#i'm here for Irina's lips

[moonyasnow]

Troubled Sleep?

The one where Malleus and Irina have a sleepover

OC(S) : Irina

OTHER CHARACTER(S) : Malleus, Lilia

TYPE : Fic (~6.6k words)

CONTENT : mostly fluff and a liiiittle bit of angst (it gets better), a bit of hurt/comfort, mostly cute and light-hearted for once, lots of dialogue, a bit of an insight into Leomoe (Tomoe x Leona) too, some descriptions of Agoraphobia

WARNINGS : flashbacks of parents fighting, mentions of past/ongoing SH (Flashback will be marked with <----------->)

...Nothing happens to me, I had come to terms with All the things that I thought I'd never indulge in "Take all that you can get 'cause you aren't worth it" You make that me feel at ease, I have to admit....

..Everything is so brand new I don't know what I'm gonna do I've never said a word I've never let anyone see through Tell me why the fuck I wanna spill my guts to you..

-Irina-

She arrived at Diasomnia with a small plastic bag in her arms bearing the logo of 'MISTER S' MYSTERY SHOP'; inside was a toothbrush and the outer robe of the school's Ceremonial garb, which both she and Tomoe had used as pyjamas since they slept in them that first night in Ramshackle. They'd simply become both their 'sleep clothes' by that point, since they were hardly ever needed for anything else, and they managed to keep the cold that seeped through Ramshackle's poorly isolated walls somewhat at bay.

By this point the sight of the grand castle no longer floored her as it once did, having grown accustomed to it after so many visits to see her friend. Instead, gazing up the tower in which his room resided, her heart beat louder in anticipation as she walked across the creaking wood bridge.

She knocked on the big port gates, and waited, soon being greeted by a Diasomnia student.

"Oh, um, hello." She nodded in greeting. "I'm here to visit my friend—"

"Yeah yeah, the Housewarden again, got it." She closed her mouth in embarrassment as they opened the gate wide enough for her to step into the foyer.

"So uh, do you want me to...to go...t-tell him you're here?" She could see their skin pallor. She bit her lip, gripping the bag cradled in her arms a little tighter, and she couldn't keep her brows from slanting downward ever-so-slightly, annoyance bubbling up in her chest.

'Do you have to act like I'd be sending you off to die?'

"Oh, Irina."

Her heart leapt into her throat and felt like it hit a wall, making her entire body tense up and jump, as well as reflexively curl her toes tensely into the soles of her shoes. But she didn't make a sound.

As she cautiously looked to her right, she saw the owner of the voice, hanging upside down. Seeing it was at least someone she recognized, she exhaled slightly, shoulders relaxing just the tiniest bit.

When she met his eyes a mischievous smile stretched across his face, one which told her he knew exactly what he was doing scaring her.

Turning his body in the air, he gracefully landed on his feet next to her and the other student, the tips of his hair still hovering until a second after he'd put both feet on the ground.

"You're quite early."

"I-I'm sorry, should I not have...?" She bowed her head in greeting, like she'd watched Tomoe do so many times and over time just adopted as part of her own body language.

"No, no, it's not a problem." His smile mellowed with a shake of his head. "Come, I'll walk you there."

Making their way quickly through the Lounge, they began the trek— and really, it was a trek, given how large the Dorm was— to Malleus' room.

"He has been very excited about today for quite a while. Now, don't tell him I said this, but earlier I found him cycling through scores of differing themes for decorations. And when I asked, he said he'd been doing so 'only for three hours'." He giggled, telling the story mostly to himself.

As they continued ascents up narrow spiral stairways and walks through long, near-empty hallways on a path she was well familiar with by that point, she felt a bit silly. Really, she hadn't needed Lilia to walk her there, knowing the way so well, but she didn't want to seem rude by saying that. And...

Passing through the cold, grey, stone hallways with its wide, lattice-detailed windows on either side, she always felt so small. Like a rabbit out in a wide open field with short-cut grass. She was relieved to for once not be walking through them alone.

The times she did, she always hurried, glancing over her shoulders often, rushing to his room like it was a safe haven. Which, in a way, it was.

After they had finally reached the top of the last flight of stairs he said:

"It frustrates you to see people's aversion to Malleus, does it?"

Though her face didn't show it, the question caught her off-guard. 'He saw my face when I was talking to that student...' She clutched her bag tighter again, a sense of unease welling up in her.

"Um..."

"It's good he has someone like you." she noticed the warm lilt in his voice. "I'm sure I speak for both of us when I say I'm glad you're not afraid of him."

She didn't know how to respond to that unexpected statement of gratitude. Especially when she'd been expecting a lecture of some kind. It didn't make any sense for her to think he'd scold her. But still, it had been her first reaction.

"Ah, here we are!" the announcement made her loosen her tight grip of the bag. He then turned to speak to her.

"Now, Irina, would you like me to get you anything to eat?"

"Huh? Oh, n-no thank you, I'm fine. I wouldn't want to bother you..." before he had a chance to respond she added: "I already ate a little before I came here."

"Ah, if you've already eaten, that would defeat the point. But I'd gladly make you a meal anytime! You're quite small for your age; I sometimes worry you aren't eating enough."

"Ah..." Her heart suddenly felt queasy. "Th-thank you." She smiled and sweat-dropped, before she went to open the door.

She curled her hand around the cold, metal handle of the black, arch-shaped door.

Mindlessly, she opened the door and out of habit lifted up her head to scan through the area beyond it. When she saw the white and black tiled floor, the purple fabrics and the large stone dragon statue, her heart stilled its frantic battering almost immediately, the only goose-bumps remaining on her skin being on her back as she had it turned to Lilia.

And when she saw him, saw Peridot, like clockwork, her entire being seemed to come alive like a flower seeing the sun, and she gasped without meaning to. She swung the door open and took a step forward— then turned around in a panic to bow her head to Lilia.

"Thank you!" Before turning once more, as quickly as she could, to the cause of the feeling of lightness blooming in her bones. "Peri!" She couldn't wipe the smile off her face.

"My Child of Man." He beamed. They were long past the formalities extended to a a newcomer or even infrequent visitor. "You arrived early. Here I was planning to await your arrival, that I may invite you in myself."

"Should I come later next time?"

"Hm. No, that won't be necessary. I'll simply arrive an hour earlier to await you." he smiled casually with his hands on his hips as though it were the only logical conclusion.

Her eyebrows shot up.

"Oh, y-you don't need to—" She recalled hearing that he'd once waited for three hours for a Housewarden meeting to begin, and her guilt ebbed away.

"Well...only if you're sure you want to."

His smile stretched wider as his eyes closed.

"Of course."

'He'd really want to wait for me that long?'

It tickled her chest warmly.

'Does that mean I'm…important to him…?'

Her face began to feel warmer.

Hearing a giggle from nearby, both their heads turned to Lilia.

"I'll leave you to it. Have fun you two!"

-^-v-^-v-^- [ Malleus' Bedroom ] -^-v-^-v-^-

She exited the ensuite bathroom of his Housewarden's dorm room clad in her sleeping robe and saw him sitting on the couch, his bedside table having been moved, now covered in a small tray of cookies. He was wearing a long, black nightshirt that she thought seemed about 200 years out of fashion. For a second she was surprised he'd managed to change so quickly (and didn't seemingly care that she could open the door and catch him at any moment) but then she remembered he probably just snapped his fingers to get changed. She felt a bit embarrassed of her own clothing, an explanation of how they couldn't afford to buy any clothes on the tip of her tongue. But to her relief, he didn't comment on it as she went to sit on the couch next to him.

"I've never slept in the same room as someone else before... So, um...what do people do at sleepovers?"

"Oh?" He cocked his head to the side. "I had assumed you would know of such things."

"I-I'm sorry..." he shook his head in response.

"Fear not, for I acquired that information myself, using one of the machines you humans call 'computers' open to public use in the library." He smiled, looking very pleased with himself.

"You managed to use a computer?" Her eyes widened. Most likely thinking it was in awe, his smile grew even more pleased.

"I did indeed. The Heartslabyul senior, Diamond, instructed me on how to operate the device." He watched her listen to him with rapt attention "Although..." He put a hand to his chin, glancing sideways into recollection. "I did break the tool used to operate it; a 'mouse' I believe it was called? What a flimsy piece of plastic…it crumbled beneath my hand as easily as a dry autumn leaf."

"Oh..." she blinked, giving him a sympathetic expression. "I hope you didn't get in trouble for it." her concern was genuine.

"One of the staff ghosts did become rather upset, and requested I pay back the cost of the item, though that was all. You need not be worried for me. Though I admit I am pleased to know of your concern." He smiled at her once more, dark lips curving upwards in a motion she couldn't force herself not to watch intently.

"So, um, what did you learn?"

She asked, trying to keep her mind from wandering.

"It seems the gist of it is to wear nightclothes, partake in treats, and merely talk. And so, I had some prepared." a troubled look flashed in his eyes. "Upon hearing me speak of it, Lilia was adamant he prepare them…" He shuddered in silence.

'Oh, right, I forgot...Lilia's food is inedible, isn't it?' "It was nice of him to offer, at least?" she cocked her head to the side.

"Indeed." he offered a small sigh. "Although I have long since given up urging him to consider changing his way of 'cooking'."

'Oh, right, I forgot...Lilia's food is inedible, isn't it?' He let out a short, mirthful chuckle. "Though, Artemisia has not yet learned that lesson. She appears vexed by her inability to solicit a change in his culinary habits, no matter the myriad of times she has suggested advice or recipes. She even spoke of gifting him several cook-books for his birthday."

"Would...would that even help?" She whispered the latter part, even leaning closer, as though entrusting him with a secret.

"Given that he already claims to follow recipes...I am unsure."

"Ah, how careless of me, I nearly forgot. to enquire... How are your own dorm-mates faring?" he Has anything of note occurred in Ramshackle as of recent?"

"Oh, Leona has come to Ramshackle a few times recently."

"Kingscholar has?"

"Mhm." She nodded. "He eats dinner there sometimes. But I've only been there once when he's been there. Tomoe usually tells me in advance…" Her tone wilted.

"Do you wish to avoid Kingscholar?"

"'Avoid' is a bit of a strong word…I just... want to give them some time to themselves." She curled up into herself on the couch, hugging her legs with one arm and speaking into the top of her knees. "Tomoe, Leona and Grim…they look a bit like a family when they're together. And it just…makes me feel a bit awkward when I'm there. Like I'm intruding…" She realized instantly that this would be considered 'over-sharing' talking to someone. "Um, I mean-- i-it's not that bad, I just- I'm just not really used to someone who isn't me, Grim or Tomoe being there." She fiddled with the fabric of the couch, lightly scratching her nail over it through her glove, and tried to swallow back the tears she could feel behind her eyes, threatening to spill.

'Why am I crying this time? So annoying…get over yourself. Just because you feel a bit lonely doesn't mean you have to cry about it. And why are you lonely in the first place? Just making a big deal out of nothing again…'

She felt a warmth enfold her hand. Looking down, she saw his bigger, pale hand on top of her gloved one.

"You will never be an intruder here." His voice instantly drew her attention toward him.

She looked at him with a subtle expression he'd come to recognize as one of surprise by the almost blank look on her face and the subtle raising of her eyebrows.

Her heart fluttered. Right… This wasn't 'someone new'. This was Peridot. Malleus.

Silently, she squeezed his hand back. Like he squeezed her heart.

"You mentioned that they 'look like a family'?"

"Right. I think so, at least…I think that's what a family looks like— should look like, I mean…" She still wasn't used to how honest he made her.

"What might you mean by that, more specifically?"

"Um, well… Sometimes, it's like Grim is their child. Like that time I was there: Tomoe was cooking dinner, and Grim and Leona were in the kitchen with her. Grim asked something about how much longer was left til the food was done…then Leona said that if he was going to keep complaining about the time, he should just help Tomoe. And Tomoe said that the same thing went for Leona, too." A small smile crept onto her face. "Then she called them both 'hungry kitties'."

"Kingscholar, a 'hungry kitty', hm?" Closing his eyes, he chuckled.

"…It is a little funny." And she did, too. "Ah, b-but please don't tell Leona I said that… Or that I told you about Tomoe saying that. I think he only doesn't mind when Tomoe says it…" 'If he found out I told someone else about it, Peri especially, I think he'd be mad…'

"Very well. If that is your wish." he said, still smiling. "Still…" and he laughed again. "It will be amusing, to hold such knowledge of him the next time we speak." he gazed off into the distance, in thought. "He does not mind Sakurada being the one to refer to him as such, then?"

"Well… When she said that, they both got upset. But I think it was only because she compared them to each other." Replaying the incident in her mind, she couldn't help but laugh. "Grim said 'myah, I ain't anything like that lazy ol' lion!' and Leona said something like 'Don't compare me to that fur-ball, Herbivore.' And then she said 'Yes, you're both very different.'"

He laughed again.

Hearing that deep, almost rumbling sound, she was utterly enchanted. It was beautiful. And in that moment, laughing at what was essentially gossip, all the while she could see a crumb from the cookies they'd been eating stuck at the corner of his lip, she wondered how anyone would ever be able to look at him and see someone to be feared.

She wanted so badly to sit up on her knees and lean over to cup his face in her hands, and kiss him. She'd never had that desire before. If she'd ever had a crush— or what she thought was a crush…she really couldn't tell anymore, with how she always forgot her feelings felt as soon as they went away— she never had thoughts like that. She wanted their attention on her, yes, and felt overjoyed when they did look at her or talk to her, but this was different. She'd never wanted to specifically do something before— much less do it herself.

She was never one to initiate anything.

And she wouldn't this time either.

But she'd wanted to. So badly that it hurt, the ache of yearning pulsating in tune to her loud heartbeat, resounding from her throat. She forced away the thought of what kissing him might feel like.

-^-v-^-v-^- [ Malleus' Bedroom, Later ] -^-v-^-v-^-

Bringing the candelabra from the desk as quietly as she could, she set it down on the floor in front of her, lighting just one of the candles.

The couch at the end of the bed, where she was meant to sleep, was empty save for a single pillow.

She sat on the floor, near the edge of the carpet, with the heels of her feet on the lightly fuzzy surface and her toes on the cold black and white tile. She was using the purple blanket she'd been given as a shield draped over her small body, its tassels tickling her.

She'd tried to sleep. But she just couldn't. The quiet in the room seemed to want to surround her on all sides, pressing against her like plastic in a vacuum former.

On nights like these, she at least always used to have her plush rabbit Clover with her. She would hug it, and feel less scared; less alone. Because she imagined it could feel the same feelings as she did. That she wasn't alone, that someone could understand the feelings that took over her, that she someone to suffer alongside her. The illusion, for that is all it ever could grant her, at least gave her a little strength.

Yet Clover was no longer with her. It was back in her world; back on earth. Probably in her bag, or in her bed, where she usually kept it. So all she could do was hold herself. Yet it wasn't enough.

Her arms were too…her. Thin, and cold.

She could never mistake them for the touch of another.

Blankets had so often acted as her shield, a warm weight surrounding her, cocooning her, keeping her safe. But now, with no Clover to hold to complete the puzzle, it felt like just what it was: fabric.

Moments like this, with her curled up on the floor in a blanket close to night, reminiscent of similar nights from when she was a child, was always when she could hear her parents the clearest. She imagined them there, arguing, just on the other side of the door…

<----------------------------------------------------------------------------> The crashing sound of the table being flipped over, the plates and drinking glasses crashing loudly to the floor, the sounds of them breaking apart invading her mind, sending adrenaline pumping through her system, making her curl up tighter beneath the blanket.

'Then why don't YOU get off your ass and get a job yourself, huh?!' A muffled yell. A sputter was the answer.

'You DARE to say that when it is MY family's money you're squandering?! And you have not forgotten the neighbors threatened to call someone if we left her alone again, yes? Either stay home with her yourself for once, get a job, or stop going to the pub and count yourself lucky we get that money at all!'

'The money's in our account. If I have to put up with your bitching and whining, I sure as hell deserve a break from it! It's not like I asked for your parents to take fucking pity on us. In fact, I wish they hadn't! I wish I'd never fucking met you!'

'And you think that I asked for this?! You believe I wanted to spend the rest of my life with a foul-mouthed, brainless, pathetic dead-beat like yo—'

— SLAP —

'Fucking bitch. SHUT! UP!'

Someone fell to the floor, panting.

'I can't deal with this fucking shit.'

The front door was opened, then slammed shut. Leaving her alone in the house with her upset mother. If she went out of her room to pee, she would be yelled at. <---------------------------------------------------------------------------->

She was breathing heavier. Her body quivered beneath the blanket. She shook her head from side to side, scratching at the skin of her scalp, gritting her teeth, willing the memories to go away.

'I-I'm safe here…it's ok. I-It's ok. They're not there. It's not real. I'm just—just imagining it. So stop imagining it! Stop it! I don't want to think about it! Go away!'

She covered her head with the blanket and curled up impossibly smaller. As small as the laws of physics would allow without her breaking or dislocating anything. She stretched the fabric to its limits and gripped it hard, willing it tighter over her bones.

She whimpered. It just wouldn't go away. It wouldn't stop. The blanket didn't help. The blanket always used to help, at least a little. Why didn't it this time?

