out, leaving a small gap like we're a pair of teenagers, of course.
It’s not a long ride back to the hotel, but something in me wants it to last a little longer. My skin prickles, bordering on the edge of panic. I sigh hard and stare at the bus ceiling. Damn.
I know what it takes for me to get over a woman.
Two nights, three at most. A week if she really got under my skin.
The implosion always comes, then Rithy picks me up by the collar and parades distractions in front of me until I’m fine again.
That’s our pattern: he charms, I focus on whatever shiny mistake is next.
We’ve been doing it since the beginning.
His shield. My magician. I'll be fine once she's gone, this is just a temporary distraction.
Then we'll get back to our regularly scheduled bullshit like we always do.
She moves closer, wraps herself against me like I'm somewhere calm, maybe even peaceful. My heart goes off like it’s trying to sound an alarm, my body responding and hardening at the worst possible time.
I try to think of something awful, anything to distract me long enough to stop reaching for her.
Colorful lights from a sign outside sparkle and fade as we pass.
It reminds me of Christmas lights, the kind Ma stopped putting up after he tore them down enough times.
She'd hide our gifts in case he smashed them again.
I still remember the sound of him crashing drunkenly into walls, shouting that we were too spoiled, that we didn't deserve fucking presents.
That memory works. The heat drains out of me, leaving a dull leftover ache.
The bus hits a pothole, and we jolt hard.
I catch her instinctively, holding her tight so she doesn’t roll.
Even so, she stirs, eyes unfocused in the dim neon flicker coming through the tinted windows.
She makes this tiny sound, a sleepy noise like a small animal settling back into its nest. She's so cute it's ridiculous.
Then her hand finds my face. At first it’s gentle, exploratory.
I close my eyes, allowing the feeling of it to wash over me.
Then she uses that touch to pull herself up toward me, to pull me down, into her.
Her fingers grip behind my neck; she leans in with the determination of someone who knows exactly where she wants to be, and kisses me.
Hesitation flashes in the corner of my mind, but it doesn't last long. The part of me that could have stopped this is long gone. Replaced with something raw and needy. I kiss her back, I don't even care about the fact that Rafe or Kasia could come back any second now.
All I see, all I want, is her.
Her mouth is hot against mine, messy and honest, the kind of kiss that makes my pulse go off like a kicked beehive. Wild, confused. When we finally separate, I’m prepared for her to settle back into sleep, but instead she sits up, clumsy but sure, hikes her dress up and swings a leg over my lap.
Shit.
She’s straddling me before I can think, radiating heat through every inch of fabric.
Her hands slide to my waist, fumbling, not coordinated enough to be useful, but purposeful enough that I know exactly where her head is.
One shaky hand drifts toward my belt, and I catch it too late, her fingers hook the metal and leather.
“Nat—” I try, but she’s already leaning in, breath sweet with sake and heartbreak, kissing me like she wants to fast-forward the entire concept.
For one completely stupid second, I give in and my need takes over.
My hands grip her hips. My body answers her before my brain can intervene, seeking the friction we're both chasing, pressing into her as we both stifle a moan. I want her.
Fuck, do I want her.
Then she hiccups. Right in the middle of trying to undo my belt. A startled, squeaky sound, and both of us freeze. Her eyes widen and I choke out a laugh. She tries to glare but ends up laughing too, forehead falling against my shoulder.
The moment breaks just enough for me to get my head back. I move fast, pretending I’m just adjusting our position and in one smooth motion I grab her by the waist, roll her, and lay her on her back against the cushions. She lands with a soft bounce, blinking at me like I’ve teleported her by magic.
Before she can latch onto me again, I slide back, lift her legs, place her feet gently on my thighs, and pull the blanket over her like she’s a drunk princess I’m tucking into bed. She giggles, warm and loose, still absolutely wasted.
Thank God.
Maybe the room will spin enough that she doesn’t try to climb me again. I lean in close, sweeping hair off her forehead. Her eyes flutter, heavy but adoring, the kind of look that could destroy a man if he’s not careful.
