Chapter 21

                                    

                                          
~Maya~
"This one or this one?" I ask, holding up two pairs of dazzling earrings to my ears, admiring my reflection in the mirror. I'm wearing a light-yellow dress that flows gracefully to just above my knees. The dress has short sleeves, and I've adorned my wrists with a mix of bracelets to keep my hands from looking bare. My makeup is light and natural, a refreshing change from my usual heavy, caked-on look. Surprisingly, I love this new, softer style.  
I decide on the pearl studs sitting on my dressing table and immediately put them on. Stepping into my white heels, I admire how they elongate my legs. I am still checking out my outfit when my phone vibrates on the drawer, and I check it to see a message from Ilya. 
Ilya: The back is empty; you should sneak from there. I am in the car waiting for you ;). 
I smile at his thoughtfulness. Running a hand through my straight hair, I glance at myself one last time before sneaking out of the room. As I walk down the corridor, my heart skips a beat when I hear Nikolai's booming voice from the lounge. I worry he might have caught Ilya, but I soon relax when I realize it's just him and Killian arguing. Smiling to myself, I manage to slip out of their sight without getting caught. 
As I step outside, the cold air hitting my bare arms. I should've bought a jacket or something, but immediately push away the thought of destroying this dress's look. My gaze strays ahead and land on Ilya who sits inside the car drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, his brows furrowed. They immediately relax when his eyes meet mine, and a dimpled smile spreads across his lips. My heart skips multiple beats and I wave at him, admiring his slicked-back hair. 
Hearing a movement behind me, I rush to the car and settle in passenger seat quickly. 
"Hahahahaha," I turn to scowl at Ilya, who is shaking his head in laughter. 
"What?" 
"It was just a cat," he says, still chuckling. I look over to see an orange cat, standing like a deer caught in headlights. Embarrassed, I look at Ilya to snap at him, only to find him staring at me heatedly. Whatever I had to say, got burned away with the look in his icy eyes.  
 
"What?" I ask again, this time self-conscious.  
I tuck my hair behind my ear, but Ilya's hand wraps around mine and stops me. I look at him questioningly and after a long agonizing silence where neither of us have the courage to say anything, Ilya chokes out. "You're fucking beautiful."  
My breath hitches in my throat at the compliment, and I search his eyes to find any kind of lie, but looking at the sincerity in his eyes, it hits me right in the hard making it harder for me to breathe and I feel myself free falling into the abyss named Ilya.  
"Thank you," I smile, biting my lips and pondering over what to say to break the silence. Many people have called me beautiful, but none of them had the heated blue eyes, and the raspy voice that tickled my brain and a dimpled smile that made my heart flutter.  
"You look fucking handsome too." I say, my cheeks turning red at complimenting him, but loving how a smile spreads across his face.  
"Thank you, malyshka." Ilya winks at me, with my hand on his thigh, he shifts the gear with another hand and drives us away.  

"AIN'T NO FUCKING WAY," Ilya's mouth swing open, and I nod confirming his suspicions as I delve deeper into my childhood endeavors. 
"Uh-huh," I nod my enthusiastically, having way more fun recalling the chaotic moments of my childhood. "The day would've gone perfect if we didn't fell ill later though." I say, sighing as I chew the piece of steak, feeling nostalgic as I talk about my childhood so openly with someone who hasn't been part of my childhood.  
There's a long silence, before I continue, "Guess not everything has to be perfect?" I say before meeting my eyes with Ilya who looks at me with an intense gaze. He is chewing on his pasta, and those slight teasing dimples make their appearance with every movement of his jaw and I lose focus of everything that I was going to say. 
Ilya gulps down his bite, takes a sip of his water, his entire attention on me this time, "You're right, not everything has to be perfect. I like my things imperfect; I like them with flaws. Perfection isn't human and I don't want aliens."  
Oddly, his words hit somewhere. For some reason they felt they were directed at me and the thought of it warms me to the bottom of my heart and chills me to the core of my bones. I don't take my eyes off Ilya, we both continue to look at each other, his icy blue eyes staring back at my ocean blue eyes. I don't know what we're trying to do, but minutes pass on and neither of us make a move to do anything. Just looking at each other and taking each other in. My heart beats inside of my chest so rapidly that I fear it might come out of my heart and spill at his feet.  
When the silence and the eye contact become too much for me, I turn my attention to my steak which now has become cold but I still keep up the pretense of enjoying every bite. I still feel Ilya's eyes on me, burning the top of my head.  
"Excuse me," I look up at Ilya who is motioning the waiter behind me. My eyes stare at him with confusion, but he smiles at me as he takes my plate from me and holds it out to the waiter. "Can you re heat this, please?" I don't hear what the other person says in response. Every fiber of my being screams in agony of being read this well that it scares the shit out of me. The only thing that cries the happy tears is my heart, because after spending eighteen years of my life being not understood there is one person who does understand me without having to say anything. But despite, all of this I can't but regret my decision of going out with him, because I know that dating him makes me one step closer to busting the secrets that I have been harboring. Yet, knowing all of this, I don't have the guts to call our little ruse off.  
"What?" Ilya's brows furrow in confusion, but I shake my head at him. Emotion clogging my throat, making me unable to say anything. I take a sip of my wine, resisting the urge to gulp the entire glass down.  
"What about you?" I say hastily, wanting to divert my mind from anything other than this moment.  
"Huh?"  
"I mean, tell me one of your most memorable moments in childhood." This time Ilya goes quiet, his eyes cast downwards as he looks at his steak.  
There's a long silence, a really long one where I suspect he hasn't heard me if not for the clench in his jaw. A ridiculous thought comes to my head and I think maybe he might be broken too. I am about to change the topic to get out of the tense silence but I quietly hear him say. "There isn't any."  
And that alone, confirms my suspicions.