She huddled closer to the candle, hoping to feel soothed by the light. She whimpered again. Louder this time. Without thinking, she put the middle bone of her index finger between her teeth and bit down, feeling the familiar, soothing ache of pain.

Looking at her hand she saw bite marks. Some old, but others new, the most recent only having scabbed over a week prior. There were more under the sleeves, on both of her arms. It was the only thing she knew to do to soother her on-the-inside pain, an itch she'd never been taught how to scratch at, replacing it instead with causing herself on-the-outside pain.

'I won't bite hard…I can't. I couldn't explain the blood to him.' But she wanted to. To distract herself, give herself another reason— a more legitimate reason— to whimper. In pain, this time. She deserved to feel pain anyway.

She...she wanted it.

'That's…'

<----------------------------------------------------------------------------> —SLAP— <---------------------------------------------------------------------------->

'That's what happens when you're bad…' And wasn't she bad? She felt bad. Always. Always, always, always. 'Just a burden...a useless burden who never did anything for anyone. All I did was make everyone's lives worse. Just kept leeching off the wasted good will of others. Of the orphanage owners. Of my uncle. He probably never cared anyway. Why would he? He's...he's probably happy I'm gone. If he even realized it at all.'

But...often, the pain she caused herself felt good to her. It felt familiar, like relief. Almost even loving; the near life-long habit having encoded a sense of the familiar, of the safe, into the act of causing herself pain. But that it was still pain, something bad that she thought she deserved, kept her from denying herself the sensation, the same way she had with almost every other thing that she liked.

But...he wouldn't like it. If he knew she'd hurt herself. And she couldn't clean it off or change into something else.

Her eyes ached, primed to spill over. She knew she'd start sobbing soon.

Dread muddled through her veins thick and slow, the urge drawing her in closer and closer, like a whirlpool. She had to, she had to, she had to, she had to; nothing else would make the dread and fear and panic and desperation go away. The pain would comfort her. It was this or Clover, and Clover was gone—

"Child of Man?"

Her breath hitched. She dropped her hand— barely an inch away from her teeth, into her lap, biting down on her lip instead. She hid her hand back inside the blanket as quick as she could. Caught up in her own spiral, she'd missed him stirring awake.

"Why are you awake? Did something happen?" he asked with a sleepy voice.

'Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no— h-how do I— I shouldn't be awake right now. How do I explain—'

He'd slipped out of his bed to come closer to her.

"I…" she looked away from him in shame. In an instant, an excuse formed in her head. "I had a nightmare…"

Lying was easier than sharing the real reason. But why? She didn't think he'd be upset; that wasn't what she was worried about. She just…didn't want to get into explaining why she couldn't sleep.

"Oh, did you now?" He sat down next to her. Something in her hardened, like a see-through beetle-shell formed around her mind. It calmed her. At the expense of wiping any expression from her face, any vulnerable sincerity from her voice.

"Do you wish to discuss it? I recall Lilia would ask Silver the same once upon a time."

Still not looking at him, she shook her head. "It's okay. I'm used to it. I have them a lot." Her muscles had gone tense, leaving her feeling like a wire skeleton beneath a cloth exterior. Had she been more aware, she would have been surprised to hear the admission of often having nightmares spill from her lips at all; she'd only ever heard it spoken inside of her head before.

A moment of silence followed.

Then she felt his hand on her back. She couldn't keep from flinching. She was sure he felt it too.

"...Child of Man." He spoke in a low, serious voice, causing a slow build-up of dread over her bones. "Look at me."

Slowly, reluctantly, she did.

"So long as I am here..." she leaned back her head to look up at him. As purple met green, the beetle-shell began to slowly melt, thawing like ice."No... So long as I draw breath," his hand drew nearer her, to brush a lock of hair behind her ear... "no evil shall touch you." ...but stopped just before his hand reached her face.

"Even if I fall into slumber," she saw his eyebrows were furrowed ever-so-slightly. "I shall awaken the instant you call for me."

Her lips parted in surprise. She felt something violently grab hold of both her heart and throat and squeeze, taking her breath with it. It hurt, in an 'on-the-inside' way. It was new. Overwhelming. It tasted bittersweet, like medicine.

'...Why? Why would he...?'

"Goodnight, my Child of Man."

The second he began to move away, she felt the sudden loss of that warm, bewildering feeling, replaced too many horrible emotions to name crackling through her body all at once.

"Wait!" The word flew from her lips before she could stop it. Him leaving, even if he were just a meter or two away and would wake up if she called for him, felt horrible. The thought of him not being right next to her, even just to sleep, felt unbearable. And she knew that…she would feel safe if she were next to him. If he were to hold her. The mere thought consumed her body, mind and heart with longing, with want. With shame, too. Shame at daring to think she could ever be allowed something so wonderful.

"…Um…" she said so quietly she was sure he would miss it; it was the strongest she could manage to make her voice in that moment.

"I…" Digging her nails into her wrist, she made herself look up at him and force the words from her lips. "C-can I…sleep next to you?"

She watched, almost in slow-motion, as his expression turned to one of shock.

"You would..." his deep voice began, almost as much of a whisper as her own words.

His parted lips slowly gave way to a smile, brows coming back down. Beneath them his eyes narrowed into slivers of peridot green, crinkling warmly at the edges.

"Of course."

Her eyes widened. 'R-really…?' It was her turn to be stunned. 'He'd really want me to sleep next to him?' Her heart started beating unsteadily, accompanied by a dizzying, nauseating feeling. 'Too good to be true' she'd always called that feeling.

'No, it's probably just because I basically begged him… Not because he wanted to…' He took her hand in his, thankfully not looking at them as he helped her up from the ground. Instead he looked into her eyes. She couldn't look away even if she wanted to. Which she didn't. '…I don't know. I hope he wants to…' When it came to him, she could never convince herself of the words she was so used to thinking.

She would never understand how he could do that. She'd spent her entire life trying and failing to quiet the rioting, wailing thoughts that had scratched at the inside of her skull for as long as she could remember. But all he had to do was look at her, and they faded to silence.

Then she smiled, too. A look of relief on her face.

He lead her by the hand, to the side of the bed. Seeing him sit down and pat the spot next to him, she slowly climbed up and onto the mattress, his hand having extended the blanket until she got in. Expecting to hear creaking metal springs and feel rough linen- not because she thought that's what his bed would be like, but because it was what she herself was used to- she was surprised to see her knee sink into the soft mattress under her weight, then rise right back up as it left with her. He closed the curtains around the bed, enveloping them both in darkness.

For just a moment when they laid down, she was tense, not knowing what to do. But when he covered them both with his blanket- thick, and enchanted, to keep his reptilian blood warm- it was washed away like the closing of an open window that had rattled in the wind. Still, her heart beat loudly.

His bed was very soft, and warm. It felt different from every other bed she'd ever slept in. The sheets were the softest she'd ever touched; they felt like silk. 'They probably are.' The second her head touched his pillow, she thought she was melting into it.

"It's so soft!" she couldn't help but exclaim. "U-um, t-the pillow, I mean…"

"Is that so? If it pleases you, perhaps we should arrange more sleepovers. You are always welcome here."

"R-really?" then her face scrunched up in guilt. "It usually takes me a while to fall asleep…"

"Then shall I sing you a lullaby?" For a second, a spark of excitement glittered in her. The suggestion seemed so...intimate. Just the thought made her heart race...before she forced it to stop.

"I— w-well, what I meant was, I wouldn't want to keep you up so often, with me not being able to sleep..."

"In truth, I do not require much sleep. At least, not as much as humans do. So getting less of it would not negatively affect me as much as losing yours would you."

"So...I wouldn't be bothering you?" she already relished the sensation of being in such a soft place, hearing his voice so close to her in the darkness. 'I shouldn't ask for more than that...'

"You would not." she heard a smile in his voice, and hoped more than anything that she was right. "Though, that does bring me back to my question... Do you think that hearing a lullaby would aid you into sleep?"

"I…I don't know. I've never…really heard one. I mean, I have heard some, just...never had one sung to me." Embarrassment turned into shame and drenched her chest at the admission. 'Most parents sing lullabies to help their children sleep, don't they?'

"Hm." came his reply. She felt a long finger trace the palm of her hand. She froze to focus on the feeling. In the dark, all she could see were his eyes, glowing beautifully chartreuse, gaze still trained on her. Before his fingers all slipped between the gap of her thumb and index finger and held onto her hand gently. She held his back without even stopping to ponder it.

...Was this truly the kind of closeness 'friends' had? The gentle gazing into each other's eyes, holding each other in sleep, the emotion-filled words, promises spoken in hushed tones only to each other?

She didn't want to know. She didn't want it confirmed that it was only platonic, only to lose herself in yearning for something more and becoming discontent. And for the very same reason she didn't let herself even ponder the possibility of it being romantic.

Yearning for something more had never done her any good, only lead to her hopes being crushed, adding more fuel to the fire of the desperate felling of pure hell that always caught up with her sooner or later. So at some point she'd forced herself to stop. It was safer not to look past what was right in front of her. To not imagine any way it could be different...

"Then come closer, and listen well…" And she did, choosing to send her thoughts off with the wind. To once more think of nothing but the current moment.

He inhaled gently, and began to hum a smooth, baritone melody. The sound ran like a flowing stream through her ears, reverberating into the rest of her body. Closing her eyes, she imagined a forest, slivers of golden sunshine filtering through the green of the leaves and gleaming against the surface of a stream. Underneath a large tree, there she was, leaning against someone. Someone with beautiful green eyes.

She was warm, her mind felt fuzzy and her body…strangely heavy… And…safe. Like in this place, nothing would ever hurt her. Like closing her eyes wasn't dangerous. Like here, she could let down her guard without worry.

The tendrils of self-abuse that wanted to drill through her skull to pierce her brain and tell her how horrible she was for burdening him like this, or for 'lying' all to 'get her way' never came. They flitted around the room still, combing through the air. But they couldn't get to her now, in her…no, their cocoon.

Because he was there.

And he said no evil would touch her.

She knew he was right.

She felt her closed eyelids become heavier, locking in place, and her body sinking, sliding closer to his by the dip in the mattress caused by difference in weight.

Right there, body slotted so closely against his, she felt safe. Warm. Cherished, even. Like she…belonged there.

-^-v-^-v-^-

-Malleus-

He stopped singing. "…Irina?" he called out after a while. No answer came to the call of her name. She was fast asleep.

When she'd first asked, he was stunned. He had never slept in the same room as another before, much less in the same bed. Neither his grandmother nor Lilia had ever done as such when comforting him as a child. And as Crown Prince, he surely would never be 'weak' enough to not withstand solitude.

Her head was buried in his chest, and her warm, slow breaths almost tickled. He felt…strange. An unfamiliar sensation lighting up his chest; the urge to do…something. To do what, he couldn't quite place a name to. His heart murmured the vague shape of an idea into his ears, but the idea itself was shrouded in fog, its shape indiscernible. All he knew was the premonition that once he could put a name to and execute said action, it would fill him with a joy he could never before have imagined.

But not the kind that bubbled in him, the giddy fizzling embers she so often caused him.

No, this felt…deeper. The tightness in his chest sang a song similar to that of gratitude. And yet, it was not gratitude toward her that he felt. It was altogether strange.

Malleus looked at the girl in his arms. She was so small compared to him…and so warm.

Before she happened upon him on his walk near Ramshackle that night, how many times had he lamented how cold the world seemed? It could not only have been his quite literally cold-blooded body to blame. No, the cold seemed to seep into his very bones, into his soul. Into his heart. He was perpetually surrounded by a natural quiet; not a muffling or complete dispelling of sound— no, there simply was no sound to muffle or dispel in the first place. Empty. Save for him alone.

But since that night, the cold that crept so deep into his heart had slowly begun to recede. With each chance meeting. With each night-walk shared between the two of them.

The night she first invited him to go on another walk after the sun set the next day, he could have sworn his heart would fly out of his chest with how high it soared. He couldn't keep a smile off his face all day. All around him, people avoided him more than usual, likely on account of said smile. But he couldn't bring himself to care. Because for once, he had been invited to spend time with a friend. For once, he was wanted. Not as crown prince, not for his power...wanted for nothing more than his company; his time.

And now, she was there, in his arms. It felt like a miracle. One he should thank someone for. For her not fearing him. For her staying up late every night to go on walks with him. For her always listening to his rambles of his beloved gargoyles. For her coming close enough to touch his cold heart, covered in dust, and warm it in her hands.

He let his fingers wade through the thick, wavy tresses of her pale pink hair. He curled his body so his nose could nuzzle the top of her head.

'You truly are precious, my…' The usual name died on his tongue. It wasn't...special, enough. It was something he could call anyone else.

'…My Irina.'

He held her closer, curled his body up tightly around hers, imagining his draconic wings coming to shield her where she laid, like a precious treasure. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to keep her where she was, in his arms, forever— stealing her away like a dragon would a princess. To lock the both of them in one tower, where they would live out the rest of their days in bliss.

Such visions of an eternity spent together lulled him to sleep soon after, warm, with a smile on his lips.

-^-v-^-v-^- [ Diasomnia Dorm, the next morning ] -^-v-^-v-^-

-Lilia-

'Sitting' upside down on one of the sofa chairs in the lounge and reading the newspaper, Lilia's legs waved in the air in a content rhythm.

"He would usually be awake by this time..." He remarked to no one in particular by the time he'd finished the paper.

And so he waltzed in the air over the stone floor and hummed a bright, cheery tune from a video Kalim had sent to him— about cats in a marching band, if he remembered correctly— on the long trek, or well, flight, up to Malleus's chambers.

Once stood in front of the door, hand poised to knock, he thought better of it, instead slowly creeping in through the door.

Seeing the blanket on the floor, the couch empty, and the usually open curtains of Malleus' bed closed, he smiled knowingly to himself.

He peeked his face in through the curtains at the end of the bed, and a pair of green eyes opened and narrowed dangerously at him as Malleus' head shot up from the pillow to glower at him at the speed of his lightning. His murderous gaze, like a dragon prepared to guard his hoard, mellowed out into a mere pout when he realized who it was— a clear, silent sign telling him to 'leave'.

And so he made like a tree. He smiled widely and removed his face from the curtains, hearing a small hiss at the tiny sliver of light that escaped through before they properly closed again, before leaving quietly out the door.

'Should I draw up wedding plans already, I wonder…'

He giggled to himself as he went on his way.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

These fools don't know they're basically already in a relationship

Writing this made me cry multiple times because they are MEANT FOR EACH OTHER—

If you like Mallina just as much as I do, or even just 0,1% as much as I do, just send me a message ANYWHERE (comments, an ask(private if you'd like), a reblog, in the TAGS of a reblog, DM, etc.) and I will GLADLY add you to the tag list of any future stuff I make for them! ^^

Ignoring all my perfectionist thoughts to 'keep working on this for several months' and just posting it already

In my 'fuck it, we ball' era [ and it's so difficultttttttttttttt (´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀) ]

fr you have no idea how proud of myself I am for only taking a month to write all this! My last proper fic took me FOUR months!

I'm just very proud of this one in general honestly~ Shows I really can make good stuff, even LONG stuff, when I put my mind to it!

Tag list: @another-random-paradise @thehollowwriter @faefum @cactus13-rolloflammesimp (thank you very much for the idea of this fic~!) @beneathsakurashade

@nyx-of-night

[widowpunx]

Do you still have a plan to continue the one where Wanda and Natasha are step siblings? that was the one where Wanda saw Natasha fuck May parker

I'm working on various fics and request at the moment. And to answer your question, I'm planning to upload another chapter of 'Why not believe in me," where during a family dinner Natasha tease Wanda about what happened last night.

Natasha calls their passionate fucking a "girls' night" and Wanda wants to strangle that perverted redhead or slap her in the face, however she fakes a bright smile while her butt is still sore and throbbing after receiving Natasha's huge prick between her ass cheeks.

From time to time Natasha let her eyes roam over Wanda boobs and lick her lips, Wanda sense this and feels embarrassed and struggle to keep her face calm and hope her mother Irina don't notice the red blush that covers her face but inside she burning and melting, her p*ssy is tingling needing attention. Of course her mother and Alexei mistake Natasha's teasing and smiling attitude, believing that both older girls have become close stepsisters.

🔥🔥🔥🔥

If you haven't read this fic you can do it here and now

just read the tags before reading it

[yearningandpatheticaboutit]

CHAPTER 14: I CANT STAND THIS ANYMORE

wc: 6054

tags: violence, attempted s/a, smut, angst, drugs

a/n: this chapter might be triggering for some people, read at your own risk.

prev chapter

yaera

i havent been to one of these events since i was fifteen. that doesnt sound like a long time, but considering my sister was still alive then, it certainly felt like forever had passed.

the dress i was given is pretty at least. its black, has long sleeves and looks like it was designed for a sexy vampire. one good thing came out of this shitfest.

but the best part is, i can hide san's drugs within my outfit. im not stashing them in matching black purse because it'll get searched, but the tiny ziplock bags fit perfectly in my sleeves and boob area. this will truly be the riskiest thing ive ever done.

irina and the others even messaged me not to forget the stuff. im so focused on just getting that money the fear i had buried inside me hasnt completely resurfaced yet.

im staring at myself in the mirror, looking at my smokey eye make up. the black hair dye really gave me a morbid yet sexy aesthetic that im not bad about. if i could describe myself in two words, it would be exactly that, morbid and sexy.

the sexy part is what bothers me. i know there are people who would agree all too willingly with that. and its not my target audience.

my room door swings open and my mother walks in. theres a strange look on her face as she takes me in. we say nothing to each other for a few moments till she breaks the silence.

