Chapter 312: Sometimes All I Think About Is You

[FROLO]

When the first ray of sun had seeped into Basement Three despite the way it was so underground, Doctor Belyaeva had been glad.

She had then thought it meant that her overnight patient would actually leave her the fuck alone so she could at the very least get some sleep.

But no.

He had not left.

If anything, he was still talking, six hours past dawn.

It was ten o’clock, and fuck if the doctor wasn’t ready to choose three fatal gunshots to the head over this.

Whatever this was.

"Mr. Moskowsky, your Solnyshka is in love with you. He wants you, just like he said it," the therapist said, shifting her folded leg for what felt like the hundredth time.

She’d been sitting here for over eleven hours, all because Katya Romanov had told Sergei he wanted him.

"Are you sure that is what Solnyshka meant? He was feeling quite down when he said it. Maybe he was trying to forget what happened to him. Isn’t that an expected response, doctor?" Sergei asked desperately.

The huge bags under his eyes had the doctor stare at him pitifully. But of course, the man didn’t even care about that right now.

Katya had told him, "What if I choose you?"

And Sergei Moskowsky had been buffering for eleven hours.

"Mr. Moskow—" she said, and again, Sergei interrupted her.

"He was wearing my used shirt too. Is it because he wants to smell me? I don’t understand because if he wanted to smell like me or smell me, I’m always right there.

"He could just breathe me in," Sergei argued before lying on his back on the couch and hugging a throw pillow. He had been thinking a lot today, and he wasn’t even close to an answer despite talking to the therapist for that long.

"If the roles were reversed, would you want a used shirt or your scent from the source?" Doctor Belyaeva asked, even though at this point she had long exhausted all the tricks she could have used in therapy.

Now she finally understood why all those therapists quit on this madman.

This man needed to be locked up in a room with Katya Romanov and never let out at all. Because if this continued, the doctor was sure she would lose her goddamn mind.

"That’s a trick question, doctor," Sergei chuckled dreamily, like he was already picturing the idea.

Oh, but he was so gone.

"Humor me, Mr. Moskowsky," she encouraged instead as she leaned against her chair. Her throat had gone dry one too many times, and even the guard had probably gotten tired of getting her electrolytes to keep her sane.

The patient in question hadn’t eaten or drunk anything despite talking about the newfound romance that was confusing the fuck out of him.

"Well, I’d prefer both," Sergei said in earnest, before he lay on his side while facing the doctor who wanted to disappear from this room.

"Both?" she asked, continuing the conversation because of the man’s unpredictability.

"Yes, both. Solnyshka’s citrus is very addictive. I could spend a lifetime breathing him in and never tire," Sergei said sheepishly, folding his legs against his chest like the very idea of smelling his Solnyshka was one that had him a happy man.

"I see..."

"His fresh scent is different from his scent after a day’s work," the alpha continued dreamily.

"Do I even want to know what that means other than sweaty and musky?" the doctor asked, almost rolling her eyes at the emotionally useless patient on the couch.

"After a long day’s work, he smells like home. Like the kind of scent I would drown in and never want to be rescued from. It’s always more potent, and he smells good even when he sweats.

"I’ve kissed him on the forehead a few times after a long day, and he tastes like heaven. I think I’d actually lose my shit if he lets me touch him," Sergei said, like that was the greatest discovery in all the fifty-two years he had been alive in this realm.

"Mr. M—"

"He kissed me twice... No, thrice..."

"Are you confused about the number of times you both kissed?"

"Not really. I remember them all. It’s just... The first time, he kissed me himself, and I kissed him a second time. I told you the day I got out of prison, remember?"

"Ah, the grand prison break day..."

"Anyway, those can be counted as two kisses or one. I’m not sure. I’m still trying to compartmentalize."

"You’re compartmentalizing kisses?"

"Well, yes. That way, I know when he might kiss me and when he is least likely to kiss me."

"Ah... Makes sense... For you," Doctor Belyaeva said as she wrote down in her book.

She had been given a new notebook when this session started.

She was currently on the last page of the three-hundred-sheet notebook.

"I know, right... Anyway, the third kiss, or objectively the new second kiss, was on my cheek. Not lips. It felt... Awesome. I didn’t wash my face all day," Sergei recalled, almost as if that was the turning point in his life.

"Why not?" the exhausted therapist asked.

"His lips were soft, and when they pressed against my cheek, it felt like I was in heaven. It’s a pity I had to wash my face because he came to the bathroom the next day to brush and helped me."

"Helped you?"

"Yes. He put toothpaste on my brush, and gave it to me... Then he hugged my waist as he went to the shower. Told me to clean up too."

"Mr. Mosko—"

"I didn’t have a choice, doctor."

"You... you didn’t have a choice? In what?"

"When Solnyshka wakes, he’s particularly very, very pretty. And that day he smiled at me and touched me."

"Touched you?"

"Yes, I just said it... He hugged my waist and smiled at me."

"Ooh..."

"Anyway, he told me to clean up and, well, I’d never disobey Solnyshka."

"I don’t think he said it as a command, Mr. Moskowsky..."

"He didn’t command me... but I wouldn’t mind being commanded by him," the alpha fucking chuckled at his exhausted therapist.

It took everything in Doctor Belyaeva not to ask for a swift gunshot execution instead of this, honestly.

"Back to the face you washed, how did you feel later?"

"Sad because I washed his touch. But later he served food for me, so it’s alright. He cares about me."

"And yesterday, when you told him to watch animals, how did you feel?"

"I think he’s mad at me for that."

"Mad?"

"Well, he was telling me he chose me, but I couldn’t accept it."

"Do you not love him anymore?"

"If you ask me that again, doctor, I’ll decapitate you in a grinder, doctor," Sergei said calmly before adding:

"I love Solnyshka. I’ve always loved him. I’ll never stop loving him. I live for him. Everything I do is for him. I just don’t want to break his heart when he’s still in a relationship with Senator Aleksandr."

"What if he chooses to go back to the senator?"

"Then I’ll still love him from a distance. I won’t interfere."

"Mr. Moskowsky, I think our session for now has to come to an end."

"But why?"

"Because you need to go and cook your Solnyshka lunch, since you didn’t make him breakfast," the doctor breathed hopefully.

"Oh shit," Sergei breathed before rushing out, leaving a slightly thankful doctor staring at the emptiness.

Away from the basement, the Romanov camp was still mobilizing because Katya had told them that Sergei had probably gone rogue.