VII

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"Come with me," he says all of a sudden while we're laying on his bed watching some random film on the small screen of his laptop.

"What?" I don't get what he's driving at.

"I said come with me. You know I have to go back to Moscow eventually, my whole life is there, I built it with my own hands."

"You did, didn't you," I laugh humourlessly, "You built yourself a nice little life over there, without me."

"Don't fucking start with this bullshit, Sash," he tells me exasperatedly. I don't give a fuck, bastard.

"Start with what bullshit exactly? Telling the truth?" I can't help the bitterness in my voice. It has consumed my whole body a long time ago. "Either way you must be out of your fucking mind if you think I'd go anywhere with you."

"Is there any reason why?" he sounds frustrated while running his hand over his hair.

"Don't play dumb, Maximilian. I don't trust you. And if that's not a good enough reason for you then I don't give a shit. I also have a life, and it's right here in this shitty city, whether I like it or not."

"It doesn't have to be this way," he sighs heavily before pulling out a pack of cigarettes with a lighter out of the bedside drawer.

"Don't fucking dare smoking indoors, Max," I tell him irritated. I feel like a time bomb ready to explode at any moment.

"Or what, Sasha? Tell me what exactly are you going to do about this?" he mocks before lighting the cigarette and blowing out a thick cloud of smoke.

I watch him for a good minute. How did we end up this way? When did everything go so wrong? I have no more fight left in me.

"Nothing," I give up and start getting dressed. Coming here was a mistake. Why are you so damn stupid, Sasha?

He doesn't stop me when I'm at his door, slowly tying my shoelaces. Say something, Max. Please, just say anything and I'll stay.

Silence. I head to the lift and try not to fall apart from all the pain that's clawing me from the inside.

"Fuck this shit," I hear his angry whisper before he grabs my shoulders from behind and slams my body against his.

"You're not fucking going anywhere when you're upset with me," he holds me tightly in his arms.

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