"bellisima," she says, almost under her breath. "we can really never go wrong with santo. he made you look like a princess, even if you look like you are going to a funeral."

my insides squirm at the mention of his name. i tried to ignore it, but the fear i felt in that bathroom is coming back full swing. im seeing him tonight. he'll be waiting for me.

"please don't do this again this year," i stiffly begged. "you need to find someone your own age Santo. I'm...I'm not the one."

santo cocks his head to the side and smirks. "and who told you that? who said you're not perfect for me?"

"i don't fucking want you," I hissed. his eyes widen slightly, more out of sick arousal instead of offense.

he advanced on me and i blinked, finding myself pressed against a stall. i whimpered and tried to wriggle out of his grip, but my arms were pinned to the side. oh my God, I'm going to be sick.

"but I want you, and you know that. so why don't you stop playing games," he whispered dangerously close to my ear. i shivered and my nausea kept tugging at my stomach.

"i'm your only chance at a respectable man. your parents already love me. so why don't you accept the love I have for you? you'll never find anyone like me, tesoro."

"i fucking hope so," i whispered, pinching my eyes closed. he moved his face infront of mine, hovering his lips over mine. I whined and wriggle, but he isn't fazed by my struggling.

"you're a big girl now, right?" he said lowly. "i think it's time you feel like a woman."

i snap out of that awful memory when my mother clicks her fingers infront of my face. "come on, hurry up! we are only waiting on you!"

i cant leave san's side tonight. no matter what.

when i get downstairs, my nearly feel the breath getting knocked out of me. he's standing there, looking more handsome than i've ever seen him. black hair slicked back, eyebrows done. the suit is sitting perfectly. its like he's the model here and not me. god i think im going to be sick.

he gives me a small smile but says nothing.

"doesn't she look perfect, amore mio?" my mother says to my father, who only gives an awkward smile of acknowledgement.

"the two of you can sit at the back of the limo. your mother and i will take the two front seats," my father says, then turns to san with a pointed finger. "dont get any ideas, boy. i know your headmaster personally."

san awkwardly laughs. "i would never, sir."

i try not to wonder how true that is. we pile into the limo and my parents keep looking at us through the rearview, making sure there's a significant gap between us. i look over to him and all the anger i felt before is just gone. i think im fucking whipped.

hes the most beautiful man ive ever seen.

"san..."

"you look really pretty," he tells me before i can say anything. saying that with the most expressionless face makes my face drop.

"oh-"

"i just wanted to say that. you really do."

i dont know what to say. the limo is dim so i dont know if he can see how flushed i feel. he leans forward and i think hes about to kiss me. i hope for it. i dont even care if my parents are nearby.

"where are you hiding the stuff?" he whispers. oh right, his drugs.

i show him my sleeves, how the pills are pressed finely between the folds. then i point to my bust. "others are in here," i say.

he chuckles lowly. "creative. you can give me some if you need more space."

if san gets caught with this my parents would end him. everything he worked to achieve would be gone in less than 2 days.

"i think i should keep it. just in case anything happens. you know, rich girl immunity."

san nods and leans back away from me, making me feel empty. "of course."

no words are exchanged between us for a few moments. so we're really going to pretend like the party didnt happen? did that mean it was never going to happen ever again. i dont want to sound desperate but my head is screeching for answers.

but i focus on what matters tonight. putting on a show. getting irina and the others their drugs and collecting payment. and most of all, escaping santo.

"san, can you do me a favour?" i ask.

he hesitates but nods anyway.

"dont leave my side tonight. please."

he rubs the back of his head nervously. "well, i am your date. and i dont know anyone else here."

god. he doesnt realize how bad i need him.thats the thing, i need him more than he needs me. i can never delete what i have on him. i never know when this will go sideways.

the party is at some hotel. when we get there, i can tell the reception is intimidating to san. the cameras, the flashing lights. the security. i grab his hand and he doesnt protest as we go inside. both of us get patted down by security guards, of course the drugs go undetected.

we go inside and the dinner set up is fancy as fuck. i look at san and i cant tell if hes forcing the coolness to not have a panic attack, but his face is blank. i spot irina and the others at a table and wave, my mother dragging us to a separate table with our name on it.

theres a stage with a massive projection screen, where a slideshow of the lingerie collection plays. i know at some point the pictures from the shoot will play out as well. im hoping to sneak off before then because i cant handle the embarrassment.

"so this is your life huh," san mutters next to me. i frown, his tone sounds disappointed.

"whats wrong?" i ask.

"nothing. just...i cant believe it sometimes."

hes been acting so weird. is he insecure? fuck i.dont even know where to start placing questions. my stomach sinks a little at his tone. i guess he'll never get it. he doesnt understand what im really running from. i doubt he ever will. that class disconnect will keep beating our ass.

to him, anything is better than being in a gang. i guess hes right. but that doesnt mean there arent things out there that would make you want to kill yourself. i would know.

santo walks out on the stage and everyone starts clapping like this is the oscars. "good evening everyone, buenos noches, buonasera, and everything else! welcome to the launch of the new Cosa Pericolosa brand. a brand distinct for its dangerous yet delicate beauty, made of the finest Italian lace and silk. i want to thank everyone for coming to celebrate and enjoy this milestone. there will be dancing and there will be a party, saluto!"

as soon as he gets off that stage, i see his face find my parents table. hes coming straight for us. i instantly grab san's hand under the table. he turns to me utterly confused, but i cant deal with that right now.

"mi famiglia!" santo loudly says and kisses my parents on the cheek. he gets to me and does the same, his kiss lingering on me longer than i wanted. i suppress a shiver. "tesoro, you look beautiful in the dress i picked! im so glad to see everyone here!"

"we could not have done it without you, santo!" my mother gushes. "you look so handsome!"

"ah, you are making me shy. it is really you people who are stealing the show, wait till you see how the pictures turned out!" he laughs obnoxiously, turning to smile at me.

"im so glad you are here, tesoro. it is good to finally have you back. your sister would be proud of you."

"thank you, santo." i force a smile. when really i want to scream. dont fucking bring her up, i want to scream it. but i force a stupid, docile smile. fuck if this night goes on for any longer, i might end up doing these drugs myself.

"hold on, who is this," santo finally acknowledges san. he holds out his hand to him. "i am santo falcone. but you can call me santo, you are?"

"that is yaera's date," my mother chimes in as san awkwardly takes his hand. "san choi. he is a classmate."

"oh," santo's smile tightens and he glances at me. "just a classmate?"

my father forces a laugh. "of course. do you know me? she can meet someone when it is time to get married."

santo grips san's hand for an uncomfortable amount of time till he ends up needing to rip it away. "nice to meet you, san choi. excuse me, i will return to you all. i have to greet the other guests and then have them run the music. you all enjoy the night."

he leaves, giving me a weird look before going. is he fucking jealous? does he seriously think he owns me? i dont know how my sister worked with him. hes so fucking creepy and somehow that never came up between us.

irina and the others arrive at our table next, greeting my parents with hugs and kisses. "can we steal yaera for a second? she looks so gorgeous!" claire says, gushing.

"no really, i want to rip that dress off you!" anya says. my mother rolls her eyes and laughs.

"please girls, bring her back in one piece for the show." my mother says. a smirk i know to be devious grows on irina's lips.

"oh we will, dont worry, mrs marino."

im so happy to get up from that table. san grabs my dress and looks up like a lost kid. "where are you going? dont leave me by myself here," he says under his breath.

awww hes so awkward. "ill be right back. dont miss me too much."

his eyes are desperate and his smile is so forced its hilarious. "youre really going to leave me with your parents?"

"dont worry she'll be back!" anya tells him, noticing him holding my dress. "your boyfriend is so clingy, yaera."

i can tell san is trying not to murder her with his glare. not more can be said because im whisked away. we end up in the bathrooms that look like something out of the louvre. anya and claire start taking mirror selfies while irina starts putting the money down on the sink.

"all of it is here, you can count it yourself. now where are the stuff?" she says. i start unrolling my sleeves, taking four of the bags out, getting the other five from my boobs.

anya and claire quickly come scrambling. "oh god, finally!" claire says. "we've been waiting so long."

"is it really that good?" i wonder, their relief is crazy to see. "better than what you already do?"

"alone its okay. but together with what we already do? a fucking trip to the skies," irina shakes her head with a smile. "ive never been so glad to know you, marino."

mixing drugs. that doesnt sound smart. but what do i know? im not the addict.

i smile and take the money, folding it back into my boobs. "youre welcome. and you know if you need more, where to call me."

"of course. and you better answer."

"your boyfriend is so fucking hot yaera," anya says with a sigh. "hes literally gorgeous. where did you find him?"

"careful, you cougar. you cant be talking about an 18 year old like that," i joke.

"im not even twenty three shut the fuck up!" she shoves at my shoulder.

"so he is your boyfriend?" claire smiles. the three of them coo like children when i start blushing.

"im getting there guys," i say. "hopefully soon."

"what do his parents do? he looks like a model himself." claire says.

"you know this is yaera, hes probably crazy as fuck. like the last one, what was his name?" irina chimes in with a snort. "i bet this one is the reason she has drugs in the first place."

i scowl at her. shes right but i hate that she read me so easily. "bitch, just enjoy my services. goddamn it you people are nosy."

she raises an eyebrow. "am i right though?"

i roll my eyes and start to leave, saluting on my way out. "im getting back now to my date now, goodbye ladies."

luckily when i get out, theres music playing and people are on the floor. san is sitting alone by the table, taking random sips out of a champagne glass. im so excited. i actually got money back for us. i throw my hands onto his shoulders and smile widely, unable to hold my excitement.

"so guess who collected their first payment?"

san's eyes widen. "all the money there?"

"every last note. so i think to celebrate we should dance."

san frowns and cringes. "i dont dance. im fine here."

i roll my eyes and grab his hand, pulling him up with a hard tug. "is it a sin for you to do ANYTHING fun? the music is playing and we have something to celebrate, come on."

he sighs and gives in with a lame smile. "fine."

i lead him to the dancefloor, swinging my arms around his neck. san's hands drop to my lowerback as we sway and i cant ignore the happiness bubbling in my brain. i cant stop smiling.

"you seem really happy," he notes. "you're getting a big head from your first payment huh?"

"of course. its just what i needed to prove myself to you. that i can pull my weight and that im not just some liability."

"i never said that-"

"yes you did san. many times." i remind him, and his cheeks flush from.embarrassment. "i can even quote you on it if you want?"

"please dont," he chuckles under his breath. "fine, i guess you can pull your weight."

his dimples are piercing through. i stare at him mesmerized and i cant even hide it. i bet if i was a cartoon in this very moment, i'd be having stars in my eyes.

"you're perfect, you know that?" i say without thinking.

san's eyes widen, then darken in seconds. "what?" his voice is just barely together.

"i want to kiss you again," i admit. "i think its all i'll want for a really long time."

i lightly stroke his cheeks, seeing them go rosey. this is all i have. the only thing that shows me that i do affect him.

his eyes dart down to my lips and i shrink the distance between us, till we're just barely a centimeter apart.

"i dont want you to think about it," i tell him. "just do whatever you want in the moment. thats all that matters."

"yaera..." he gulps, then takes a step back. "i-i dont know about this. lets just...this isnt good. for either of us."

"says who?" i scoff.

"says me. you and i should just stay business partners. strictly business. anything else wont end well for either of us."

hearing that makes my heart shatter and my stomach drop. fuck i can feel my eyes filling with water. i try to choke.it down but i know its obvious.

"so you're just gonna.pretend we never kissed at that party?" i lay down my arms from his neck. "youre just going to pretend that never happened?"

san stops dancing and gives me a curt nod. "i think its best we do. we both know i just represent something to you. something forbidden. thats why you want me right? because im someone you cant have."

i laugh bitterly. "i cant fucking believe you."

i feel a tear drop. san sees it and frowns. "yaera wait-"

i swat his hands away from me. "you are such a fucking dick."

i get off the dancefloor and run somewhere. i dont know where. im just walking, looking for a place to break down and sob. god this is so embarrassing. im so fucking pathetic.

i stop infront of a random room and twist the door handle. its unlocked, thank god. i go inside and fall onto the bed, my chest instantly getting wrecked. i start sobbing horrifically, unable to believe how awful i feel right now.

whats wrong with me. what is legitimately wrong with me. why was he so cold? am i not pretty enough for him or something? this cant just be about the business. i refuse to believe it. and even if it is, why do i feel so worthless?

everytime jongho has rejected me and made me feel like nothing but a stupid slut flashes infront of me. the feeling stabs me like a knife.

that must be it. thats probably what he sees me as. a stupid, desperate evil slut. all i do is throw myself at him. even at that party, i couldnt wait to be all over him. im pathetic. and desperate. i should just die.

my gloves are soaked. i cant believe how much im crying. maybe i should go back to therapy. maybe i wasnt coping as well as i thought i was.

i look up into the mirror stand, seeing my make up absolutely ruined. my entire face is red, and my hair is sticking to my soaked cheeks. i look like shit.

suddenly i remember why i stayed away from men in the first place. because im too fucking sensitive. my mood depends on them. my self worth is a reflection of how much they like me. they control whether i feel emotional highs and emotional lows.

i start laughing at myself. i cant believe i got myself into this kind of fuckery again.

the door opens suddenly, making me jolt. santo comes in and closes the door behind him, smiling tightly. i jerk up and start stumbling back, backing myself into a wall to be far away from him.

"what are you doing here?" i ask, my voice shaking.

"i saw you dancing with that...child," he slowly laughs, his tone sounding bitter. "you have no business being with someone like him, tesoro."

"santo-"

"do you know how fucking sick i felt?" he snaps, stalking like a dangerous animal. "seeing you with him? while you wear the dress i picked out for you?"

being alone was a mistake. i try to dart for the door but he grabs me and picks me up, covering my mouth with his hand. he throws me onto the bed, forcing his bodyweight on top of me. im frozen, i cant move. every karate class ive taken, all my knowledge on hurting someone just vanishes. hes on top of me and i cant move.

im sobbing again. he presses his finger to my lip, hushing me.

"i should be the only one who takes this dress off you tonight," he whispers. he starts lowering the top, leaving the top of my chest exposed. "dont cry, tesoro, you'll feel so much better after. ive been waiting for this for so long..."

"no please, santo," i beg through my tears. "please just leave me alone. please just-"

theres a few knocks on the door. "yaera, is that you? can i come in?"

that's san's voice. santo clamps his palm over my lips again and i scream.through them. its muffled. i start struggling and kicking but he wont get off me. he forces his hand harder. "fucking stop," he growls at me.

the door swings open anyway. san barges in and santo quickly jumps off me, suddenly on the other side of the room. san looks between us, frozen in his feet.

"what, did anyone say you could fucking come in?" santo screams. san stays staring between us, his face absolutely blank. santo scoffs and adjusts his suit jacket before storming out and slamming the door.

i sit up on the bed, looking at san through blurry eyes. i cant even find my voice. i cant even deal with what just happened.

"did he try..." san trails off, shaking his head at me. he rushes to sit down next to me. i cant help it, as soon as he wraps his arms around me i start bawling again.

"i cant fucking breathe. san please i just want to get away from here. please can we just leave."

he softly rubs the side of my head as he holds my face in his chest. "lets go. we'll go away from here. far away from.here. anywhere."

***

san

i dont even know where to start.

yaera and i ordered an uber from the hotel, disappearing with the permission of her father, saying she felt sick and she needed to go home. they werent happy but yaera's distraught face convinced them. they have no idea what the fuck happened tonight. they were sitting with that same guy that night.

hell, i dont even know what happened. but i could put two and two together.

yaera and i havent said a word to each other. shes passed out on my chest all the way to my apartment. i have to carry her on the way in. i have to put her down on her feet when its time to go into my apartment, and she hangs on my arm the entire time.

"you sure you fine with this?" i ask her. she nods wordlessly.

i let her inside, and she makes her way to my bed where she falls hopelessly. i go and sit down beside her, not knowing what to say. i dont know any words that can fix what happened tonight.

i know so much about her, but tonight...it made me realize i know nothing.

"this isnt the first time it happened," she says, her voice low and defeated. "the first time he did it...i was fifteen. he touched the inside of my thigh in a dressing room and kept trying it till i never went back. i never told my parents...or my sister."

i dont say anything. i let her speak.

"he told me he would never let me go. that he was in love with me. he tried so many times. at my own house. and everytime i would end up in the hospital...my parents would blame me. they would say that i was acting out. i didnt know how to tell them. they treated santo better me and my sister. hes a saint to them."

i feel my head heating up. a rich prick predator piece of shit. he deserves to disappear. he deserves to fucking rot.

i bet miss A could make a bastard like him disappear really quickly.

i take her hand and gently rub my thumb over her knuckles. i feel terrible. the only reason he was able to follow her was because of me.

