Possessed hearts

Морион Анна

– Do you remember at Mariszka's wedding… There were so many guests," I began quietly.

– Yes. Almost all of us.

– And…" My tongue twisted and my throat constricted. – And I wanted to sleep with Cedric.

– Don't tell me you're in love with him," Martin said with a half mocking smile.

– What? No! – I even laughed at his guess. – But he was so… – I sighed, remembering the moment I'd seen Cedric that day. – A deity on earth. I wanted him, Martin, you know? And he's almost my brother.

– And that embarrasses you? All eight years? – Martin laughed briefly. A rather benign laugh.

– But isn't that the height of perversion? – I was surprised at his reaction.

I thought he should throw my hand away, jump up from the bench, and shout, "Scum!" and go away. And he laughed.

– My dear, Cedric is only your sister's husband's brother. Nothing more. And if you sleep with him, no one will think it a perversion. And this is the secret of the century you promised me? – He was still laughing.

I couldn't stop laughing.

Yes! Promised!

But I kept my biggest secret to myself.

I couldn't. No-one must know. Never.

– Isn't my secret worthy of your attention? – I smiled ironically.

A lie. A disgusting, nasty, filthy lie. Confusion. Shame.

– Worthy, of course. But it can't be called secret. But it can't be called shameful either. I once wanted Christina Vanini, even though she was married to one of my friends.

– And?

– Nothing. I think it was just a crush, like you and Fredrik. And now I don't see Christina as a woman at all. She's part of Anthony. That's all. – Martin took my palms in his and grinned into my face. – Do you think we'll be like this when we fall in love? Like Mariszka and Markus? Misha and Fredrik? Our parents?

– Just as funny, you mean? – I dropped it and sighed. – I don't know… But I hope that day never comes. Do you?

– I've been without love for so many years that it's no longer a lofty thing. – Martin made a grimace. – But, as so many examples show, at some point we become supersensitive idiots. Mum and Dad will forgive me.

– What a high opinion you have of Misha and Mariszka! – I grinned.

– Okay, Mariszka is a perfect example of prudence. But Misha…

– Misha what? I'm warning you not to speak ill of our little sister, you whistle-blower!

– I'm not going to. But her behaviour is hardly what you'd call reasonable. If Fredrik decides to live on Mars, she'll go with him. Is that the right thing to do? Going after someone else, even if you love them. I can't understand that.

– But you forget that Mariszka isn't twenty-seven like Misha. In 200 years Misha will be as sensible, you'll see. But hopefully not as prude as Mariszka. – I grinned derisively.

– I can't get used to the fact that you love each other so much," my brother said with a chuckle. – So there are only three sane people left in the Mroczek clan at the moment: me, you, and Mscislav. Everyone else is either in love, unhappy, married or married.

Martin's words made me laugh. If he only knew! If he only knew that there were not three, but two!

– Hungry? – Martin suddenly asked.

– I wouldn't mind a glass of wine. But no more than twenty-six years old," I winked at him.

– I know the perfect place. Come on.

We got up from the bench and headed out of the old town to one of the disadvantaged neighbourhoods, somewhere on the outskirts of Gdansk.

Martin was right. A great place to hunt.

At four in the morning we parted, fed and satisfied.

I returned to my room and fell into bed, feverishly thinking about Martin's words, which were playing in my head like a broken record.

"Going along with someone else, even if you love them."

That will never happen to me. I swear to myself. Falling so low may be for others, but not for me.

***

– How about a karaoke bar?

– Don't be ridiculous.

– I go there all the time.

– Oh, my gods, Martin, you can't even sing.

– You don't know anything about music.

– I think the only one in our family who can sing is Misha.

– And me.

– You love yourself too much.

– Come on. Sing something.

– No, I can't.

– That's it, no more objections and no more refusals.

– Get off me already!

– Are you afraid of the audience?

Martin was totally messing with me. Karaoke bar! Sing! I can't even remember the last time I listened to music and he's asking me to sing! Hmm. The last time I sang was when I was seven, for my grandparents. A Christmas carol.

– I'm not afraid of anything! But you can't take me at my word! We're not children, and I won't fall for that! – I mockingly answered Martin's question.

– That's what they all say. You coward! – Martin put his arm round my shoulders and dragged me along the crowded street, through the evening lights, into some creepy semi-basement. We stopped in front of a black iron door.

– It's a good thing you're dressed up today, or they would have sent you home to your parents," my brother said jokingly.

– Ha-ha-ha! – I faked a laugh.

But he was right. Tonight I was wearing full evening make-up, a dress, heels and a black leather jacket.

– I'll be singing and you'll be jealous. – Martin pressed the round bell located on the yellow wall, and eight seconds later the door opened. A middle-aged woman appeared on the doorstep. With tunnels in her ears, long blue hair and shaved temples.

– There's our star! Hai, Martin! – She said hello in a rough, smoky voice.

Martin winked at her.