The glass was empty within seconds as I drank all the water, like a starved animal. The freshness soothed my inflamed throat, and I took a deep breath.
“Better?” Viktor asked, taking the glass from my hand.
I nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”
Viktor smiled, and his fingers touched my lips. “A little louder. You are speaking too soft for me to hear.”
I cleared my throat and tried again. “I said, thank you.”
He bent down and stole a quick kiss before pulling away again. “You are welcome, Valerie.”
We laid on our sides again. Viktor wrapped an arm around my hips and brought me close to his body. Between my thighs, I could feel my wetness dripping and his seeds leaving my warmth. I clenched my thighs together, not wanting any trace of him to spill away.
“Valerie, talk to me,” he urged, nudging the tip of my nose with his.
“It’s in my genes. My mother is deaf, since she was born. At the age of eleven, I was told that I would eventually go deaf too. My sister was six then, but she was diagnosed too. They gave me an estimated of five years before I would start losing my hearing, and maybe two years after that, I would be completely deaf,” I explained slowly.
While I was speaking, Viktor never stopped touching me. Whether it was his fingers drawing random patterns or his lips feathering over my skin, he was always touching me.
“That’s how I can read lips. My mother reads lips too. It’s hard, but I have been training my brain since I was eleven. Back then, I wasn’t deaf, so it was easier to learn. I listened and watched the lips at the same time, until I got used to it and the voice would just blend in the background and I would listen by just reading the lips. I know sign language too,” I continued.
“When did you go deaf?” Viktor asked, his fingertips grazing my ear softly.
I thought for a moment, trying to remember the dates. “Maybe three years ago. I think.”
“The doctor was wrong,” he said, a small smile on his lips.
I nodded. “My hearing lasted longer than they thought. I was very slowly going deaf; it was just six months when I had realized it. But then…”
The words caught in my throat, and I swallowed hard as the memories assaulted me.
“What happened?”
I buried my head in his chest, a whimper caught in my throat. “Valentin…I can’t remember much. It was a bad night. He hit me, and by accident, my head bumped against the bed post hard. I had lost consciousness and woke up two days later…I didn’t hear anything when I woke up. No matter how loud I screamed, I couldn’t hear anything. No words. No sound. It was just silence. I went from hearing to complete silence in a matter of days.”
Viktor’s arm tightened around me, trapping me into his embrace. “I know I was supposed to go deaf, eventually. It was meant to happen. But it still feels like he robbed me of my hearing. Maybe if I hadn’t hit that bed post, my hearing would have lasted longer…a few more months even.”
He pulled away and made me look up into his face. “Does it hurt? Being deaf…do you hate it?”
My hand came up to touch his cheek, rubbing his days of rough stubble. My throat had started hurting again from talking too much, but I continued speaking. For Viktor.
“No. I learned to accept it and be happy with it. I am deaf…not broken. It’s part of me. And in some ways, I have found strength in it. Because then, I didn’t have to hear his cruel words. Surprisingly, the silence is beautiful.”
Viktor waited…because he knew, he just knew a “but” was coming.
“But right now, I wish I could hear you. It hurts not being able to hear you.” Or the sound of your heartbeat.
Viktor’s eyes darkened, and our foreheads touched in a soothing way. “If I had the power to give you that wish, I would grant you it. Fuck, I would even cut my own arm off to give you this wish. I would leave a bloodbath behind me—just to give you this wish, myshka.”
Shaking my head, I couldn’t help but smile at his words. “I don’t need you to cause a bloodbath for me.”
At my words, Viktor smirked…a dark sinister smirk. It was quick, and then it was gone, like it was never there. Almost like it was my imagination.
“Why did you stop speaking?” I closed my eyes at his next question.
“He loved it when I screamed my pain. It was his drug. My screams were his power over me. And after I lost my hearing, my speech pattern changed too. I couldn’t control how loud or soft I spoke, like now. He said my voice was ugly…that I sounded weird. Eventually, I realized that my power lay in my voice. If I took it away, he wouldn’t win. He couldn’t control me. Every time he begged me to scream and I wouldn’t—I won.”