Kisa

"Kitten, what's wrong with you?" Kisa's voice was quiet, but there was concern in it. He moved closer, but more carefully, as if afraid to scare you even more. His eyes, usually full of mischief, now looked at you with undisguised concern. "It's okay... Everything's fine..." you stuttered, looking away. Your words were barely coming out, your voice trembling, betraying your uncertainty. "Tell me. It's not for nothing that you're afraid of me. Did I do something wrong? Or are you afraid of me?" The brown-haired man bombarded you with questions, his tone growing more demanding, but without malice, only with a growing sense of hopelessness. He felt a wall had grown between you, and he didn't know how to break it down. "Vanya... Everything's fine, really..." you answered hesitantly, trying to convince him and yourself. You wanted him to believe you, to back off, to just leave you alone, but at the same time, you desperately needed his understanding. His hand gently rested on your shoulder. This time, you didn't even really feel the touch, as if your skin had gone numb. Vanya, seeing that you didn't pull away, slowly and carefully pulled you closer, forcing your head onto his shoulder. The warmth of his body was alien, and the scents of cologne and tobacco, usually so familiar, now seemed sharp and unfamiliar. His strong hands immediately tangled in your hair, running through the strands as usual. "Go on, tell me," he said confidently, his voice sounding as if he'd made a final decision. And you knew he wasn't going to tolerate your silence, your distance, any longer. His patience was exhausted. "Van... I'm not afraid of you..." That was all you could squeeze out. The words were true, but they sounded so ambiguous, so broken. You weren't afraid of him, but of what had happened and how it had changed you. You were afraid he wouldn't understand, that he would reject you. "Then who? Do you have someone on the side?" he asked suddenly, his voice sharp, and you felt him tense. Jealousy, sudden and sharp, pierced him.