From Lukov with Love

by Mariana Zapata

Someone was knocking on my forehead. And that someone was Ivan. Ivan who was leaning over me, his fist held just a couple inches away...

Instead, I was in my room, under the covers, having my forehead used as a bongo drum by someone who was clearly enjoying it.

Those glacier eyes stayed locked on me, his facial expression still a happier one than I ever would have bet on.

I’d swear on my life, Ivan flashed a smile so quick, it was there and then it was gone.

Ugh. “Bitch,” I whispered. He beamed at me, literally beamed, fully aware that we both knew his threat wasn’t in vain. Not at all. Not even a little bit. “You ready then?”

Ivan gave me a microscopic smile, his fingers coming back to touch my forehead with the backs of them, gentle, gentle, gentle.

Ivan flipped his hand over and touched my cheek with the tips of those cold fingers.

“You want another wet towel for your head?” “No,” I answered before adding, “thank you.” That got me another little smile.

“You want anything?” “To feel better.” “You’ll be better tomorrow,” he said. “I have to.” He rolled those brigh...

“There’s some soup for you downstairs.” I couldn’t stop the frown from coming onto my face. “You made it?” “Don’t look at me like I’m trying to poison you. If...

He grazed my forehead with the tip of his finger. “Your brother’s husband brought it over.” Now that time, I did smile, thinking of sweet, wo...

“He’s the best.” That made him blink. “You think somebody’s the best?” “He is,” I said. “My mom is too. So is my sister, Ruby. My sister Tali when she isn’t having girl problems.” I thought about it and swallowed again. “Lee’s pretty cool. My brothers are too, I guess. Aaron’s great. He can be on the list too.”

“Anyone else on the list?” he asked after an awkward second while I’d been thinking about my dad. “No.”

“I’ve won two gold medals.” “You don’t say,”

“Not one. Two. A few world championships too.” “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Some people think I’m the best.”

“I mean… I guess you’re pretty cool too.” Those ebony eyebrows went up. “You guess?”

“I guess. Your skating is pretty good. And you’ve been really nice to me today. Yesterday. I don’t even know what day it is,” I mumbled. “You can be on the list too, if you’re going to make it awkward.” “Don’t sound so excited.”

“You are the best,” I told him, sounding about as weak as I felt, “at pairs skating.” Something landed softly on my head as he snickered, and I figured he was resting his head or cheek on top of mine. “Thanks for making sure to clarify that.”

“You’ve been a good friend to me so far, but I really only have your sister to compare you to.”

shifting in his spot beside me, before slipping his arm over my shoulder unexpectedly. It wasn’t like I was going to complain. It was warm and heavy, and I liked the way it ...

“She used to let me borrow her clothes before she grew eight inches and left me behind. But she can’t pick me up like you do...

“You’ve got a point, Meatball. I’m easier to look at though.” I couldn’t help the snort that I instantly regretted. “You’re s...

“Now I definitely can’t leave you, if that’s what will happen if I do,” he whispered. I snickered.

“You can go now if you want.” “No, it’s only five, Meatball,” he replied. “I’ve got hours. It’s fine.” “I’m sure you have better things to do.”

The arm over my shoulder went down, and Ivan’s hand went to my shoulder, cupping it before going up and down my upper arm, one stroke up, one stroke down. “Be quiet and go back to sleep, all right?”

“You really don’t have to stay,” I repeated myself again as exhaustion weighed heavy on my eyes, trying to give him an opening. He sighed, and I sensed him shaking his head. “Nobody else is going to take as good care of you as I will.”

Something warm touched my mouth later, and I’d swear I heard, “Drink it, baby,” whispered to me.

Ivan’s familiar hand stroked my hair, my arm, my wrist, lingering there.

“I’ll be here in the morning,” he said, something warm and damp touching my forehead so lightly and quickly, I thought I might have imagined it.

Something else touched my forehead, and I sighed an, “Okay, Vanya.” Then, I rolled over and went back to sleep.

He ignored my borderline rude words and smiled.

His fingertip came at my face so fast I didn’t get a chance to move out of the way before he poked me on the forehead.

Casting a side-look at Ivan, I found him still sitting on my bed… watching me. I sighed, and he raised his eyebrows again.

“I haven’t told you because it’s none of your business!” “You’re my business! So this is my business!”

“Choose, baby. Me or your brothers.”

A flicker of a baby smile flashed across his face before it disappeared like he remembered that he was mad at me.

“She moves around too much in the car. She doesn’t know how to sit still.” He glanced at me. “Like someone I know.”

His snicker made me smile from how insulted he was.

There was a pause. “I’m a catch.” “A catch and release.”

We went “OOOOOOOOH” so deep and into it, totally unexpected, that it lasted maybe three seconds before we both burst out laughing, my head crying no at the movement and my back aching, but I did it anyway.

But it made me laugh. And it made him laugh.

And I still muttered, “Asshole,” even as I laughed to myself, head pounding and all that mess, but smiling. “Eat shit.” “Got you,” he chuckled, that mouth of his split wide into a smile so big it was like his face couldn’t handle it.

“Shut up,” I responded, shaking my head. “You’re a pain in the ass.” He laughed. “That’ll never get o...

I couldn’t help it, I laughed again, and then Ivan did too, but I caught him sneaking glances over in my direction twice, a smile pasted on that pale...

“What are you looking at?” I asked him, unsure why he kept glancing over and not liking it. The smile on his face didn’t go anywhere as he replied, “You.” “Why?” He looked at me every day. “Because.” Was there something...

Ivan was still smiling as he said, “You’re probably the least fake person I know, Meatball. Jesus. I like your laugh, even if it sounds a little scary.” I blinked. “Scary?” “You sound like a psycho when you laugh, all heh, heh, heh, heh.”

“What am I supposed to sound like? Hehehe?” He was still grinning. “No. Your heh, heh is just like you, and don’t ever laugh like that again. That’s creepy. I might have nightmares tonight from it. God. You sound like a possessed doll or something laughing from a dark corner, waiting for me to go to sleep.” I couldn’t help but laugh again, even though my head hurt.

“Look, I don’t want anyone worrying. Everyone has enough stress in their lives, nobody needs me to add more to it. I can’t… I won’t stop living my life and wearing whatever I want to wear or don’t want to wear because of other people being assholes. I hate that I let it bother me as much as I do and did, to begin with.”

“If I need help, I’ll ask.” The laugh that came out of him was a sharp one. A fake one. One that said he knew I was full of multi-layered shit.