"so thats why you asked me to not leave your side," i realized. "so you wouldnt be alone with him."

"he gets jealous of every man who comes near me," yaera's tears leak onto my pillow. "i thought if he saw you...he would really leave me alone this time. but it just...it made him more aggressive. he tried to..."

i pull her up and bring her into another hug, gripping her tightly. it felt like if i let her go that i'd never hold her again. that feeling terrifies me. i hate it so much.

"i'll never let him hurt you again," i swear. "i'll fucking kill him. just say the word and i will."

"i want him off my skin, san," she tells me pleadingly. "i dont want to feel him ever again. i want to scratch my skin off and be clean. i want to feel clean again."

"you arent dirty, yaera. hes the fucking filthy one for putting his hands on you," i hold her face in my hands. shes delicate, like porcelain. her eyes, that are usually so menacing and careless are filled with sadness. "youre perfect. you dont deserve that, dont for a second blame yourself. you're perfect, do you hear me?"

"if im so perfect then why dont you want me?" she whimpers. my blood runs cold. fuck how can she hit me with such a heavy loaded question.

theres no point in lying anymore. this is the last situation where i can lie.

"im scared," i admit. "im scared of you. and this. and everything. ive never had something like this, ive never had someone this close to me. i dont know how to handle it. ive been alone for so long i dont know how to let anyone be near me. i never let myself have anything. i always let go."

"please let me be there," she whispers in a tone i cant refuse. "please dont let me go. let yourself have this. let yourself have me."

my chest hurts. this night isnt going at all how i thought it would. its too much. i dont know what to say to yaera. i find my eyes feeling heavy. she takes my face in her hands again and i know she wants to kiss me. fuck it, this is the worst time. but at this point, there isnt ever a right time.

i go in for it and kiss her first. her lips are soft and velvety, and she melts against mine instantly. we start to lose our softness, with yaera pulling me closer and closer. its like she wants to take all the oxygen out of me. her kiss is hard, like a cry for help, like im all the air she'll ever need.

she breaks the kiss and drags her lips down my neck, making me shudder. yaera makes her way onto my lap and i dont fight it, her legs wrapping around me tightly as her dress rides up her thighs.

the kisses turn hot and i feel my brain losing sense. this wont end here, i know it. i want to stop it. i drag my willpower from the floor to break our kiss and she stares at me, frowning with swollen lips.

"is this really a good time?" i ask seriously. "you're really emotionally vulnerable right now. after what happened tonight, do you really think-"

"san," she interrupts me, pressing another kiss to my lips. "my life has been one big emotional fucked up moment, i want to forget. i want to have this, im so fucking dead inside. i want to feel alive again."

she stops showering me with warm pecks and looks me dead in the eye. "will you give me that?"

i hold her face again. my chest feels warm thinking about how no one sees her like this. her pain. but she trusts me enough. she lets me see it.

"i'll give you whatever you want tonight. i promise."

those words were all she needed. yaera slides her hands over my chest, pushing the suit jacket off. her hands move fast, flicking open every button till my chest is bare.

she presses her lips to mine again, her fingers tugging at my hair. i moan at the pull, surprising myself and her. she breaks the kiss and smiles down at me.

"i could get used to that sound," she teases. something stirs in me. she's so hot.

i move my hands to the back of her dress, finding the zipper. i dont break eye contact, and her smile only grows as the dress starts falling apart on her.

i slowly drag my lips down her neck, and she lets out a shiver. i fight my smile and continue to leave hot, soft kisses down her shoulder, moving down to her barely hidden cleavage. yaera harshly pulls the dress down, having rolls of money fall out and exposing her chest.

***

yaera

san stares at me after my boobs stare at him. there's a dazed look in his eyes that disappears once he lowers his mouth onto my one boob and grabs a hand full of the other.

i throw my head back, lost in a cloud after feeling his warm mouth. he starts sucking and massaging, rolling circles over my nipple. this is heaven. or something close to it definetely.

i feel my thighs tightening, warmth seeping down from my lower stomach. i try to stifle my moans, my mouth just barely gasping. he looks up at me, pausing on his motion. "you dont have to hold back. i told you i'll give you anything you want tonight," he whispers.

i hold his face with both my hands, feeling like i could cum from just staring into his eyes. "i only want you," i admit direly. i'll take anything he gives me. "but rubbing on you would be nice too."

he leans back, making me yearn. "okay, open wider."

hearing those words just makes me hotter. i get up from his lap and completely remove my dress, both of us just ignoring all the money on the floor. san's eyes hang on my every movement. im in nothing but black lace, and i dont waste time in throwing myself on his lap again, legs parted and ready.

he brings his lips to mine again, both softly and yet completely taking them as his own. his hand slips between my thighs, slowly trailing up like hes carressing fragile ceramics. i shiver as he gets closer to me, his hand finally slipping onto the base of me. he drags his thumb down my clothed folds, wrapping his arm around my waist to pull me closer.

i try to focus on kissing him, dragging my teeth down to his neck. i lose myself when he starts rubbing me with both fingers, feeling that jolt of warmth coursing through me.

my mouth is parted as my face is buried in his neck, pathetic whimpers pumping out of me. san starts going in circles, right in the perfect spot. i do myself the favour and move the fabric to the side, his warm fingers completely melting inside me as he pumps them in and out.

i know im doomed when i hear myself squelching. his rhythm is perfect, not too slow and not too fast, just enough for me to completely feel him and fade cloudily. i feel my high coming, my thighs starting to tense and my grip on him tightening. i start to kiss him frantically, till san keeps pushing his fingers faster. i feel like a hot coil, going and going till before i know it, im dripping all over his fingers.

i collapse onto his lap and he slowly drags them out, and i hear him prop them into mouth. i look at him with an accomplished smile on my face, shaking my head.

"you sick fuck, did you just taste me?"

san shrugs with a small smile on his face. "yeah, can you blame me?"

i cant contain myself, i kiss him again. i dont even feel close to done. "let me do something for you now?" i say against his lips.

"mmm mmm," san shakes his head, gently gripping my waist. "i just want you to feel good. do you?"

i nod. "i feel better than ever. but really, you dont want anything?"

he lets out a heavy sigh. "i didnt want to tell you this, but you feeling things makes me...feel things."

oh he just became ten times hotter.

i realize it now, while sitting so close to him, i can feel his massive boner poking me through his pants. i smirk to myself, getting an idea.

"oh no, you have that look on your face again," san mutters, moving my hair back. "what are you thinking?"

"readjust your friend. so i can sit on him."

san goes quiet, but i can feel him pulsing underneath me. its sensation is sending me into fucking heat all over again.

"i dont think we should go too far," he says. "dont get me wrong, i want to. i really do. but i dont think you're feeling hundred percent...after everything."

my smirk drops. i dont want to think of him. not right now. not while i have san's hands all over me. but i guess its not a good look if i do just jump his bones after everything that happened.

he holds my face in his hands and squeezes after i say nothing. "and dont think its because you're not pretty or anything. seriously, i dont know why you would even say that."

i shrug. my black and white state of thinking has never really helped me.

san picks up a pillow up and tosses it against the wall. "come on, lets fall asleep. we can talk again in the morning."

"okay," i mutter. i dont know what else to say. i get off him and and crawl into his bed. san follows after, his hot skin completely blanketing me as he puts his arm over my body and draws me against him.

"are you gonna act like nothing happened tomorrow again?" i ask.

silence.

"no. stop worrying."

his curt words dont register in my brain, because he places a warm kiss on my shoulder. it doesnt take me long to completely drift to sleep.

***

wooyoung

wooyoung knows he fucked up. he knows its all fucked up, he just doesnt know when he's going to tell san about it.

miss A is looking at him with cold eyes, he cant even utter a word because of the fear inside him. seonghwa is sprawled out on a broken couch, horrific burns all over him. hes barely alive, but he had it in him enough to tell everyone about what went down at the warehouse.

"changbin is dead, you know this right?" miss A tells him.

"yes, ma'am," he utters pathetically.

"so you know what you and lucky have to do."

he knows he cant stay a bitch in this gang for long. he knows its going to get real. petty stuff is all wooyoung is used to. extortion, scamming people. when he watched yunho die, a fear he thought was so far away just flashed infront of his eyes. he knew he'd come to be on the other end someday.

"you find that man...and you bring me his hand. or else, i'll have yours."

***

A/N: pls this chapter was a mess im sorry and it took forever to write , the next will be better 😭😭😭😭

NEXT CHAPTER

tagslist: @yujispinkhair @brown88 @sansonlygf

[anyathefandom]

I love how the first half of this chapter was everybody going: "So wtf is going at the wsb?!!🧐" And the second half was Wallace and Irina being domestic in the only way a Mafia boss and a Former Spy can be.😂

From Irina being intrigued by what Wallace does for a living now: “Booze up, schmooze up: that's the game plan.”

Irina watched curiously as Wallace paced the floor in front of her, his phone pressed against his ear. She sat in a ball on the sofa, curled up in blankets. Part of her looked on in wonder, another part in fear, and a small part like a stranger. Months passed between her trip with Dex and the present moment, and while she was just as much a resident in the house as Wallace was, she still felt like a guest staying for her very first night.

“Senator Reynolds is a bonafide alcoholic,” he continued speaking into the device, “You saw it firsthand when he whipped out his flask in the corner. That's our in, because when his inhibition's down, his affability's up. You could weasel any information you wanted out of him with some whiskey and ego stroking.”

Irina tried to avert her gaze, her cheeks a bright pink as she wrestled feelings of frustration and intrigue as the man worked. She snuggled into the fabric around her, taking in the fresh fleece scent.

“What do I want you to do?” Wallace scoffed in disbelief, “I want you to get intel on his party's platform. Get me dirt on how and why they're pivoting into this random, unknown energy company. It'll either be a shell or something we can put our own stake in. Remember: booze up, schmooze up. Got it?” he froze to hear the caller's response, “Good. Call me when you get something.”

“This is your job,” she remarked as he looked her way. He shook his head, donning a smile before sitting down on the opposite end of the couch, pulling her and the fabric she's wrapped in against his chest.

“It is my job,” he spoke softly, kissing her forehead, “and this is the umpteenth time you made that observation. You know you don’t have to keep saying that, right?”

“I know, but…it’s still a bit unbelievable.”

“You'll get used to it.”

“Will I?” she looked up at him as he ran a hand through her blonde hair, “You have so many skills and talents and you're choosing the world of politics?”

“I'm not in the world of politics…not legitimately anyway,” he replied, “What I do, my love, is deal in secrets.”

“And that makes a difference?”

“I'd like to think so. Corruption, affairs, disease, my organization snuffs it all out, or, if we feel a bit frisky, we start it.”

To a smooth transition to this🫠:

“Frisky?” a smile immediately formed on her face as she giggled.

“Yeah,” he sighed bashfully, “I may or may not have said that on purpose, and it looks like I got what I wanted.”

“Oh, you're evil,” Irina turned to face him directly, planted on her hands and knees.

“Is that so?” Wallace smirked before he felt her lips touch his. They moved in perfect sync, his hands cupping her cheeks, swallowing her giggles and moans.

She pulled back first, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. I'm glad you're here.”

Me: This couple right here has the range!

Then them looking at dex's childhood pictures🥲: “Me too,” she got to her feet, meandering around the living room. She ran her fingers across a nearby bookshelf, stopping when she felt plastic against her skin.

“The scrapbook,” she murmured. Wallace stood by and approached her, pulling the book out. It existed as a laminated rectangle, blues and greens in stripes and polka dots cover the exterior.

“You've been avoiding this thing since you moved in,” he stated, “I mean, I probably shouldn't have tried to make you look through it when you were trying to get comfortable with everything but-”

“Let me see it.”

He handed her the item, watching as she retook her seat on the sofa. He joined her, wrapping an arm around her, his hand cupping her waist. She took a deep breath before turning the front cover over, her heart skipping a beat at the very first photo. A young boy, no older than five, laid on his stomach as he slept on a felt black surface, his face round and clean and his eyelids free of any creases.

“This is the oldest picture I have of him,” Wallace said softly, “I took it the night we moved in. The cross-country car ride tuckered him out.”

“He's sleeping on…?”

“An air mattress. We ended up sharing that thing for a little bit before the upstairs was done.”

“This house wasn't even built yet?”

“It was; it was just abandoned.”

“Oh,” Irina huffed as she continued to turn the pages. Each image she saw of Dex tugged harder and harder at her heartstrings: school photos, family portraits, candids. A small lump began to form in her throat, “God…”

“We can stop if you want,” Wallace reached for the book.

“No, no, I'm glad I'm looking through it. It's nice to see that Dexter's childhood was preserved in these photos.”

“I did keep them for basic sentimental reasons, but, uh, I'd be lying if I said I didn’t also keep them for you to see.”

“You're always thinking of me,” she smiled sweetly.

“Not a day goes by that I don't,” he pulled her closer, holding her against him, “and I'll keep doing it. Because I love you.”

“I love you too,” she kissed him, turning back to the photos, “and I love our boy. These all seem like an entire lifetime ago.”

“Yeah,” Wallace leaned in towards the album, “even I can't believe he's in his mid-twenties. The years just flew by.”

Me: So who wants to revive Helena just so she can get killed again?😄

“That they did,” Irina frowned as she caught teenaged photos, especially a few in the hospital, “What was this about?”

“That…” Wallace gulped, “was back when Dex was working for me. He got in a fight with a rival's son.”

“...Did he win?”

“He did.”

Me: Honestly Irina and Wallace are so made for each other because I just know if the positions were reversed Wallace would be asking the same thing.😂

“I still can't believe you had our child working for your ‘business.’”

“It was a good idea at the time, and he was an excellent spy, but…it did do some damage to our relationship.”

“Maybe one day that damage can be repaired.”

“Maybe, but the ball's in his court, so he'd be the one to make it happen,” his voice then dropped to a mutter, “if he even wants it to happen.”

Me: *Manifesting the Repair of Wallace's and Dex's relationship* Like you don't understand that's my emotional support Father and Son duo.🥺

Okay and I loved this moment of Irina showing why she was such a good spy and why Wallace always remains down bad for her:

Irina raised an eyebrow at him when the sound of his under-the-breath babble caught her attention. His phone then buzzed in his pocket, and he got to his feet to answer.

“What do you have for me?” he asked, pacing the floor, “...He what?”

“What is it?”

He lowered the device, gritting his teeth as he spoke, “Senator Reynolds caught my spy.”

“Oh…”

“Clarke, where are you?” Wallace continued, “You're still at his office? Okay, how did he react? Does he know about the business?” the man relaxed his shoulders, “Okay, good…what? He's what?”

“Let me see,” Irina approached the man, reaching for the phone, “Hello? Yes, put the senator on the phone.”

“Irina-” Wallace stopped himself when she held up a finger to silence him.

“Hi, yes, Senator Reynolds. I'm so sorry for all this trouble. My son is a big fan of yours, a very zealous one considering your position on energy, and he got in over his head by approaching you and trying to commiserate. Rest assured that it won't happen again, and I'll straighten him out once he comes home,” she donned a wide smile, “Thank you, I appreciate your kindness and grace. I wish you the best, sir. Goodbye,” she ended the call, handing the device back to Wallace, “Your employee will have a lot to answer for once he comes here, I'm sure.”

“...I love you,” he pulled her into him, planting a heavy kiss on her lips. She giggled as she pulled back, her hands on his shoulders.

“I think I see why you got Dexter involved,” she half-heartedly admitted.

“Yeah, my men need some work,” he laughed in response, “but thank you. You really saved my ass.”

“Whatever you need,” she grinned.

“Even if it means helping out with the business?”

“...Yes,” she nodded, a defeated smile on her face, “I'll help with that too.”

“Lay it on me,” she replied before she followed him to his office, her education beginning the moment she shut the door behind her.

“Thank you, liebling,” Wallace pulled her into a tight hug, “I appreciate it more than you know,” he stepped back enough, holding her hands in his as he wore a wide, excited smirk on his face, “and I think the first order of business will be a crash course on the in and outs of the business.”

Me:

Me: I'm getting Irina and Wallace maximizing their joint slay with the business in the year 2024?!

As always I can't wait for the next chapter!!!

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

"Thank you for being mine." Ze: моя

I hope you enjoy it, anon! 🤗

"And you're sure?"

Volodymyr closed the last buttons of his shirt as he looked at Olena through the mirror. She was lying sideways on his bed, her bare legs covered and wearing his hoodie, her head resting on one hand and a pencil tucked behind her ear. Lost in thought, Olena nibbled at her lower lip, her forehead slightly furrowed in concentration, and without realising it, she kept clicking the pen in her hand. Her eyes were fixed on the book in front of her, a notepad and flashcards beside it. Blinking, Olena looked up from the book, then smiled as she caught his gaze.

"Yes, absolutely," Olena replied and watched as Volodymyr put the finishing touches to his outfit, her gaze perhaps lingering on his butt for a few seconds.

