Emperor of Mayhem

11

________

Filip said I was an open book, a bad liar who couldn't lie to save the world if she had to. And to be honest, there was not an atom of lies there. I would think I had put my wittiness to use and crafted a perfectly good lie only for it to end up sounding like the truth twisted a little bit; like an upside down lie.

I was a terrible liar. It wasn't even debatable.

So instead of saying anything in reply to Mr Varkov's question and end up making him more angry by lying, because definitely, I didn't plan on mentioning anybody's name, I just sat there trembling, my lips sealed shut, even though his dark gaze made me want to open up and start confessing.

I watched with bated breath as his eyes turned more icy by the second, so cold I felt it chilling my bones. His jaws aligned themselves in a line so hard and sharp it would effortlessly cut through a diamond.

"Stop the fucking car." His command came as a low growl, leaving no room for objections, and the poor driver didn't waste more than two seconds to dive out of the lane to park the car.

My breath hitched in my throat when he dragged air into his lungs, cold eyes still holding me in its wicked clutches, and I didn't dare to look away. I couldn't even look away.

"Azania," my name rolled off his tongue like fine wine, tinted with rage.

"Y-yes, Mr Varkov," I replied in a whispery tone, so timid I disgusted myself for sounding so weak as I drifted closer to the door until my back pressed against it.

"Who hurt you?" He asked again.

"N-no one, Mr Varkov." I stuttered, his piercing eyes that seemed to see way too deep into my soul sending shivers down my spine, "No one hurt me."

He sighed harshly, running his hand across his rough stubbles, his eyes diverting from me to look out the window before those pairs fell on me again, and this time, so intense I just wanted the ground to open up and swallow me whole.

"Azania." He dragged the vowel and I shivered again.

"No one hurt me. I'm serious."

I may have been proven to be pretty bad at lying. But this was Mr Varkov we were talking about. He lived in anger almost like cartoon characters do. So lost in that moment of rage, a human being could appear as a little bug to him.

He would crush Filip into tiny pieces, the poor guy who wasn't even at fault. It wasn't as though I told him I had a crush on him. And even if I did, it wasn't an obligation that he must be mine.

"Azania." he growled, his free hand grabbing my chin roughly, bringing my face closer to his, sharp nails digging into my flesh but not enough to scar, "In case you haven't noticed, I am a man with quite the temper. Little pressure makes me lose my shit. And you know how nasty I can get when pissed." Hot breath slapped against my face as he spoke, "So, be wise and don't leave any stone unturned, little one."

Then he leaned away suddenly, and my eyes widened when his hand went into the jacket attached to the back of the passenger seat, pulling out a silver gun.

"I'm gonna be generous and ask again, Azania," he cocked the gun, "Who made you cry?"

"I'm telling the truth, Mr Varkov," I uttered in a shaky voice, my heart beating out of my chest at the sight of my familiar friend sitting on his hand, ready to take another life, "No one hurt me. Something got into my eyes at school, I swear."