I went to the shower room -- Sasha had been in the shower for a good ten minutes already. I slightly shifted the curtain and popped my head in. He was still half green. The goddamned paint wasn't easy to clean, at all. "Need some help?" I stepped in without waiting for an answer. The cool water soaked me in seconds.
Sasha let out a loud sigh as he energetically rubbed his chest. "It doesn't go."
I couldn't help hugging him from behind. There was something about the kid, something that changed everything. "Are you okay? Huh?"
A chill went down his spine, making him shake a bit. "I don't know." He let his head rest on my shoulder, his throat carelessly exposed. Trust. "I can't help thinking. Have I ever had a choice? Or has my life always been, you know, a railroad of sorts?"
I smiled at the silly idea. "There's always a choice, isn't it? But, does an addict have a choice? Sure he can quit. But can he? … I'm not the one holding you here, am I? You know, our work is like a drug."
"There's no way out, is there?"
"Well, I can offer you a way out, Sasha. For real. But, do you want it?"
"It always--"
I cut him off, knowing too well where he was going. Same place as always. "I'm not her. I wouldn't do the same. Wouldn't bring you back. Do you really want out? Just say it."
"No, I don't."
I couldn't help smiling sadly. "It's not about work, is it? It was her who pulled you back, not the work. And now this is about me."
He didn't say anything.
"You're completely nuts, Sasha."
He smiled softly. "Look who's talking."
"Do you think you can trust me?" In a split second, I grabbed his forehead with my left hand. The right quickly drew the knife in my pocket, gently letting the edge rest against his throat.
He couldn't hide a slight shudder. "You know I'm trusting you with my life."
I couldn't help sighing. "You like this, don't you?"
He managed to nod, softly enough to not get cut. "You still don't get it, do you? … Well, I tried my best to explain. I can't do better."
"All I understood was that you're completely nuts, kid. Say. Ask for it."
He didn't hesitate, didn't think twice. "Kill me."
Shit. It would have been a welcome change, if this was about a job, and not about his goddamned life. I let the knife slide across his throat. Sharp enough to graze into the skin and draw some blood. It promptly got washed away by the now warmer shower.
He clenched his teeth to bear the pain, but said nothing. Knowing well I could, knowing well I wouldn't.
I turned him around like a puppet, shaking my head. Not really in disbelief, just... Shit, the kid was a complete nutcase.
He looked at me, like only he does. Everything in his expression told me he wouldn't have minded. He'd rather die than leave. "What did you expect. What do you want."
I couldn't help smiling as I caressed his cheek. "You know what I want. Your soul. Say it."
Something appeared in his eyes as he took a breath. Determination. "I've told you. Take me. Take my soul. Don't you ever let me go."
Shit. I hugged him again. Hard. "I won't. I swear it."
He hugged harder. He meant every single word. Shit.
"Wait a sec, will you?" I finally let go of his arms and ran to the shower room closet. Good thing we were in the upper floor one. It being so close to my office meant nobody would freak out at the closet's contents. I found some handcuffs in one of the drawers. I threw them at Sasha. "You know what to do."
"Why not do it yourself, huh?" He teased me.
I couldn't help smirking. "You know why. Also, I'm still searching for something." … Something I quickly found.
He was fumbling with the handcuffs – the first hand held properly in place. Yet the shower head was a bit high for him to reach and lock the second cuff. I reached up and helped him – locking him for good. There was a hint of apprehension –of fear– in his eyes. It's not like he could beat me even in a fair fight. But I guess there's always something unsettling about not having any kind of chance.
He sighed in annoyance when he saw the neon green rag I had brought.
"Hey, you're still greenish." I laughed, before gently cleaning him. The soft rag did wonders – there wasn't even a need for a harsh soap. The silence that ensued wasn't uncomfortable. I'm guessing he was simply trying to feel something, and I was honestly too busy trying to get the green paint off. I finished and went to leave the rag back in its place.
"I hope you don't think that was funny." Yet there was a slight smile in his voice. I came back to meet his eyes. Fiery. Yes, he thought it was actually funny.
I caressed his cheek again, this time getting almost too close to him. You too deserve niceness, kid. "What do you want, Sasha."
His voice was almost a whisper. "I want more. Of everything."
I let my hand run down his chest, playfully teasing him, before letting myself fall to my knees.
He stopped me. "You don't have to."
I couldn't help laughing. "Funny. That's the same thing I told you the first time you did this, remember?"
He sighed. "You know it's not the same."
"Maybe I too want to be nice, you know. You deserve it, don't you think?"
"You really don't have to do this, Andrei."
I got on my feet again. I grabbed his chin, forcing him to look into my eyes. "Ask for it."
"Why are you doing this. I'm telling--"
I cut him off, the knife again against his throat. "Ask. For. It."
He sighed yet again. "Okay. Okay, do it."
The knife fell with a muted thud as I knelt again, and went down on him.
