From the personal diary of Andrei Petrov
Day 350
It's been almost a year since we were married.
Married.
I still sometimes test the way it sounds on my tongue, Alice would think I was finally losing every shred of sanity I have left—then again, who knows if I'm even capable of being sane.
God knows most of us are teetering on the edge of it most days, and most days, I find I can't focus without at least seeing her smile.
She crept so far into my soul that I can't see where I end and she begins, all I know it is us, together, forever.
I'm watching her now like I always do at night.
Her plan was to domesticate me, and because I love her. I let her move us into a house that looks like it should be surrounded by nothing but rainbows and chocolate chip cookies.
I prefer the dark.
But she prefers the light.
So here I am, in a house that looks like it came out of a Christmas catalog and watching my wife knit me a scarf.
She thinks I like them.
I don't have the heart to tell her no.
Instead, I wear them and then flip off Tex every single time he sees me in them and shoots me a shit-eating grin.
This life is hard.
It's why she made me start writing in a diary, like some pre-teen girl.
Get out my anger, Alice said.
Put my fears on paper.
But she doesn't know, that makes it more real to me, it brings me to a place in my head that I can rarely escape, a place where only blood and screams exist.
It's been almost a year, and right now we're in the middle of a war I'm not sure I can win.
Everyone is in danger, my heart included.
She thinks I don't see the way she touches her stomach every so often, just like she thinks I haven't noticed her lack of appetite.
I could not bear it.
I will not bear it.
I will not bring a child into warfare, and yet, the secret she will never know… I want to bring life into this world only to prove that I have something else to offer that isn't reeking of death, filled with horror, screams, blood.
So selfishly, I want this child. Just to prove to my own soul that I'm capable of doing something good, when I know, the reflection in the mirror is nothing but evil teetering on the edge of survival and goodness—my wife being my only tether to the light when I so desperately want to default to the dark.
Having my sister back should make me feel better, it just puts a bigger target on our backs.
I will protect my family the way my father did not.
No more pawns.
But blood will be shed.
And if I have to hunt before I am to be hunted.
I will kill every last soul that comes after what's mine.
I will—
"Andrei?" Alice called, looking up from her knitting.
I forced a smile and looked up. "Yes, Dobroveya?"
"What do you think?" She held up something I'm assuming was a scarf but looked smaller than what would fit around my neck.
"Perfect." I lied, I had no idea what the hell she was even holding up, pink was everywhere. I tapped my pen against my thigh and watched her face break out into a beautiful smile that had me setting down my things, getting up, and walking over to her.
"You don't even know what it is, do you?"
"Sure I do," I leaned down and pressed a hot kiss against her mouth. Then whispered. "Another scarf. A girl scarf."
"Right." She trembled beneath my touch.
I licked the seam of her lips again and slid my tongue past the boundary of her lower lip, tasting her, owning her with each draw against her mouth. "Mine."
"Always." She wrapped her arms around my neck and stood. "Why do you think I'd make you a pink scarf?"
"To humble me." I grinned slowly as her eyes narrowed. "Or are we expecting something… pink, perhaps?"
Her face lit up. "Perhaps?"
"Mmmm, maybe something… small and pink?"
"Maybe."
"You bought a puppy?" I teased with the most stoic expression I could manage, which only made her face fall. I used to be able to do better, to hold the bored expression longer, but I didn't want her feelings to be hurt. "Is my beautiful wife pregnant?"
She let out a gasp. "I wanted to tell you in a fun way, and then the outfit wasn't really working so I tried to change it into mittens and then–"
I silenced her with another kiss, then pulled her into my arms and swung her around. "I think it's absolutely perfect. But what if it's a boy?"
"I thought about that."
"Did you now?"
"Yup," She scrunched up her nose. "I figured that any God that can put up with this whole mafia life would most likely curse you with a loud, crazy girl who wants a pony at six and kisses her first boy at seven."
I felt my entire body still. "Then that fucking boy will be strung up by his—
She clapped a hand over my mouth and burst out laughing. "See?"
All I saw was rage. "That's not funny. No boy or man will ever touch what's mine… ever."
I gripped her ass and pulled her hard against me.
She just nodded and rested her cheek against my chest. "It's going to be okay, right? We're going to be okay? And get through this?"
"Yes." I swallowed the lie. "We are."
"Good." She shuddered. "Good."
"I swear on my life I will keep you safe." Even if it meant my own demise, I would keep them safe.
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