Volodymyr tucked a stubborn corner of the shirt back into his trousers, then smoothed the fabric before running his fingers through his hair a few times until all the strands were the way he wanted them. And because Volodymyr had no idea where he had put his comb, he had been looking for it for two days.

"And I really can't convince you?" Volodymyr asked again, turning to Olena.

With a smirk, he noticed that she quickly raised her eyes and blushed slightly. Volodymyr found it absolutely adorable that Olena blushed at the sight of his clothed butt, especially when he thought of what they had done just half an hour ago. Then again, absolutely everything Olena did was adorable.

"I can undress again and put on something new if you don't like my clothes," Volodymyr said teasingly, raising an eyebrow coquettishly. 

"Let's see ..." Olena replied playfully and motioned for him to turn around, which he did.

"Unfortunately, there's no need for you to change your clothes again. You look very chic. And as always, you're incredibly handsome," she commented, and he grinned. "And no, you can't."

Pouting playfully, Volodymyr walked over to his bed and dropped onto the mattress next to Olena as she sat up. Volodymyr took her hand lovingly and began to play with Olena's fingers, intertwining them with his own before stroking them gently.

"But the evening will be terribly boring without you," Volodymyr whined, and Olena's smile widened a little.

"I'm sure you'll have a lot of fun without me," she replied, placing her free hand on his cheek. "I'd just be a nuisance. And I'd be the only girl. Have a nice evening with the boys, and next time, I'll come with you."

Volodymyr pushed his lower lip out a little more, and Olena leaned over and kissed him gently on the cheek. Playfully reluctant, he nodded slowly. She was indeed right. Lenny had to work, Irina was in bed with the flu and the other girls had also cancelled. 

"But I'd have a much nicer evening and more fun if I wasn't alone," Volodymyr grumbled in a last attempt to convince Olena, and she giggled when she saw his puppy dog eyes.

"You can hardly talk about being alone with your big group," Olena laughed, and Volodymyr sighed. "And I'm sure you'll have more fun without me."

"But I'm going to miss you terribly all evening," he replied with a smile and leaned towards her.

"Denys, Sasha and the others will distract you so much that you won't think about me for a second," Olena said with a twinkle in her eye.

"That is absolutely not possible. I think about you all the time," Volodymyr replied, and before she could say anything back, he kissed Olena. "I'll miss you so much, I might just have to sneak back home early," he teased with a mischievous grin between two kisses.

She smiled against his lips and looked at Volodymyr in love as they broke the kiss.

"I still feel guilty about leaving you here alone," he said softly, his eyes conveying a sense of concern, and Olena gently stroked a strand of hair from his forehead.

"There's no need for that," she reassured him, her hand gently squeezing his. "I'm going to continue working on my term paper, and I still have to write the new draft of the sketch. And besides, your Mama is coming home later tonight, and I'm sure she'll be happy if I keep her company instead of her sitting alone in the living room. And I'm looking forward to having some time to myself. As much as I like going out with you and the others, it's been a bit much lately."

"All right," Volodymyr replied quietly, returning her smile before giving Olena a tender kiss. "You would tell me if it bothered you that I was going out without you, wouldn't you?"

"I would," she confirmed, sliding a little closer to Volodymyr so that he could wrap his arms around her middle. "But as you know, I'm happiest when I'm alone or with you," Olena continued, his heart beating faster as he saw the love in her eyes, a subtle hint of longing and affection in her voice. "Or with the girls," she added with a gentle laugh, which Volodymyr joined. "And now off you go, or you'll be late. The cinema won't wait for you."

"But only if I get a kiss goodbye," he said flirtatiously, wiggling his eyebrows, which made Olena giggle.

Then she kissed him sweetly, and Volodymyr kissed her back. When Olena tried to break the kiss, he pulled her close again.

"And another kiss," Volodymyr said with a smile and kissed Olena again. "And one more."

Another kiss.

"And another kiss."

She laughed against his lips and jokingly tried to push him away, but Volodymyr pulled Olena tightly into his arms before placing his hands on her cheeks and holding Olena in place as he planted a big, passionate kiss on her lips, humming with pleasure. The smile on Olena's face when they looked at each other again made her eyes light up.

"I love you," Volodymyr said, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs.

"I love you too."

Olena gave him one last, very affectionate kiss, then he stood up and picked up his jacket.

"See you later," Volodymyr said to her as he blew Olena a kiss and then left the room.

"Bye!" she called after Volodymyr and was just about to make herself comfortable again when her eyes slid across his desk and she spotted something on it. "Vova! Your wallet!"

Hurried footsteps sounded in the corridor before Volodymyr came through the door he had just left ajar.

"I haven't forgotten it. I just wanted to see if you were paying attention," he jokingly justified himself, quickly slipping the wallet into his jacket pocket.

"Uh-huh," Olena replied, raising an eyebrow in amusement.

Volodymyr blew her another kiss and disappeared back into the corridor. But as soon as he was out of the room, Olena saw the next thing he had forgotten. It was only a moment before she heard Volodymyr's footsteps in the corridor again. Olena was already holding out the key that had been lying next to his bed when he poked his head through the door again.

"Another test to see if I'm paying attention?" she asked amusedly as Volodymyr hurried over to her.

"No, I forgot it this time. But my forgetfulness is a very charming quality of mine that you love very much," he replied just as jokingly, and as Volodymyr was about to reach for the key, Olena pulled it away.

She pursed her lips, and he kissed her before Olena handed him his keys.

"But now I have everything," Volodymyr said but suddenly stopped. "No, wait, one more thing is missing ..." he continued, planting a kiss on her cheek.

With a smug grin, Volodymyr hurried out of the room. Smiling, Olena made herself comfortable on his bed again as she finally heard the front door slam shut. 

It was just after two in the morning when Volodymyr quietly unlocked the front door and crept into the apartment. He was just about to put his things down quietly when Volodymyr saw a light under the crack of the living room door. As he entered, his mother looked up from the shirt she was sewing and gave him a friendly smile.

"You're home early, Volodenka," she said as Volodymyr returned her smile and went over to Rimma to give her a kiss on the cheek in greeting. "Lena said you wouldn't be home until morning. Has something happened?" she asked, moving the box of sewing supplies next to her on the sofa so that Volodymyr could sit down.

Then she looked down at the shirt in her hands and resumed sewing.

"No, I was just tired and wanted to go home. And when the boys wanted to go to the next disco, I took the opportunity to say goodbye."

Rimma nodded as Volodymyr watched her mend a hole in one of his shirts. 

"There's no place like home," Rimma said, smiling briefly at him.

"And why are you still awake, Mama?"

"You know, Volodenka, I can't sleep when you're out at night. And I finally wanted to do the sewing that's been lying around for weeks," she explained to Volodymyr, pointing to a pile of shirts lying next to her on the sofa. "Your father will soon have nothing else to wear, and I've mended your shirts too."

"That's very kind, Mama, but I could have done it myself," Volodymyr said with a slight smile.

Rimma looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"If I wait for that, you'll take your next exams naked," she replied dryly and knotted the thread before cutting off the remains. "And I certainly won't let Lena sew your shirts and trousers just because you're too lazy to pick up a needle," Rimma added reproachfully, giving him a scolding look. "It's bad enough that the poor girl does your laundry. You're perfectly capable of washing your own bedclothes."

"Thank you. And you're right," Volodymyr murmured, his cheeks feeling warm.

He leaned over to his mother and gave her a conciliatory kiss on the cheek, which made Rimma smile.

"Olena's gone to bed, by the way. I put your pyjamas in the bathroom," she continued, and Volodymyr nodded gratefully. 

"Did you have a nice evening?" he asked as his mother folded his shirt.

Meanwhile, Volodymyr hurried to clear up her sewing supplies.

"Oh yes!" she said enthusiastically, smiling happily. "Oh, she's such a lovely girl! When I came home, she had already cooked dinner for us. And then she kept me company all evening. But when she fell asleep on the sofa, I sent her to bed. She wanted to wait for you," Rimma said, smiling at him.

Then she handed Volodymyr the clothes before picking up the box with her sewing supplies and getting up. Volodymyr followed his mother to the large cupboard in the living room where Rimma stored the sewing supplies.

"By the way, if you ever think about her moving in with us... you have my blessing. She's an excellent cook and her mother taught her well how to run a household," she remarked suddenly, and Volodymyr laughed uncertainly.

"I'll remember that ..." he said evasively.

"Don't look like that, Volodymyr. You have to let your old mother at least occasionally think about it. After all, neither your father and I nor the two of you are getting any younger, and, as far as I know, you have always wanted lots of children. Besides, you've been a couple for quite some time now," Rimma explained matter-of-factly, taking the clothes from him. "So it's only logical that I'm wondering what the future holds for you two."

His mother turned and walked into the bedroom, and for a moment, Volodymyr stood looking after her, perplexed. He hadn't expected to have this conversation now, but since his mother had brought it up ... . Volodymyr hesitantly followed her, standing indecisively and nervously by the door as she put the clothes away in the wardrobe.

"Mama ... can I ask you something ..." he began haltingly.

With raised eyebrows, Rimma turned to Volodymyr and looked at him, waiting.

"Sure. What's on your mind?"

Volodymyr faltered. There was something that had been occupying his mind for a few months. Was now a good time ...? Maybe it was the alcohol that gave Volodymyr the courage he needed, or maybe it was just love. Either way, he gathered his courage and cleared his throat slightly as Volodymyr searched for the right words.

"What ..." he began slowly, swallowing, his heart suddenly beating fast as his hands became sweaty. "What would you think if ..." Volodymyr continued but stopped short. "Well ... if ... um ... if I wanted to ... wanted to marry Len? ... What would you say?"

There was a moment of silence while his mother looked at him, then frowned a little.

"It depends."

"On what?"

"Is Olena the love of your life?"

Without a moment's hesitation, Volodymyr nodded, the answer so clear in his mind that he didn't even need to think about it. A happy smile appeared on his face as butterflies fluttered in his stomach.

"And do you want to spend the rest of your life with her?"

"Yes," Volodymyr said immediately, nodding affirmatively. "I can't imagine loving another person as much as I love Len. Or loving anyone else at all," he added quietly, and Rimma's smile softened.

"Well, she's a very sweet, decent and hard-working girl. Very smart, incredibly pretty. She's a good person, and I'm sure she'll make a fantastic mother one day. And when I see the way she looks at you, I know she loves you with all her heart. And that's all a mother can ask for in a daughter-in-law for her son.

His mother had come over to him as she spoke and now put a hand on his cheek. Volodymyr smiled gratefully and felt a lump form in his throat from sheer emotion.

"Is there something I should know, Volodenka?" Rimma asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No! No, no. I ... only ask hypothetically. I'm not planning on proposing to her any time soon. I think we'll take our time," Volodymyr said hastily, shaking his head.

"Very reasonable," his mother agreed, smiling. "But when the time comes - you have my blessing for that too."

As quietly as possible, Volodymyr finally slipped into his room. The room was lit only by the moonlight streaming through the window. Olena had turned her back to the door. He saw the blanket rise and fall steadily, and for a moment, Volodymyr listened to her breathing as she slept soundly. His heart grew light, and Volodymyr had to smile. The tingling in his body intensified as he thought that, with a bit of luck, this could be his future. Volodymyr tiptoed over to the bed and carefully sat down on it. He placed his slippers next to Olena's and slowly crawled under the blanket. But the mattress gave way under his weight and moved so much that Olena began to grumble. Then she sighed and turned her head in his direction in confusion, her eyes still closed. 

"Vova?" Olena mumbled sleepily, so quiet that the rustling of the blanket was almost louder.

Volodymyr quickly lay down beside her and cuddled up to Olena. He carefully put an arm around her waist and found Olena's hand under the blanket. She smiled slightly and sighed happily as Volodymyr intertwined his fingers with hers. Then Olena pulled his arm tighter around her waist. Smiling, Volodymyr leaned over and kissed Olena tenderly on the cheek.

"Hey. Go back to sleep," he whispered, kissing Olena's cheek again.

She smiled as Volodymyr kissed her, and when he eventually stopped, Olena turned to face him. Volodymyr wrapped his arms tightly around her as Olena snuggled close to his body. He kissed her gently on the hair, and Olena wrapped her arms around Volodymyr's middle to snuggle even closer to him. Her face was almost completely buried in the nape of his neck, and Volodymyr could feel Olena's warm breath on his skin. He tangled her legs together and ran a hand lovingly down her back.

"Hey ..." Olena greeted him, and Volodymyr saw her lift her head drowsily and open her eyes before Olena yawned widely.

Her eyelids were heavy, her cheeks slightly flushed, and her hair dishevelled. Volodymyr smiled with deep affection. Olena looked simply enchanting at that moment. Then, his smile became apologetic.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," Volodymyr said ruefully, but she shook her head slightly.

"It's all right. You're back already," Olena said after looking at the alarm clock.

"I wanted to come home. And to you," he whispered, full of love, pulling Olena closer into his arms. "I missed my girl," Volodymyr breathed, stroking her cheek and then her hair.

Olena's eyes lit up. Her heart began to beat wildly, and a blissful giggle escaped her before she bit her lower lip and beamed at him. 

"Did you have a nice evening?" Olena asked, her voice a little too high as she ran her fingertips down Volodymyr's upper arm.

He could feel himself getting goosebumps. Volodymyr hummed in agreement.

"It was very nice. We all had a great time. Greetings from the boys," he replied, smiling. "And I missed you terribly," Volodymyr whispered, and Olena's whole body tingled, even more so when he looked at her in love. "And you? How was your evening?"

"I did everything I wanted to do for my term paper. I'm halfway through the script for the sketch, and I had a really nice evening with your Mama. She showed me a new embroidery pattern and helped me with one my Mama taught me the other day. And old episodes of KVN were on TV, and we watched them on the side," Olena said, smiling.

"I'm glad you had a nice evening too."

She stretched a little and planted a soft kiss on Volodymyr's lips, which he returned.

"Now that you're back, it's a perfect evening," Olena whispered, kissing Volodymyr again.

Then she snuggled back against his body and yawned as tiredness suddenly returned. Volodymyr couldn't hold back a yawn either, as his eyelids began to get heavy. As Volodymyr fought against it and continued to stroke Olena's back, he felt her relax and slowly fall asleep again.

"Vova?" Volodymyr suddenly heard her whisper and looked at Olena.

"Yes, my darling?" Volodymyr asked lovingly, and she smiled.

"Can you say the other one again?"

"You mean 'my girl'?"

Olena nodded, and he placed a deep kiss on her hair.

"My girl," Volodymyr whispered then, and although he couldn't see Olena, Volodymyr could feel her smile of joy.

"Again," Olena said, the love clearly audible in her voice.

"My girl," Volodymyr repeated, also putting all his love into each letter.

A gentle nudge to his side followed.

"My girl," Volodymyr continued, and then there was silence.

"Can you say it again?" he heard Olena ask once more, her voice heavy with weariness.

"My girl," Volodymyr replied, and a heartbeat passed before he continued. "Thank you for being mine."

Olena felt her heart almost bursting with love at that moment. She lifted her head and opened her eyes once more before looking at Volodymyr speechlessly for a moment. Even though his sentence was so simple, it touched her soul so deeply. 

"Thank you for being mine too," Olena breathed, and Volodymyr's heart became light and heavy with love at the same time. "And for loving me so much and making me happy."

"The simplest and most beautiful thing in the world," he replied. "My girl," Volodymyr added just before he kissed Olena.

Volodymyr felt her lips curl into a smile before Olena returned his intimate kiss with devotion. Then she slowly fell back asleep in his arms while Volodymyr's eyes remained on her, studying Olena and wondering how he could be so lucky. Meanwhile, Volodymyr continued to caress her back, whispering the words over and over again so that they would linger in Olena's dreams.

My girl.

Mine. 

And in his mind, Volodymyr added something else that he was not yet brave enough to say out loud. Not now, not today. One day, some day.

My girl.

My future wife.

Mine.

[cayde-6-hunter-vanguard]

Irina, the awaken witch: "Have you ever considered yourself a romantic exo-boy? Such as... Red Roses? Chocolates? Candle-light dinners, maybe with a bowl of ramen (even if I prefer pizza)? Walk on beach? I find you REALLY handome, super-sweet and romantic. I might be a perfect Queen of Hearts!" *Kisses him on lips* 😊😘❤️

Am I a romance kinda guy?

There's always time for everything right?

I'll humour you on this one.

I could say I'm the romantic type. Could be the kinda guy that does enjoy the cheesy long walks on the beach, or even the ones who learn to play love songs on old busted guitars.

I'd say if I had a love language (which I do thank you very much) it would be quality time. The idea of being able to spend time with someone means more to me that anything else.

Time is a precious thing. It keeps going regardless of what you want or say. So the ability to spend time with the people I care about means the world to me.

he pulls at his scarf, clearing his throat

Appreciate the compliment as always. My Queen of Hearts though? See that's where things get a bit tricky here. Never much liked touching the idea or futzing about with it. Always wanted/liked the idea of if she a mystery or not.

Now I'm not saying she's not real outright. She could be real. I'm just saying that title is a real big deal to be throwin' out there.

But never say never right?

