The Scared God [ManXManXMan]

Chapter Fourteen: Тоска - Toska

[WARNING: Minor panic attack and minor depressive episode.]

~Chapter Fourteen: Тоска– Toska~

By the time Perun returns to the house, I have already returned to my room. Dinner will be soon, but I want to have a few minutes to myself before going back down there and facing the inevitable mealtime silence. While I doubt it will feel as horrible as before, as I will cling to the hope Jarylo left in his wake, that does not mean I am looking forward to it.

After lingering in the middle of the room for a few minutes, unable to focus on any one idea or thought before something else takes its place, I walk into my bathroom and splash some cold water on my face. It does little to quiet my mind, but the chill does allow me a moment of distraction. When I look up into the mirror after drying off my face with a hand towel, all I see is eye circles and pale skin.

No wonder Jarylo didn't believe me when I said I was fine...

Looking away in disgust at my pitiful appearance, I dry my hands and leave the bathroom. With nowhere else to go, I sit on the side of my bed, hand sliding under my pillow almost subconsciously until I locate the pocket watch. As soon as my fingers brush against the cold metal, I pull it out of its hiding spot. However, I hesitate to actually open it.

Before Jarylo's visit, I had begun to think about finding a way to shorten the time, to force Perun to prove me right. However, now that something has actually happened and there is a very real chance it changed something, I am afraid to even look at the date. If there is a new time, what are the chances that I will not see Jarylo again until my next revive?

I contemplate just putting the pocket watch back and forgetting about it until at least after dinner, but I end up hesitating with my hand halfway under the pillow. There have been multiple situations that have done little to nothing to change the time; why should this one be any different? Using my momentary confidence to my advantage, I quickly take it back out from under the pillow and flip it open. Twenty-two days, thirteen hours, and forty-three minutes.

Dread chills me to the bone, but splotchy patches of heat start to blossom in my stomach and face, making me feel nauseous. It's less than half of what it used to be.

I inhale sharply, feeling the onset of panic building in my chest, but a knock on my door encourages me to stop it before it can turn into another attack. Later. "Dinner is ready," Hors calls through the wood, and then goes back downstairs.

I could just skip dinner, as I no longer feel hungry, but that would just raise questions that I do not want to answer. They might let me get away with skipping a single meal in the wake of Jarylo's departure, but there is also a very high chance they might not, and I would rather not be dragged down there when I could save my pride by heading to the kitchen myself.

Taking a deep breath, I leave my room and walk down to the kitchen, keeping my expression carefully neutral. If either of them notices anything, they do not mention it, nor do they mention anything else as dinner is served. A small part of me had hoped that, with Jarylo's visit, they might feel compelled to talk about him and his sudden arrival, to prove my theory about their silence being a slight against me wrong.

Instead, my theory is only proven further.

Something thick and unpleasant settles in the back of my throat, making it uncomfortable to swallow the usually amazing golubtsy. The cooked cabbage refuses to stay down, and, while a sip of water helps, I nearly end up choking on it. My poorly-concealed gag from the feeling of the cabbage sliding down my throat that follows the close call draws Perun's and Hors' attention.