The language fades away. I simply look at the Saint and can't squeeze a single drop of emotion out of myself. After tears of emptiness, and now this... But I must admit — it suits him. Right now, I see a different Vlad, the one who is interested in me, not the cold man in a suit behind the wheel of a matte sports car. Right now, in front of me is a cheerful guy, not a grown man.
My breath quickens. I desperately want to agree, but I'm scared. I've never ridden a motorcycle before.
— Don't be afraid, Yuliana. — he says firmly and pierces me with his gaze. Black eyelashes beautifully accentuate his eyes...
— I'm not afraid, — I pout.
The Saint smiles. Cheerful and sly at the same time.
— Then get on.
— Why? — I breathe rapidly. My heart beats fast and wildly.
— My Timid Fawn, — it sounds so gently that I instantly melt. The words touch the wounds in my heart, inflicted by him. — Why live if you don't feel the thrill?
— I didn't know artists were also philosophers, — I mumble.
— Artists see the world differently, you know that yourself. Are you getting on?
"Yes. I'm getting on. With you, even to the ends of the earth, even with a broken heart..."
I approach the motorcycle. I sit behind Vlad and wrap my arms around his waist. He tightens his grip on my hands and lazily says:
— Press against me, Yuliana.
I do what he asks and lay my cheek against his back. Vlad tears off from the spot with a wild roar. Out of fear and exhilaration, I scream with all my might, and he... He laughs. It's the most beautiful sound I've heard up to this moment. So joyful, so determined, so genuine, as if he’s someone completely different... not just Vlad the Saint, but my partner, a close person who loves to share moments only with me.
The metal beast, paired with Vlad, doesn’t just ride — it flies. Trees, fields, meadows — they whiz by in blurred patches. The road is perfectly smooth, as if it was made for such thrill. The speed is insane. The wind yanks the hair tie from my hair and billows it in all directions. Strands cover my face, falling right over my eyes, while others soar upward as if reaching for something higher. I grip the Saint's waist tighter and scream at the top of my lungs: from exhilaration, emotions I haven’t felt until today. The first sensation of true, crazy ecstasy. My subconscious knows — it’s dangerous. Death waits if Vlad makes a wrong move. And it’s this that makes my blood boil.
He gradually slows down and stops near a small pond. It peeks unexpectedly from behind a hill, not hidden by the forest, just a few isolated fir trees casting shadows. The water is crystal clear, the sky reflects bluish clouds, and the sun sparkles on the surface like gold.
I silently get off the motorcycle and survey the surroundings. Delight touches my heart with a thin thread of emotion. I would paint everything I see — the picture before my eyes is so joyful and cheerful. I’m sure the painting would warm the soul of everyone who looked at it...
— Weren't you scared? — Vlad removes his leather cut-off gloves from his hands, which I hadn’t noticed before, and places them on the motorcycle's handlebars.
— Scared, — I admit. — And joyful.
He hums. Slowly walks towards the pond. I follow him. The scent of his body still lingers in my nose. It’s strange that even here he smells of luxury and paints, but now I understand where the taste of forest danger in these fragrances comes from.
— Do you love water? — he asks.
I look at the Saint in surprise. His gaze is fixed on the lake, his hands tucked into his pockets, his posture relaxed. I think in this place, he finds rest and recharges from everything happening in the city.
— Probably.
— Probably? — he arches an eyebrow and turns to me. His blue eyes look scrutinizing and firm. — And swimming?
I shake my head. My hair, now completely dry, spreads across my back.
I can’t swim. I’ve never tried. I’ve never been to rivers or on a vacation where swimming was necessary.
— Then I suggest learning, — he says softly.
— Can we here?...
The Saint hums.
— This is my lake. We can.
— Yours? — I ask in astonishment.
— Yes, the whole road we took, the fields, the forests — it’s mine and Timur’s, to be precise.
— Oh...
Then I don’t understand why he needs “AMB” shares if he has so much land that probably brings income. It's definitely not about the money.
While I ponder the brothers' decisions that are unclear to me, Vlad is already taking off his pants and is left in just his boxers. I miss the moment when he approaches, only registering when he lifts me up, laughs, and runs toward the water. Out of panic, I grab his neck with my hands and scream: exhilaration mixed with fear. But the Saint doesn’t stop. He literally plunges into the water, soaking my clothes, and once reaching the depth, he spins me around so that I wrap my legs around his waist, while I continue to cling to his neck with my hands.
Our faces are close. The tips of our noses touch. Drops of transparent water on our skin. Eyes locked onto each other. It feels like my heart will stop from emotions at this moment.
— Will you kiss me? — he asks hoarsely.
And I… I choke on those words. Not long ago, he shattered me into pieces, and now he asks me to kiss him. Not long ago, he commanded me to live but remember that our marriage is only a fiction. And now he holds my hips and looks into my eyes as if my consent depends on his life.
I know it’s a mistake. Again a mistake, again with him. But I can’t refuse. Because I want to kiss him. I want to feel the power flowing into my soul like a healing elixir. That’s why I kiss the Saint with all the fervor and desire I’m capable of. This isn’t the timid, fear-filled kiss of him at home. This is different. With it, I show my shattered heart, my hunger, my desire for him to be mine, for him to love me as I have fallen for him... With it, I want to make him belong only to me, even though I’ve never been greedy. But not with Vlad... With him, I become someone else. With him, despite all the difficulties, I change, I feel...