[ruki--mukami]

Being today a special day, the young woman decided to take a day off to be able to give all her time and attention to her life partner, her lover, her husband... The vampire who would celebrate another year in his long life on that cloudy afternoon, overshadowing the scorching rays of the sun to welcome everyone in its shadow.

In fact, that made it a perfect day for the married couple.

Irina arrived at her familiar abode with black boxes in hand that she had hidden in her parents' house in order to give the raven-haired man a pleasant surprise. The gifts were carefully placed on the dining room table accompanied by beautiful blue periwinkles and spotless jasmines to present an almost flawless welcome as her necklace of brilliant sapphire and emerald that was presented to her on her own special day.

The few servants had been blessed with a vacation after doing their job of leaving the home in a perfect state, as the blonde woman wished to be alone with her husband in the comfort of their home.

Soon, the sound of the metal rubbing against each other from the giggling keys caught Irina's attention. Finally, he is home.

Irina quickly hurried to get to the front door so she could receive the newcomer with a warm smile, running to serve him with delicacy and affection.

"You've finally arrived, how good... I was waiting for you."

She spoke placing her feminine hands on the man's broad shoulders as she rose slightly on her tiptoes, wanting to catch the Mukami's lips with her own in a chaste but affectionate kiss.

"Happy birthday, my dear Ruki." She smiled softly, narrowing her eyes a little as she joined their foreheads together. "I have something prepared for you, but I think you already expected that." Irina giggled softly, kissing the boy's cheek before taking his hand. "Let's take a look, I hope you'll like it."

Wasting no more time, the champagne haired woman dragged Ruki to the dining room where she had prepared her little surprise.

This time it wasn't something very extravagant, but it was a very intimate detail.

Leaving the Mukami's hand for a moment, Irina undid the tie on one of the boxes in order to present the cake she had baked herself, obviously with that humorous and dorkie touch that she loved to show in the company of her dear husband.

"I know this is not a classic birthday cake, but I wanted to give you something not so repetitive." Irina excused herself while giving a lighthearted chuckle. "I had to bake it at my parents' house so I could hide from you. It would be impossible to prepare a surprise for you knowing that you don't like me very much when I'm not around for a long time."

"I made the dough with beets and coffee, plus the frosting is actually a whipped cream cheese so it shouldn't be too sweet for you." She pointed out knowing very well the preferences of her spouse.

Leaving the dessert aside, Irina brought the other gift boxes in front of the jet waiting for him to open them.

In one of the black boxes there was a pair of personalized socks, again with the touch of humor that Irina loved to use so much.

"You're a bit of a curmudgeon when you get away from everyone so you can be alone with your books, you seem to need a 'do not disturb' sign taped to your forehead, so I bought some socks that would do just that perfectly." Irina couldn't help but clasp their hands in a firm grip, as if Ruki would dissipate at any moment, leaving her longing for his company again. "Speaking of reading... Later we could read a little together one of your favorite books in our garden after dinner, in the moonlight and the candles perched on the green grass of our own little flora... The two of us alone with each other's company. I think that's just perfect, don't you think?"

Finally it was time to deliver the most important gift of all. In another of the boxes there was a book made by Irina's own hands, who chose the best wood and leather to make that little souvenir for herself.

"Here... If you open it like this, you'll have a mini album of our photos together in the most special moments. The trips we had, the celebrations, our little adventures or just casual photos to remember the moment. We have such a long life that sadly we won't be able to remember in detail what we lived together, so I always try to capture our time to never forget it."

Suddenly, the Owl's cheekbones began to turn a soft reddish color due to the heat that rose to the female's face.

"I— I wrote some of my thoughts or feelings about you or us in general that went through my mind and heart at the time, just below the photos... Sometimes I don't know how I can tell you these kind of things since I lack the words, so I decided better to express it in writing."

The blonde held the air in her lungs for a moment, and raised her gaze to fix it on the other, forcing the essence of their irises to intermingle until making her own landscape, feeling like a collapse of galaxies every time they exchanged glances.

"I would love to be able to give you everything to make you happy since you deserve it, and I would love to be able to leave a deeper mark than your past so that you can start a new page. I'm here, only for and just you, being by your side as always and taking care to let you know that I will love even your most serious sins because they are part of you."

Trapping Ruki in a loving embrace, Irina immediately closed the distance between them brushing her cherry-like lips as a threat that at any moment she would seal her adoration for her husband.

"I could point out that you have questionable ideals for human morality, but that's what I love the most about you. I adore that we have our differences and often have a daily challenge because you try to have the power. It is a part that although it bothers me at the time, I end up falling in love even more to be able to live a life far from a fairy tale."

Unable to resist anymore, the blonde linked their union in a slow and passionate kiss, filled with a deep affection that would be impossible to describe, leaving it as a secret that only the hearts of both vampires know. Irina dragged her fingers through her black hair to tangle the strands around her digits, while her lips danced with loving aggressiveness until they were almost numb and out of breath.

The woman separated for a moment, as always with a excited smile and a sweet and dreamy look that she only showed her spouse.

"Happy birthday again, Ruki. Let's have a memorable day together, yes?"

||*coughs dust* luckily I got some energy for Ruki's bd 🏃🏼‍♀️✨️✨️||

"Irina... You're home. And here I thought I would've arrived before you, but it turns out I was mistaken. What a pleasant surprise indeed," the Vampire smiled ever so slightly, quickly transforming from bewildered to besotted the instant their lips met. "It smells quite fragrant, and I don't sense any other presences in the area as well. Don't tell me... You secured the estate for just the two of us? All for my birthday, no less. You truly went out of your way for my sake, even though it's just any other ordinary day—"

Halting his train of thought, Ruki recalled the last birthday of his that the couple celebrated together and how Irina surprised him in such a similar yet different way. Before he met the eminent, champagne-haired woman who now stood before him as his cherished wife, the Vampire always considered birthdays to be little more than a worthless, sentimental, and time-wasting occasion amidst a pathetic world of trial after tribulation. However, meeting someone beyond special—having the ultimate privilege of spending this time with the woman he loves more than anyone he has ever encountered and will encounter in the future—reminded the eldest Mukami just how precious this date could be for the two of them, whether it was his own birthday or Irina's. Together they would forever find new ways to surprise the other despite their long-lived, immortal years.

"—No, I suppose that's not true whatsoever. Each moment I spend with you, I realize that I don't feel the same as I did in the past. There was a time I would've undoubtedly scoffed at a birthday surprise like this, thinking very little of it. I would've questioned your reasons for going to such great lengths to impress me, but I can see clearly now. I can see that it's not just some ploy to get on my good side, or to gain something else in return for your noble efforts. This... This is all the work of someone who genuinely cares for me. Ha, how strange... It's strange I can say that so easily now, thanks to you, Irina."

When his beloved wife showed him to the dining room with the most forward cake he has ever seen, Ruki failed to stifle a chuckle of disbelief, eyes drawn to the large cursive letters on the top of the jet-black dessert.

"How rude," he said jokingly, shaking his head as if the whole display had been a dream. "If I am 'your toxic,' then what does that make you? My antidote? No, that's far too generous... You must be some undiscovered form of arsenic if I'm toxic."

Slowly tilting his head to the side, Ruki caught a glimpse of the text on the side of the cake which only exacerbated the wicked smirk on his face.

“Not very subtle of you, but then again, you never were. I do love that about you, Irina. I can’t believe you hid a cake this straightforward from me… but I can’t say I dislike it at all. Just from the scent alone, I can already tell it was baked with incredible attention to detail.”

Given the cake’s foundation and lack of sweetness, the Vampire found himself wanting to try a bite immediately, but he would wait for the most opportune moment to exult it within the comfort of his spouse, perhaps even feeding a mouthful of it directly to her the way a doting husband would, even if the thought of doing something so embarrassing vexed him.

After the blonde presented the carefully selected yet oddly charming gifts to him, again, Ruki could not help but snicker.

“What outrageous socks these are… I’ve never seen anything like them,” he cachinnated, picking the socks up by the cuffs to examine them further. The garments struck him as unusual, yet perhaps this was also his wife’s way of telling him to relax every now and then and literally put his feet up rather than sit so stiffly in his armchair. “Fine, I’ll be sure to treasure them, especially when they complement those livestock slippers you gave me last year so well.”

Upon hearing the Owl’s suggestion, coupled with the not-so-subtle message on the cake, Ruki soon imagined a number of different possibilities for their night together. One of relaxation, yet also a romantic tryst dripping with passion.   

“Certainly. I’d love to read outside for a change now that the weather has been more forgiving as of late. Especially with you by my side, Irina. The flowers have begun to bloom so beautifully, but they still pale in comparison to you. And,” he leaned in closer, letting her take his hands into his while he gently pressed his forehead against hers as his voice took on a seductive lilt, “if the reading doesn’t tire you out, then I know exactly what will help you sleep soundly.”

Lastly, yet to the zenith of his satisfaction, the book filled with their most cherished memories together instantly suffused Ruki in a stupor of elation as he relived those moments page by page, observing how joyous the two of them looked at the ceremony of their union, the cruise ship that showed them to various wonders, and the safari in which the wild animals looked tame compared to the married couple.

“I don’t know what to say, Irina. Truth be told, it occasionally irritated me whenever my photo needed to be taken more than necessary, but in the end I’m eternally grateful you would capture these timeless memories of us. You look far more photogenic than I do, though. Perhaps that’s the natural talent of being an idol? Or perhaps my wife simply possesses a smile unlike any other,” he praised sincerely, holding the Owl close to him. “I’ll always keep this with me no matter what.”

Despite the hardship Ruki endured as a human child that led to his vampirism in the first place, he always kept his father’s memento close. However, entering this new chapter of his life, and staring directly into the vibrant photos and innermost feelings Irina confided underneath its contents, he decided to himself that he would keep this book in his strap from here forward instead, taking his wife’s words seriously. Both figuratively and literally, he would cast away his past and no longer dwell on it for the sake of their marriage and sooner or later, their own family, focusing on what he considers dearest.

“You already have. You have left a mark so deep, so permanently etched into my very being, that I could never let you go. Everything from that smile of yours, to these hands that caress me so delicately, to the future we will share together—I will protect it all. Next year, the year after that, just like I promised you I would. Everything from the brightest of your aspirations that you strive so earnestly to reach, to the darkest of your soul that you try to keep concealed, I shall continue to love all sides of you. It’s true that we have our differences, but you have challenged me to think in new ways as well. You’ve taught me so much without realizing it, Irina. And I’m only excited to see what else we can learn from each other.”

Lips reconnecting once more in their loving embrace, Ruki leaned forth into the kiss, supporting her waist with calloused hands. Closing his eyes and sighing contentedly, his dexterous fingertips brushed up the small of her back to shorten the distance between himself and Irina, pressing his lips roughly and possessively in a campaign to reclaim her as his. His tongue sneakily delved past parted lips, seeking her own in a playful dance, not only finding but also mating with it. Through the sheer fabric of her blouse, the Vampire’s large, strong extremities roamed her supple body before finally pulling away, sultry azures glued to her own dazzling emeralds.

“Yes, let’s share this day together. I’m quite famished—and not for the cake, either. Come now, despite its appearance, it had some rather wise words hidden on the side, wouldn’t you agree?”

Without warning, Ruki ghosted a hand down her thigh, slowly pulling Irina into his arms completely, sharp fangs peeking through a mischievous grin.

“The only thing that would make this birthday even better than it already is for me is seeing my wife in the throes of pleasure.”

[dernarrleid]

continuation from here

Relishing in the cold stare of a woman never perturb Kenzou before. The words falling from his lips, he meant them in earnest, understanding the nuance behind the work he performed day in and day out yet scolded himself on their delivery. Choosing who to save, it was easy to stay objective in a system who's design made the incoming of patients fair, taking away another element of all powerful responsibility aside from the conspicuous. Fundamentally, life wasn't in the same colors or variations for certain individuals over others; many had not the privilege to venture out and discover this notion. He supposed it's why there's a near permanent misunderstanding between people of what the meaning of said existence was, as the battles of hopefulness and nihilistic ideals wage on indefinitely. It doesn't entirely explain why most of his run ins with decidedly head strong, free-thinking persons question his character in a way almost condescending. The Irina he had searched for, the profile heard only from a man too cowardly to go on record, yet to damn good at his job for Kenzou to ignore the tip off. The @zorkaya he'd met instead.

Not to be deluded by her distinct features, the pure color of her hair paired with the crystalized, sunny twinkle seemingly disemboweling the fabric of his ideals from a few words exchanged. Across from him lie the proverbial serpent to his dove. Kenzou does not think so highly of himself in a personal sense, absolutely not, remaining completely neutral in his perception. To the defense of savings lives, it may only be faced head on. In the past, his ire while at bay grew each time his concurrent morals were challenged. Which fair, word of mouth often served the impression of his auspicious skills, never probing his beliefs since the medical world had no room for differing interpretations. However, the sheltered upbringing gave way for perhaps the ultimate form of prosperity. He'd been practicing inadvertently.

"It's a flaw I'm not proud of, but the more I believed in it the more it never failed to unsettle me. Outside of a professional environment one has to abide by their own set of morals." Kenzou says, mildly. Ridiculousness settles upon him in his surroundings, staring at the floor where his shoes stood out above all. The extravagance in her prim mien, only familiar with money in a detached sense considering his travels, he'd be rolling in it if his materialism was anymore than it was currently. Extremely aware of how terribly odd they come given they traditionally have no inhibitions left. "Whether I'm alive or on the brink of death, I'm not doing a thing for you." Rather callously put, although something tells him she wouldn't mind in a non-murderous way. Surprisingly, most of his interaction were the opposite. "My life is in the hands of my patients... you don't seem like the type to require any immediate attention."

He shuffles the soles of suede shoes on the wooden tiles underfoot, taking the glass before him if only to peer at his reflection. Self conscious wasn't the correct wording, hair a bit disheveled both from his roots with the beginnings of stubble prinking his chin. In stark contrast, he sighs to the air. "Have you ever felt the need to stray away from this world?" He questions tentatively. Recognizing a smile, not truthful, from miles away never mind the few feet between. The drink swirls in hand, thumb and index finger spinning the steam of the glass. "A man I'd been helping," saving, "he mentioned you in some capacity before his procedure. I... had to see for myself what kind of person you were—why he was so afraid. He wanted me to give you a token of his time with you, said I'd have no trouble seeing how beautiful you are." Reaching into the breast pocket stuffed with a handkerchief was a poorly written letter, manuscript by someone on the verge of death.

The way it was frantic burned together—anyone would have concluded the note held a powerful infatuation behind it. Why for a Ms. Zarya he'd no clue. Pleasantries fell short via his time to even make the trip and her demeanor; reading the letter was one thing different from the reality of his first encounter. He hoped it was his last. "He was wrong."

[eddieheart]

THE MISSION

Part 2

Fandom: The Avengers

Pairings: NONE

Words: 522

Description: the start of her mission

Part 1:

They left her on the outskirts of Iowa, they said that she'd have to find her own way there, just dropping her off would be too suspicious. Ivana wandered through the cities, hitchhiking her way farther and farther away from the general population.

It was starting to get dark, her feet ached. She wore only a pair of jeans and a t-shirt to remain inconspicuous. The house shouldn't be more than a mile away now, the sun was starting to set and she needed to come up with a plan.

She stumbled towards the edge of the old gravel road. Steadying herself on a tree, Ivana brought a hand up to her face. With a final breath she drew her hand away and slammed it back down onto her eye.

The pain made her stumble back a few steps, again. It needed to be enough to cause a black eye. Ivana brought her fist down again and again, hitting the same spot on her soft face. She turned and slammed her head forward into the tree, causing her lip to split.

That should be enough, she decided. Now just to walk the rest of the way there. Picking herself up from the tree she made her way to the small farmhouse on the hill.

Coughing one last time to clear her throat, she limped over to the door. Thinking back to another time, one of fear and regret, she willed tears to fall from her eyes.

Ivana remembered her first graduation, she was only 10 years old at the time. She shared her room with her best friend, Irina. They would stay up all night, talking and comforting each other. Her soft brown hair and softer features, the mole just above her lip, the way she bled as her throat was slit.

Small droplets fell down her face as she brought a hand up to the hardwood door. She knocked desperately, small hiccups escaping her.

The door opened slowly, revealing a middle aged woman with wavy brown hair and and deep brown eyes. She flinched slightly upon noticing the state of the young girl, a fresh bruise forming on her face, a split lip slowly leaking blood down her chin.

"Oh my gosh, sweetie are you okay? What happened." She opened the door fully, allowing Ivana to see the inside of her house.

"I-I was- was hitchhiking and- t-this guy he wanted- he wanted to," she cut herself off and looked to ground in shame, whipping away her insincere tears. "I told him no and he-he got rough, kicked me out of the car a while back. C-can I use your phone or something- I-I he took all my stuff with him."

The woman's eyes widened as she stepped aside, letting Ivana timidly step into the house. Took her long enough. The older woman placed a gently hand onto Ivana's shoulder as she came inside.

"I'm Laura, what's your name sweetheart?" She asked gently.

"I'm- I'm I-ivy."

"C'mon in Ivy. Let me make you some tea." She was in. Now just to start her mission.

