TWO
I blink at him, at this stranger, while still holding onto his hand, not wanting to let go. I like the feel of it, the weight of it in my own grip.
“Like…you’re named after the whole country?”
Tommy (Russia) laughs, his head bowing back to glance up at the ceiling. Even the column of his throat is ridiculously attractive, all that perfect skin that could be tatted up, and would look beautiful in colorful geometric designs.
My fingers itch to draw something out right here, right now.
There’s an explosion of fireworks going off in my brain, bursting with colors and whizzing sounds all around as I keep looking at him.
“Your nickname is based off an entire country? Is that allowed?” I ask, realizing too late how much I sound like an i***t.
But honestly…Russia? Who gets a nickname li
