25. Nivan, Marcin

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Translator: Schiotka

Editor: Pasadera, JacquelineMonaie

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Nivan

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The same brown eyes in the same frame of dark lashes.

But even he, the emotional cripple, could recognize that Marcin's gaze was different from the morning before, when they'd woken up at the same time under one duvet.

The chocolate-brown gaze wasn't warm anymore...

He wasn't in there.

He felt that he'd lost what he finally managed to have at his fingertips.

Again.

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Marcin looked up at the Redhead. He was sitting on his mattress, his back leaning against the wall.

He was waiting. This time he wasn't going to be the one to start the conversation.

"I want to talk," said Niv, standing in the doorway.

"Good," Marcin replied, crossing his arms over his chest. "Did you understand what I said this morning?"

Nivan clenched his teeth. He didn't appreciate being spoken to that way.

"I can assure you that I am not stupid. But I will not keep quiet about what I thought of your theatrics yesterday."

"And what is it that you want to tell me?" Marcin asked, narrowing his eyes dangerously. "That I didn't have the right to hit you? That I didn't have the right to hit MY ex, who you fucked, by the way? That I left you to clean up the mess? That I didn't pick up my phone? Yes, Nivan, it is very possible that I didn't have the right to do any of that. So what? Believe me, I felt enormous satisfaction in getting even with you like that."

"Marcin..."

"Don't you dare 'Marcin' me now," Mazur continued with the same cold tone. "You didn't have the right to fuck my ex. But who cares? You wanted to, so you did. Just like I wanted to make you feel like a pile of shit. And I really am not interested in knowing whether you knew I was with Kres at the time. I really don't fucking care. I don't want to go into the details and be reminded of it. I want to lead a normal life. To fucking live in the fucking present."

Nivan felt angry.

He wasn't sure exactly why.

Because of Marcin's tone? Or because of the bitter words he used?

Or maybe because nothing was going the way he wanted...

"Today there is just one thing I want from you, Nivan. Is there anything else I should know? Something that could disturb the oh-so-peaceful and harmonious future of us fucking together?"

"Don't be pretentious, Marcin."

"I asked you some questions."

Nivan had only witnessed such an attitude a couple of times. It reminded him of how Marcin behaved when they first met at the uni.

Insolent. Confident. Audacious.

He'd thought it was some kind of cover he was hiding behind.

A mask he was slipping on...

He wasn't prepared for that Marcin.

He wasn't ready to share with him the things he was doing. The things he used to do.

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