Part 3:

@buggylad

[jtstoryweaver]

"Hello?"

Rafe straightened up too quickly, banging his shoulder on the corner of the wall cupboard. "Who's hurt?"

The owner of the polite voice stepped further into the herbalist's shop, drawing her patched hood back from her face. "No-one that I know of. I apologise, I didn't mean to worry you."

Rafe huffed out a heavy breath of relief. "Well, that's a nice change. What can I do for you?"

"I want to learn how to cry."

Rafe looked blankly at the earnest young woman. "Learn how to -? Crying's just a thing you do, if you're hurt or scared. Listen, what's your name?"

"Irina."

Rafe nodded to himself. "Irina, then. What's the actual problem?"

She stared at him steadily. There was something a little unnerving about those pale grey eyes, but Rafe convinced himself that it was simply her exceptional focus. "I want to learn how to cry. You're a herbalist, a healer. You've seen lots of people cry. You've cried for people. Will you teach me?"

Rafe's mouth opened. Closed. "Um. Well, if you can't cry, that sounds like a magic problem to me."   

Irina nodded to Rafe in perfect formality, a polite smile curving her lips. It didn't reach her eyes. "Thank you, and goodbye."

The door closed behind her, and Rafe did his best to put the odd encounter out of his mind. Definitely a magic thing. There was nothing he could have done to help. Right?

~

Maddie dropped a pinch of sage into the cauldron, frowned to herself, and added another one. "Now, was it thyme or basil? Where did I leave that book?"

The shop bell tinkled as Maddie reached for a lopsided pile of spellbooks, and she bit her lip in frustration. The cauldron would have to wait. "Coming!" she called, pushing aside the beaded curtain that led to the shop-half of the tower's bottom floor. Given the rain outside, she hadn't expected anyone to need her help tonight. "Spells, potions, curses, or basic supplies?"

The grey-eyed and slightly damp woman in the middle of the semi-circular room looked at her steadily. Must be some kind of magic-user, Maddie decided; most people, on seeing the shop for the first time, couldn't stop staring. The carefully wired bat skeleton on the ceiling was especially good for a lot of stares.

"Good evening. Are you the sorcerer?" asked the woman who was staring only at Maddie.

Maddie kept up her smile, although the idea of having to go disturb her teacher made her want to run in the opposite direction. "I'm the sorcerer's apprentice. Can I help?"

To Maddie's great relief, Grey-Eyes nodded. "I want to learn how to cry."

About to give the standard polite 'no' regarding love spells, Maddie's words stuck in her throat. "And you came to a sorcerer?" she asked dubiously.

One shoulder lifted in an indifferent shrug. "The herbalist said that it 'sounded like a magic problem'."

Maddie couldn't stop herself from snorting. "Rafe sent you? Of course he did. If it's not bleeding, coughing, sneezing, or herbal, then he doesn't know how to deal with it. Right. Let's get those tear ducts working, shall we?"

Half an hour later, Grey-Eyes—who had given her name as Irina—had undergone every curse-check that Maddie knew, and then prevented that night's dinner from boiling over. There was some kind of magic linked to Irina's tears, yes, but it shouldn't be stopping her from crying.

"Onions," Maddie decided. "No-one can resist onions. It's not a curse, which means it's physical. Onions should work. Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?"

As if prompted, thunder cracked overhead, audible even though the double-walled stone of the tower walls. Irina, blinked, then shook her head. "I thought I'd stay at the inn tonight."

"Nonsense," Maddie said briskly. "We've got plenty of space, you can stay in the guest room. Here. Take this knife and start cutting the onions. Thin slices, if you can, my teacher has texture issues."

Irina simply nodded, taking the knife in one rough hand.

As Irina chopped onions, Maddie started on the carrots. "So, you're not from around here," Maddie said leadingly. "What brings you to our town?"

A pile of sliced onion formed rapidly on one side of Irina's knife. "My village doesn't have a herbalist. Or a sorcerer. I came here because I need help."

"And have you always had difficulty crying? Or it is a new problem?" Maddie's carrots joined Irina's onions in the cauldron.

"I can't remember crying. My parents taught me not to. I—I was never unhappy enough to cry."

Maddie glanced up at Irina, whose eyes were perfectly dry. "Well, I suppose that's good?" Maddie said weakly.

Irina nodded, and continued to chop onions.

Maddie set her knife aside. "Once you're finished with the onions, can you chop that garlic clove too and add that? I'm going to rouse my teacher from his studies, so I may be gone awhile."

Maddie escaped up the stairs, both to fetch her teacher and to get the guest bed ready. Maybe stronger magic would help?

~

The doctor shone a light into Irina's eyes, then nodded to himself. "You're perfectly healthy. I wouldn't worry about it, crying doesn't have a purpose other than to gain sympathy for the crier. You don't need sympathy. That will be five copper coins, thank you."

~

If Irina could cry, she would.

The doctor had been her last hope. She was tired, nearly out of money, and very far from home. The last innkeeper had demanded the kind of coin she didn't want to give, not even for a bed for the night. Not if it was his bed.

Now, outside the city, with twilight drawing in as the day faded, she had nowhere to go. The farms were set back from the road, and not always easy to see even if the sheep fields suggested a shepherd somewhere nearby.

A brisk bark interrupted her misery, and a whitish-brown shape bounded into the lane. Smiling a little, she crouched down in the hope that the dog wouldn't see her as a threat. She'd never had a dog as a child, but the shepherd in her village had introduced her to their dogs and sometimes let her curl up with them after the sheep were safely in the barn. "Never interrupt a working dog," they'd said sternly.

If this dog was out in the fields, with the sheep nearby, then they were still working. If she was lucky, the dog would let her pass. "Hello," she said softly, letting the dog come up to her and sniff her. "I don't mean any harm. See? I'm on this side of the fence."

The dog sniffed her more and then, to Irina's surprise, grabbed a mouthful of her old cloak.

"Hey—whoa! Okay, I'm coming!" Irina stumbled at the first pull, righting herself only for the dog's insistent tugging to increase. "Wait!"

The dog didn't wait. Irina followed the dog's guidance, hoping that she could beg a needle and thread from whoever the dog was bringing her to. There were enough holes in her cloak already, and another would only let more wind through.

Onwards through the fields she followed, weaving among sleeping white fluffy bundles and towards a faint rectangular glow. The glow resolved itself into an open door, and Irina tucked her cloak around herself as tightly as she could. Perhaps she could ask to sleep outside? It was still warm enough outside, if she curled up in the leeward side of the cottage . . .

A silhouette obscured the enticing warm light of the open door. "Nip?" Is that you?" called a strong voice, and the dog let go of her cloak to bark in response.

Irina's steps slowed as she approached the little stone cottage, one so very similar to the one where she'd grown up. Maybe she should just leave?

"And a stray lamb, I see. Would you like to come in?" asked the tall person in the doorway.

In the end, it was Nip who made her decision for her. The dog pranced up to his owner, demanding pets and scratches and giving licks in return, and sauntered into the cottage as if he owned it.

Another piece of advice from her village's shepherd echoed silently in her ears. "If you ever find a dog who is unafraid of their owner, that's a good sign."

Irina nodded cautiously. "Yes, please."

The weathered face smiled at her. "You're a polite child. Come in, there's enough for two. Nip usually has the leftovers, the lazy thing, so don't give in when he begs. I fed him earlier."

Once inside and with the door closed, the shepherd took their coat off to reveal a shapeless multi-layered outfit of shirts, smocks, and skirts. "Thank you," Irina offered.

"Sit down, child, you're skin and bones. Here." Half of the soup in the pot went into a wooden bowl, to which the shepherd added a carved wooden spoon before passing it to Irina. "You're not the first hungry lamb Nip's brought home. He's a good lad, he is."

Irina nodded, abruptly too tired to make conversation.

The shepherd must have understood, because their shared meal passed in silence. Irina's bowl emptied steadily, the warmth settling into her stomach, and she yawned as she bent over the well-scraped bowl.

The shepherd stood, and before Irina could blink, she found herself curled up in front of the stove and wrapped in a dog-haired blanket.

"Sleep well, lamb," the shepherd said gently.

~

A waft of cool air and the scent of pease porridge roused Irina from her sleep. "I'm awake, Mama," she mumbled, sitting up and looking around for the broom. She had to sweep the floor to stop the mice coming in, and—the broom wasn't there. It was over in the corner, and that wasn't the broom Irina had made herself, with the nice straight ash handle that had taken days to smooth properly. This one was made of an oak branch, with the bark still clinging to the shaft in places.

She was in the shepherd's cottage.

A shadow fell across the door, the shepherd stepping through as she stamped mud off her heavy boots. Nip followed her in, much of his earlier exuberance dimmed. "Morning, lamb. Move over, the porridge should be just about done."

Irina duly moved aside, the blanket bundled in her arms and questions on her tongue.

"My name is Nora," the shepherd said unhurriedly. "The locals call me Aunt Nora. I've been shepherd here for forty years or more, and I'll probably be here for twenty more."

"I'm Irina. I—I've been travelling."

"Looking for something, hmm? Well, you might be lucky and find it. Here you go, breakfast. Village is thataway, if you want dinner come back here this afternoon."

Come back? "You won't mind?"

"Aside from the boys who watch the sheep, I don't talk to people much. I'm a little starved, for company, and Nip likes you. I don't mind."

~

Days settled into a pattern. At first, Irina intended to earn enough money to pay her way home, but somehow the need to go back to her old village never felt urgent enough. It wouldn't hurt to have a little extra money, she told herself, and then autumn rolled in and every hand was needed to help with the harvest. After that, it was winter, and the roads were made of mud and not fit for travelling. Not long after that, the snow fell, and Irina realised she'd been here for half a year.

She'd planned to work at the inn, scrubbing pots and washing sheets, but that plan took a sideways step on her first day in town. Irina had been passing by the blacksmith when he'd leaned out of his forge and shouted, "You! Lass! Can you run to the well and bring me some water? There's a copper in it for you if you're quick. Here's the bucket!"

She'd taken the bucket he'd thrown at her feet and returned in what she considered to be a respectable time, and the blacksmith had smiled as she'd lugged the bucket back to him.

"Good timing, lass. Pour it in the barrel, will you?"

She'd done as he'd asked, and he'd dumped a long piece of iron into the barrel. The clouds of steam had made Irina jump back, her wide eyes fixed on the barrel.

"That's going to be a scythe, lass. Terry over at Riverside Farm wants a new one for this year's harvest, and about time too. If he sharpens his old one much more there'll be nothing left of it."

By the end of that day, she'd earned six copper pennies and a lesson in different types of metal. He'd told her to come back, and she had; first to run simple errands, and then as apprentice. She spent that night and every night after at Nora's cottage while Nora stayed out with her sheep.

When she'd asked if the blacksmith didn't have an apprentice already, he'd raised an eyebrow at her. "None of the other youngsters have the feel for the forge," the blacksmith told her in his abrupt way. "You're a good lass, and you respect the metal and the fire. Strength is a thing that grows over time."

Nora had no advice about smithing, but she'd listened when Irina excitedly described the new things she'd learned that day. And she had her own advice, when Irina had admitted why she'd been on the road.

"Crying's a good thing to learn," she'd said. "It's healthy to cry sometimes, when you need to feel something strongly. It helps to wash things clean."  

Months later, with her arms aching from filing points onto the nails she'd made the day before, Irina headed back to Nora's cottage. Fresh-fallen snow crunched under her feet; a thin layer now, but sure to get deeper as the winter wore on.

With her head bent against the wind, Irina didn't notice Nip until the dog was bouncing around her feet. "Nip? Where's—oh, Aunt Nora!"

"You don't think I stay all winter in that house, do you?" Nora called, her heavy boots leaving deeper tracks than Irina's. "The sheep are safely closed up in their barn, and we don't let them out until the snow melts and the fields drain. There's a nice loft in the barn, we'll be staying there until spring."

Relief and joy so great that it was physical almost knocked Irina over. We. She wouldn't be kicked out now that Aunt Nora was living somewhere else.

The wind cut icy tracks against her cheeks, and she smiled through her drying lips. "It'll be a shorter walk to the blacksmith's forge."

"And a good thing, too. A nice warm place in winter, is the forge." A frown shadowed Aunt Nora's brow, and the older woman leaned in. "Don't cry out here, lamb, your tears are freezing on your face."

Tears?

Irina lifted one gloved hand to her face. The wool came away sparkling, diamonds glittering against the brown fabric.

"It's okay," Irina said, closing her hand on the gems before wrapping Aunt Nora in a hug. "I'm just happy."

Aunt Nora patted her gently on the back, and Irina luxuriated in the hug for a few chilly minutes. Nip, however, did not approve of being left out, and he butted his head into her side.

As Irina leaned back, Nora's jaw dropped in shock. "Lamb, your eyes."

"My eyes?" Irina parroted, biting her lip in the hope that Aunt Nora wouldn't change with the prospect of infinite wealth.

As it happened, it wasn't the diamonds that Nora was worried about. "Irina, they're brown."

Irina hiccupped another sob, the corners of her mouth hurting from how wide her grin had grown. Brown. Her eyes were brown again. "How about I tell you about it when we're nice and warm in the barn?"

Nora laughed. "I knew you were a sensible girl. Let's go. If we're lucky, one of the lads remembered to bring us dinner from the inn."

~

Years later, when Irina had taken over the forge and was well known for producing beautifully engraved metal, traders often wondered how she managed to etch such fine lines. She always gave them the same baffling answer.

"With joy, of course."

There was once a daughter of peasants cursed to have tears that hardened into diamonds. Her loving family took pride in their poverty as it meant they had never made their daughter shed a drop. But…

[mannequinentity]

📽 - For a dream my muse didn't want to wake up from

𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐬

The wind currents brushed past his neck and down to his torso, but it wasn't enough to grab his attention. He slid his hand across her wife's face, his thumb brushing her cheekbone and down to her bottom lip. The more he appreciated her company, the more desirable he became to feel her warmth.

A shiver coursed through his cold naked body, her fingers massaging muscles firm to the touch while whispering affirmations to ease any stress. Irina trailed her index finger across his back scars and a kiss, and then another against his neck. Hands were wonderous up to his spine and down to his waist. It wasn't enough to satisfy his aching need for more. He felt unsure at first, finding this unreal or nonexistent, as if this wasn't supposed to be an occurrence that's grounded to reality. However, the less he questioned, the more relief he allowed tentatively.

"Sweetie, I'm here." She reassured with a gentle voice, embracing his scarred physique with another kiss against the side of his head. "Don't say anything, please. Close your eyes and let me be here. Everything will be fine."

Half lidded eyes and shortly after they were closed, his thoughts numb and his muscles easing down. This cherishing moment of silence; the aroma of the bedroom itself, and her scent brought a sense of homely appreciation, a past that's almost long forgotten, a time where everything felt normal and loving. His scar-riddled hands roamed down more to her body, an eager pull and a squeeze, desperate and gentle, their legs intertwining as they bask with their lips sharing a minute of passion.

Her skin felt uncharacteristic shortly thereafter, a touch instantaneous with complexation excessively dry from his palm. A strange liquid was felt against his chest, a thick substance rotten of rancid ammonia. Tooth fell out and then another. All of them melted into the bedsheets below, whilst a ball-like mass fell onto the tip of his shoulder. It wasn't until he stiffened up before jolting his eyes opened.

He couldn't comprehend it at first, but the moment he did, his heart was irregular under this paralyzing weight. All he could hear were her words. "Love you, Subaru. I'll always be here for you." Her voice was progressively groggy, and it got to the point she couldn't whistle out a single sentence. Even if she tried, her words were choked and vomited.

He shut his eyes tightly and then reopened them. It was no more. She was no more, and their home disappeared. All he can see is the interior of his apartment room while he himself was lying on a futon mattress.

An unshakable dread of shivery palms, the sweat drenching from his forehead and back. His heart was beating out of his chest and every time he took a deep breathe, his chest pained him with a sharp sensation. This frustrated him immensely, a growl of a disturbed creature, one that can be heard several walls past, drew him to leave a hole in the wall with knuckles bruised red purple.

Calm down he repeated to himself. They'll come and it'll just like before. They'll find him again, and it'll be a hunt lasting hundreds of years again. Focus he reassured, steadying his breathing to a rhythm and recovering himself to the present time.

Another dream, similar to the last but vastly different. His eyes trailed downwards, and his vision was blurry. There was no need to stop it. This was healthy, he'll allow it, even if it pains him with unwanted reminders of their unconditional love.

[livredebelle]

Twenty-four.

"I TOLD YOU, I DON'T NEED A RIDE."

I wasn't going to lie--it was getting to be really annoying, not having my own driver's license and a car. It was getting tiresome that people would always offer me a ride, which I appreciated but genuinely found burdensome.

I frowned at Quinn, who was whirling the keys to his Harley around his finger looking at me quizzically.

"You used to love riding my bike. What made you change your mind about them?"

"We haven't talked in months." I didn't feel the need to explain further; he would get it. And he did, from immediate look of apology on his face.

