Other times, when he thinks his mind gets too out of control, he takes the pills and they’re…well, I don’t like them. They kill the light in his eyes and turn him into a lethargic zombie who moves like a robot, talks with no intonation, and refuses to leave the house. He doesn’t smile, not even at me, and looks fucking depressed.
I immediately took his dad’s side on that and told him to ditch them. But Nikolai is seriously creeped out about the prospect of hurting me—which has never happened.
“Once is enough, baby,” he told me with that wretched expression. “I’d never be able live with myself if I even accidentally hurt you, touched you too hard, or pushed you too much. I’d rather slash my own soul in half than do that to you.”
The fear in his gaze back then broke my heart. Possibly because that was coming from Nikolai, who, according to his dad, refused the very notion of the pills early on.
But he embraced them for me.
We spoke to his doctor, and he said there’s a possibility of a new medicine that’s able to put the manic episodes under control without murdering his soul in the process. We’re in the testing stage and he’s only used them once, but I like them much better.
At least they enable him to look at me without looking through me. He’s just less playful, which is something I can live with once in a while. And really, in the last six months, he’s had episodes exactly four times. One was a fuck fest, the second and third were zombie-like due to the ludicrous pills, but the fourth was a mixture of both, and I’m good with that. He was also happy about it and came down from his high in the span of two days.
In the beginning, when he felt himself spiraling, he’d send me a text.
My mind is turning up in volume. I’m getting bad. Maybe you should visit your parents for a week or so. Just stay away from me, baby.
No way in hell was I doing that, but he still tried to convince me to stay away the second time. Again, didn’t happen. If anything, I quit everything just to be by his side like he’s always glued to mine. And I told him that. I told him a relationship is being there for each other through the bad and the good. I won’t take while he gives—that’s not how this works.
The third and fourth time, he learned his lesson and his texts changed in tone.
I’m getting bad. I need you, baby.
They were the most endearing texts he’s ever sent and I never felt happier than when he started to depend on me and be openly vulnerable with me. It’s only fair after he saw me at my lowest and picked me up. Literally and figuratively.
He sneakily slides his hand on my waist beneath my shirt. A map of goosebumps erupts where his fingers stroke the skin at a rhythmic pace.
It doesn’t matter how long we’ve been together or how often he touches me—which is a lot—whenever I’m with him, my body, heart, and soul hum with uncontainable energy.
The need to touch him is constant, vibrant, and gets more intense with time.
But right now is about the worst circumstance for that.
“Nikolai,” I warn.
“Yes, baby?”
“Stop acting like an impatient toddler and remove your hand.”
“But it’s not fair that you’re touching me and I’m not touching you.”
“Behave, or you won’t get your prize.”
“Fuck no. Kolya and I are thirsty for the prize.” He rolls his hips and tugs me against him with a pull on my drawstrings.
My cock bursts to life, standing to attention when it grazes against his. I have to lift the brush in the air so I don’t ruin what I’ve been working on for the past hour.
I slide my palette on his desk and sneak my fingers through his hair. It’s longer now, brushing against his shoulders in a glorious fashion. I’m positively and irrevocably obsessed with it, so I might have forbidden him from cutting it.
He enjoys the attention a bit too much and leans into my palm as he rubs our dicks in a sensual rhythm. Despite my sweatpants and his shorts, I grow hard in an instant.
I tug on his hair. “Who’s the one who asked me to sketch him new tattoos to fill in the gaps?”
“You can do that after you give me my prize.”
“I’ll lose my flow.”
“You can sketch me up while I’m inside you, baby. I’m starving to feel your ass clenching around my cock as you beg me to fuck you harder.”
“Jesus. That mouth of yours requires urgent intervention.”
“You know you’re aching for it. Bran Jr. demands a meeting with Kolya.”