“I don’t take advantage of sad, drunk women,” I murmur, brushing my thumb along her temple. “Even when they look this fucking hot and smell so good it’s making me stupid.”
She arches a brow, the drunkest little challenge I’ve ever seen. I shake my head, laughing on the surface, but dying underneath, that face is too much to survive.
“You have no idea how hard it is to say no to you.” I exhale through my nose, looking her over like that might somehow help. It doesn’t. “I don’t know what the hell your mom ate while she was pregnant, but hell. I’ve dated supermodels who didn’t come close.”
Something sparks in her eyes at that. Maybe jealousy, definitely pride, something intense and molten but it flickers out just as fast as the alcohol pulls her under again.
Her chin lifts like she’s about to deliver some cutting, flirtatious comeback…
and then she’s gone. Fast asleep. The bright lights of Tokyo flash across her sleeping face, melting everything that’s already thawing in me.
I can breathe again and fix the belt she almost undid. Fasten what she loosened. I get myself put back together just as the bus slows to a stop. Natalia doesn’t stir. I sit there, staring at her, knowing the night just rewired me in ways I have no idea how to walk back from.
She’s dead weight when I cradle her in my arms, a groggy noise escaping.
I feel every curve of her, every breath against my collarbone as I carry her down the bus steps.
The hallway to the rooms is quiet, the plush white carpet is thankfully muted, ambient lighting in even rows above us.
Natalia’s head lolls on my shoulder, and her fingers hold onto my neck loosely.
Kasia jogs ahead to unlock her room, Rafe hangs back to give us room.
“Here, set her down, let me get the lights.”
“No,” Natalia mutters, though she’s barely conscious. “Bright.”
Kasia flicks on only the entry light, dim enough that shadows soften the room into something safe. I carry her to the bed, ease her down gently, and she sighs peacefully when her head touches the pillow.
Kasia hovers. “Do you need help getting her settled?”
Before I can answer, Natalia squints one eye open. “Go away.”
It’s not rude. It’s just the truth of a drunk, grieving girl who doesn’t want witnesses to whatever might leak out of her. I understand her in more ways than I care to admit.
Kasia hesitates, concerned, but Natalia swats a hand vaguely in the air.
“I’m fine. Go be with Rafe. Love you, siostra,” she mumbles.
Kasia exhales, touches her shoulder, then looks at me.
"I'll get her tucked in, then I'll head back to mine. We've all got a busy day tomorrow." I offer the truth, whether she believes me or not is a roll of the dice.
There’s a question in her eyes, something between trust and fear, but she nods.
She places Natalia's shoes gently by the bed before she steps into the hallway.
The door clicks softly shut. I breathe out, long and quiet.
Natalia is sprawled across the bed now, hair a golden mess, dress rucked up, cheeks flushed from drinking and crying and being braver than anyone should have to be.
It’s just us now. I try to focus on practical things, like grabbing the hotel blanket from the closet, shaking it out.
Something normal. Something that doesn’t require me to confront the warmth growing inside my chest. I drape the blanket over her, smoothing it over her shoulder.
She rolls, murmuring something I can’t hear.
I take a step back toward the door, attempting to sneak out now that I've done what I promised.
“Kiri?”
It’s barely a sound, a breath wrapped in my name. I stop cold. Her eyes are half-open, glassy but pleading.
“Hold me.”
My throat closes. I don’t move, don’t breathe. Then she blinks, fighting through the haze, and whispers again, more certain this time. “Like on the bus. Please? I don't want to be alone."
That tears me open and I let go of the door handle, then turn off the last light and cross the room before I can talk myself out of it.
I slide onto the bed beside her, carefully, gently, like she’s made of glass.
She curls into me instantly, face against my chest, arms tucked against me.
Mine find their way around her and hold her steady until I feel her relax into sleep.
I set an alarm on my watch for four a.m. Enough time to make sure she sleeps.
Enough time to slip out before anyone wakes up and makes this into something messier or harder to hide.
Her breathing settles but mine doesn’t. I close my eyes, just for a moment, letting myself just be here.
Here, with her asleep in my arms and my heart beating so hard it feels like it’s trying to join hers.
I wake up to her mouth on my throat.