32. Chapter 32 #2
“Try,” he said, already stepping to the side and opening his arms like this was a demonstration and not an attack on my dignity.
Sasha immediately reached over and pushed the barrel down. “No.”
Kyrill smirked faintly. “You see? He knows.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re both insufferable.”
“We’re just trying to help, baby.”
“This feels personal.” My gaze bounced between them.
“It is,” Kyrill said. “You are insulting my eyes.”
“Your eyes?” I furrowed my brows. “What is that even supposed to mean?”
“My eyes,” he repeated, gesturing vaguely toward the target. “I have to look at this.”
I turned to the paper target. There were holes, alright. Just … not where they were supposed to be.
“It’s abstract,” I said.
“It is tragic.”
Sasha exhaled slowly, as though he was deciding whether to intervene or let Kyrill carry on being so obnoxious.
“Why is he even here? Can’t you just teach me?”
Kyrill snorted and looked at Sasha, raising his eyebrows. “Yeah, why am I here?”
“Give it to him,” he said finally.
I frowned. “Give what to— oh.”
The gun.
“Be nice,” Sasha warned him. “This was your idea as much as mine.”
Wait, what?
“I am always nice.”
Sasha made a quiet sound suggesting this was far from the truth.
“I am also better shot,” Kyrill continued. “This is why I’m here. Your boyfriend knows I can teach you better than he can.”
Sasha clenched his jaw. “Allegedly.”
Kyrill scoffed and held out his hand, fingers flexing slightly in a silent well?
I handed it over, after which Kyrill stepped forward and rolled his shoulders once before lifting the gun with an effortless familiarity impossible to miss.
This was his element.
His posture shifted and everything about him sharpened into something precise and controlled. The laziness disappeared. The boredom evaporated.
All that remained was danger. It was palpable and uncompromising.
He fired.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Each shot was clean and controlled, hitting the exact spot on the target.
When he stepped back, I could only stare in awe.
“That was annoyingly skilled.” I huffed.
He handed the gun back without looking at me. “Again.”
I narrowed my eyes. “You’re enjoying this.”
“A little.”
Oh my God, were we bonding?
I stepped back into position, adjusting my stance as Sasha had shown me earlier.
“Relax your shoulders,” Sasha instructed.
“I am relaxed.”
“You’re not.”
“I would be,” I replied, gesturing vaguely behind me, “if there wasn’t a six-foot-something distraction hovering in my personal space.” I made a general gesture at his body.
Kyrill made a noise suspiciously sounding like a snigger. “You talk too much.”
“I think out loud.”
“You think badly.”
“That’s subjective.”
“It is fact.”
Sasha sighed. “Both of you — focus.”
I took a breath, adjusted my grip, aimed and fired. The shot rang out, echoing into the trees.
We all looked at the target.
There was a pause.
“… I hit it,” I said, my eyes wide with disbelief.
“You hit near it,” Kyrill corrected.
I threw my hands up. “Oh, come on! It counts.”
“Does not.”
I turned to him. “You’re a bully.”
“I don’t coddle.” He shrugged his massive shoulders.
I stared at him for a second longer, my lips pursed.
“You’re growing on me,” I decided.
This took him by surprise. His expression didn’t change much, but I caught a brief, almost imperceptible flicker.
Kyrill quirked a brow at me. “Why?”
“Because you’re honest. And you clearly care more than you pretend to.”
Sasha went very still behind me and Kyrill’s gaze snapped to mine. For a split second, something shifted, but it was gone just as quickly.
“You don’t know anything,” he said, his voice growing colder.
Ah.
And to your left you can see Exhibit A — the classic emotionally unavailable man.
“Okay,” I chirped back.
Sasha’s hand tightened slightly at my waist, in a silent warning.
Kyrill’s eyes narrowed as he stuffed another smoke between his lips. “You ask too many questions.”
“I’ve been told that. Frequently.”
There was a pause while we sized each other up.
“You are really not afraid,” he observed.
It wasn’t a question.
“No.”
He studied me like he was trying to figure out if it was stupidity or something else.
Smoke poured out of his mouth as he spoke. “You should be.”
“Of you?”
“Yes.”
I tilted my head. “Are you going to hurt me?”
“No.”
“Then I think we’re fine.”
Sasha exhaled quietly behind me, like he had been waiting to see how this would play out. Kyrill looked at me for another second. Then he shook his head slightly, almost to himself.
“You are problem,” he muttered.
“I’ve also been told that.”
This time, the corner of his mouth twitched.
“Again,” he said, nodding toward the target.
I smiled. “Yes, sir.”
He rolled his eyes but he didn’t correct me.
We stayed until it was dark, the heat easing off and the air cooling down enough to breathe properly. By the end, my aim was still questionable, but it was an improvement on catastrophic.
Kyrill leaned against one of the posts and lit a cigarette. The glow briefly illuminated the sharp angles of his face.
Sasha stood beside me, his arm brushing mine, solid and steady.
I glanced toward Kyrill. “So … Are you always like this, or is this a special occasion thing?”
He exhaled smoke slowly. “Like what.”
“Tall, terrifying, and deeply judgmental.” I made a circular motion with my hand.
He considered that, then shrugged. “Yes.”
“That’s predictable at least.” I grinned.
Sasha’s hand slid to the small of my back, pulling me closer. “That’s enough for today.” Kyrill flicked his cigarette into the dirt, crushing it under his boot.
“Tomorrow,” he said, “we try again.”
I groaned.
But somewhere in the quiet, shifting darkness, I had the feeling this might be the beginning of something resembling a friendship between Kyrill and me.