"Look, I--"

"Besides, I have a ride with Rue," I lied, not allowing him to finish. I wasn't emotionally prepared to deal with him right now. Maybe it was selfish of me, but I was feeling bitter that he had pushed me away so easily, despite his promises that we'd be friends forever. Never mind that I was in the wrong. A part of me had thought he would never be the one to throw me away--but I had been clearly wrong about that.

Now, that wasn't fair, I knew. But I simply didn't care.

"Oh really."

"Yes."

Silence. I gnawed on my lower lip nervously, not looking his way. I had lost track of where Rue went after her eleventh shot of soju. I was hoping that I could nonchalantly scan the restaurant to look for her when my phone rang. I picked up without looking at caller ID.

"Hello."

"I'm here to get you," a voice purred at the other end, sending goosebumps down my spine. Ugh. Bastard.

"How did you--"

"It's like I have my own special Rina radar. I felt like you needed me. Just as much as I felt like I needed you."

Legs, don't turn into noodles now. I cleared my throat, willing myself to be unaffected. "I'll meet you outside by the entrance in a few." I didn't want to seem overly eager to leave, like I was.

"Did your real ride just get here?" Quinn asked dryly. He was struggling to keep his voice even.

"You don't get to ask me questions."

"I'm not trying to fight, Irina. I just wanted to talk and clear the air. I've been trying to get in contact with you for weeks." He probably didn't realize that I'd blocked him from everything. It was my method; a way of ensuring a clean break whenever relationships in my life went awry.

"There's nothing to talk about. Besides, nothing has changed since then." The falling out. "It would be pointless."

"But I--"

"I've got to go."

I hurried away, not wanting to continue the conversation. It was like someone had stabbed me in the stomach with a knife and was twisting it ever so slowly. I felt like I could vomit.

The wave of relief I felt when I spotted Heath's Audi parked by the curb was indescribable. I heaved a sigh and was about to basically sprint towards the car when a small hand stopped me.

"I finally found you!" Rue sang, her breath soaked in alcohol. I plugged my nose. "Come on, we're heading off to Round Two! There's a neat karaoke bar near downtown."

"I can't, Rue. I'm not feeling too good." I hoped my face could show how sincere I was being.

"Oh, nonsense! It's just the alcohol. Once we get some water in you, you'll be perfect. C'mon, we don't want to disappoint the seniors."

"But--"

"Yeesh, what is it with you? What part of 'no' do you not understand? I've witnessed your abrasive behavior so many times tonight--if she says no, it means no. Capiche?"

Quinn's angry voice. I hardly ever heard him use it, because he was generally too good-natured to get angry. It caught me by surprise.

Rue flushed red in embarrassment, but she let go of her hold on my arm. "I was just trying to encourage her to socialize more. You know, because she's always being so antisocial. I meant no harm." Her lips pressed tightly together, and her big googly eyes glistened as if she was going to cry.

Quinn turned away from her, unperturbed, and faced me. "Don't let anyone pressure you to do something you don't want to do. Not that I think you normally would; you're obviously not feeling too hot right now." He put his hand on my forehead and shook his head. "You have a fever. Get home, and rest. I'll text you later. Just... please... don't ignore me, okay? I'm really sorry."

I nodded, lacking the energy to do more than that. I would have to remember to unblock him later. I figured, I could at least hear the guy out. I didn't have to actually respond if I didn't feel like it.

God, I'm such a bitch.

Rue didn't mean to be annoying, I knew. Her interest in me was... sometimes misplaced, that I could admit. She seemed to always need me to accompany her everywhere, like I needed to be part of her life all day, every day. It was exhausting, being friends with someone who wouldn't really ever take 'no' for an answer. How do you persist in rejection, though, when she clearly doesn't mean any malice?

Still, annoying is annoying. It felt refreshing that Quinn had said what I had been wanting to say for awhile now.

Rue slowly walked away, and I made a mental note to text her later to console and reassure her that we were still friends. Otherwise, I'd be stuck with her sulky, pouty attitude for the following week during classes.

Sighing, I slid into the front seat of Heath's car out of habit. Heath looked at me, then his eyes darted to his side mirror where he was clearly assessing the situation I had just walked away from.

"Hmm. That boy is here," he murmured.

"That boy? We're practically the same age."

"Yes, I know what I said." Heath grinned. "Nevertheless... I had thought that boy was out of your life, the last time I checked. Is he back?"

"No. Yes? I don't have a clue. But that, sir, is my prerogative. Now take us home."

"Someone's feeling bossy today. Yes, ma'am." He was struggling to hide the smile in his voice.

I closed my eyes, about to drift off to sleep as I was tired from the alcohol and all the socializing. I hoped Rue wouldn't find the rest of the evening boring without me, and I secretly hoped Quinn wouldn't text me, so my brain wouldn't have to do somersaults as I analyzed whether or not to let him back in my life. Assuming he wanted to, of course--which he made it seem like.

"Did you have fun, though?"

My eyes fluttered open. Headache. "Sort of. I might have upset Rue, though. I don't think I was good company for her tonight."

"Since when have you cared whether you upset people or not?"

"I mean, we're friends."

"Hmm. I'd be careful of that girl if I were you." Heath clicked his tongue. "There's something off about her that I don't like."

"You say that about everybody."

"Fair. Everyone except you."

"You're terrible at flirting."

"I'm serious, though. Have you considered she might be in love with you?"

I laughed heartily at that. "What? Don't be insane. Does your jealousy know no bounds?"

He smiled. "I'm only saying--I've caught her glancing at you the same way I do. It's something you can't see because you're oblivious to affection. Like recognizes like, you see."

I rolled my eyes, not believing him for a second. "She has someone she likes." I cringed, remembering the senior.

He didn't miss that. "Something amiss?"

"Rue has terrible taste in men. Ugh. The guy she was with was so rude and annoying earlier. He kept butting in to me and Quinn's conversation."

"Oh? And what were you two conversing about?"

"Nothing in particular. He was asking why I was ignoring him, which is unfair because he's the one who ended the friendship first."

"You sound like a sullen child. I'm surprised at you. Although, I suppose I shouldn't complain about that." Heath paused, as if a new thought had occurred to him. "Has he ever confessed to you before?"

I bit my lip. Sure, Heath and I had gotten a lot closer to the point of disclosing certain secrets. Not that this was a secret or anything. I just got nervous whenever Heath's jealousy flared, because I was fully aware of how destructive it could be.

"No," I told him truthfully. After all, Quinn had only alluded to his interest in me in the past. And it had never been beyond suggestive--I was fairly convinced he was only interested in me sexually.

"Hmm." He left it at that. Ever so mysterious.

We sat in silence for the rest of the ride home, any thought of sleep forgotten. Suddenly, the alcohol was buzzing in my veins, and I was itching to kiss Heath again, this time on the lips. Jesus, what was wrong with me? Whenever it came to him, I couldn't get my impulses under control. But I was still mortified about my last slip-up when I kissed him on the cheek--something about his sleek leather car seats turned me on, I swear, it wasn't me--and I refused to allow room for mistakes. No, the next time either of us made a move, it would be on purpose.

Which would make it that much more meaningful.

When we arrived and I stepped out of the car, I felt chills run all over my back. The sensation that I was being watched arose once more. I whirled around and scanned the area, but there was nothing out of place that I could find. I stomped my foot in frustration. My paranoia was really getting out of control.

"What's the matter?" Heath came to my side, all serious as he also scanned our surroundings. I felt more at ease at that; his eyes would miss nothing.

"I dunno. I could've sworn I felt someone watching us... but I'm probably just being hypersensitive and paranoid again."

"Hm. Why don't you go inside first," Heath suggested, crossing his arms. "I suppose I should fulfill my bodyguard duties and thoroughly search the area. Make sure it's safe for my little princess."

"Wha--who the hell is your princess?" I scoffed, turning towards the building. "Fine, I'm going." Let him waste his time, I guess. When I got to the penthouse, the first thing I was going to do was throw off all my clothes and snuggle into my bed for a well-deserved nap. Fuck food.

Only when I got to the penthouse, instead of complete solace and peace, a guest was waiting for me in the kitchen.

"Hey, sis." Rosalie smiled. "Where have you been for so long?"

***

"Step out, you piece of shit. I can see your shadow from behind the telephone pole."

Heath cracked his knuckles and neck as his shifty eyes adjusted to the lighting. Of course, before Irina had even mentioned it, he had sensed that someone was tailing him, and while the perpetrator was pretty good at hiding his existence, he wasn't perfect like Heath was.

"Yeesh, you caught me."

An old man around his fifties stepped out from exactly where Heath had pinpointed. He had freckles like Rosalie, and his leery grin made Heath antsy.

"And you are?"

"I thought you and Melanie were a team, too," the man said, avoiding Heath's question. "Surely you can make a guess?"

"We're no longer working on the same terms."

"Interesting. Doesn't matter, though. I'm getting paid either way, all the same." The man stepped closer towards Heath and the building. "Mind letting me through? I came here to visit my daughters; I have no business with you."

"Daughter, you sick fuck--Irina's not yours," Heath hissed, his teeth grinding. He was furious. Her family was always declaring ownership over her and dehumanizing her that way. Now that he was here, over his dead body was that going to happen.

"From my understanding, you aren't such a knight in shining armor, yourself," the man laughed. "But fine--let's say she's not. What right do you have to deny me from seeing her anyway?" He grinned evilly. "You aren't her family or anything, kid. So stop being a shitty brat and let me through before somebody gets hurt."

"You're right about one thing, at least," Heath said with his signature Cheshire cat smile, stretching his arms before he went in for the kill.

***

"What are you doing here, Rose?" I said finally, no effort to hide the impatience in my tone. Hated it when my napping plans got ruined. Also, how had she gotten inside? So many questions.

"I've been feeling guilty about something for a long time, sis," she answered. Her cheeks were bright pink, and the look of ecstasy on her face somehow made my stomach churn. "I've been wanting to tell you all along, and now I finally can."

"What on earth are you talking about?"

She took a deep breath and smiled angelically, a little apologetically.

"Sis, I'm in love with Heath, too."

[anyathefandom]

To Those Fortunate Enough chapter 31:

@burned-lariat

"I don't want you here."

"No," Wallace laughed nervously, "you don't mean that…you can't mean that."

"I don't want you here," Dex shook his head slowly, his voice firm.

Me: See I don't blame him because last time he saw him he invalidated his feelings and that man got so upset he passed out🤷

Dexter Heller," Wallace replied in the same tone, "relax. You're not in any danger, no one's hurting you. You're in a safe place; nothing's going to happen to you."

"Why can't you just do what I'm telling you to do, you stupid son of a bitch? Is English that hard? Should I say it a different way for you to get it? Fine: Ich will dich hier nicht haben! Raus mit dir! Lass mich in Ruhe!"

Me: Oh you know someone is pissed with you when they switch to another language to tell you to get out.🫣

"I'll calm down when you finally screw off."

"Is that any way to talk to your father?"

Both men turned to look at the door. Ava leaned against the open doorway, looking them over. She pursed her lips before slowly walking towards the bed, standing between father and son.

"Can I help you?" Wallace asked.

"You can," she replied, "Give your son and I some space to talk, if you please. Thank you."

Me: The way I imagined ava entering the scene like:

"Why?" Dex looked at her incredulously, "Ava, you were one of the few people in the family who didn't look down upon me because I exist. You didn't know what Victor knew, and you didn't know he was going to do any of what he did. You have no reason to apologize."

"Aren't you sweet," Ava smirked, briefly glancing through the window behind her, "Mind telling me why you're so irate at your father?"

"If I remembered why, I'd tell you. I just…know I should be."

"Hopefully it'll come back to you," Ava stood up slowly, gently slapping his forearm, "Take it from me: you're in very good hands here."

"Great," Dex smiled before Ava walked towards the door, "Hey, Ava?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks for visiting. It means a lot."

Me: Somehow Someway I came out of that interaction an Ava x dex crack shipper.🫢

"Valentin, you're back!" Irina rushed to hug her brother as he walked into the hotel room. He felt her squeeze him tight, earning him a giggle from Anna as she came from behind, "Where did you go?"

Me: It's really hitting that this is a relationship we've been robbed of because the writers don't respect the woman in white.😭

"Irina," Valentin looked between the two blondes, "this is Charlotte. She's my daughter, which makes her your niece. Charlotte, this is your aunt, Irina."

Me: The way my mind went "Imagine Irina took Charlotte under her wing and down the line trained her." Once again we've been robbed.

“...Something the matter?” Valentin looked at Wallace as the door closed.

“Yeah…there is,” Wallace gulped, his eyes red and bloodshot.

"And that is...?"

“My son wants nothing to do with me.”

Me: *Sings* Cause karma is my boyfriend, Karma is a god, Karma is the breeze in my hair on the weekend, Karma's a relaxing thought, Aren't you envious that for you it's not?

Also me: Like y'all know a love that problematic German man but...

"You look like you went through hell and back," Spencer remarked.

"Funnily enough, I just did."

"Is it as hot as people claim it is?"

"Worse. Not only is it hot, but there's mountains of corpses everywhere, so it reeks too. The world's nastiest men's locker room."

"...Shut up," Spencer playfully swiped at Dex, causing both men to laugh. Spencer felt his spine stiffen when Dex's laughter led to a fit of coughing, "You okay?"

Me: The fact that this is the only time I would ever support Spencer and Dex being friends😂

"...Touché," a smirk broke onto Dex's face, "But in all seriousness, Spencer, if you plan to cut your father out of your life, be sure that you're doing it with a sound mind. I did it while full of rage and adrenaline, and once I calmed down, I let him back in."

Me: Dex...

Let Spencer cut Nikolas out of his life it's for the best.🙈

Why did you let him back in?"

"I don't know."

"If you don't know, then why haven't you kicked him back out?"

"...I don't know," Dex frowned, looking down at his lap. The thought sat with him for a moment or two before he looked back at his cousin, "Look, Spencer, you're the only one who can decide whether or not to keep your father in your life, and whatever you choose to do, I support you."

Me: Good, because Nikolas has been a real shit father for a while now.🥴

"You're German, aren't you?"

"I am."

"So that means you speak German, right?"

"Fluently."

"Prove it."

Dex raised an eyebrow, "You want me to prove I can speak fluent German?"

"I'm trying to keep our conversation going, Dex. Humor me."

My instant thought: This is probably some bougie little test Spencer has going. He's probably going "Hmm he can't be a true Cassadine unless he knows more than one language.🧐"

"Alright," Spencer smirked, hearing the faint sound of footsteps approaching the room, "Who's standing in the doorway?"

"...Meine Mutter."

Spencer turned around to see Irina standing in the doorway, a hand on the door frame. Her eyes were bright with curiosity, fixated on Dex. The young man sucked in a breath at the sight of her, unsure of how to react. A heavy silence filled the room, crushing the atmosphere until a lone question broke the tension:

"Could I speak to my son alone?"

How I visualized Irina coming to his room:

One thing about Irina is that she's going to be excited to her baby.😂

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

“True love is putting someone else before yourself.” 😍 And maybe a bit or a lot sad? 😍

Here it is. ☺️

Prompt list.

Three days. For exactly three days, Olena hadn't spoken a word to him unless it was absolutely necessary. For instance, when it involved the children or when they pretended to them that everything was all right. It felt like three days of pure, painful, agonising hell to Volodymyr. And yet he swallowed his tears each time, ignoring the pain in his heart that radiated into every fibre of his body. Because Volodymyr knew he deserved it. He had been an absolute asshole to the most important person in his life and had hurt Olena in the worst possible way. He had betrayed her trust and betrayed her. Olena forgave a lot, but Volodymyr wasn't sure if she could forgive him for this betrayal. He didn't even know if he would ever be able to forgive himself for being so stupid. And so Volodymyr endured Olena's silence, her cold shoulder. The way she turned away or avoided him when he approached. And when Olena looked at him ... . The love with which she usually looked at him tenderly had disappeared from her eyes. This frightened Volodymyr because, with each passing day, he was less and less sure that he could somehow save his marriage. So Volodymyr accepted his new sleeping place, the couch in his office. 

But the worst part was seeing how disappointed Olena was and how much she was suffering. He heard her crying at night, and yet Volodymyr knew he was the last person who could comfort her now. For he was responsible for Olena's tears. Volodymyr's heart was torn into a million pieces by each of her tears. And every time Volodymyr stood before her, it took all his strength not to break down.

When he woke up in the morning, Olena was either gone or left earlier than usual with the children. In the evening, when the children were in bed, Volodymyr would hear her leave the house and not return until late at night. He didn't dare ask where Olena had been. And neither Lenny nor Irina, the only other people who could have answered his question, spoke a word to him. Instead, they treated him like air. Volodymyr had expected no less. Of course, they would be on Olena's side.

On the fourth day, Volodymyr came into the living room just as she was turning off the television. Olena stopped when she saw him, and Volodymyr stood uncertainly in the doorway.

"Are you going to sleep?" he asked.

Olena just nodded and put the remote down before walking past him, keeping as much distance as possible. Volodymyr felt a lump in his throat, and tears stung his eyes as he pressed his lips together. But Volodymyr could not bear the silence any longer.

"Do you want a divorce?"

He heard Olena pause on the stairs. There was silence. A very long, tormenting silence. Volodymyr turned and looked at Olena's back. Her hand was gripping the bannister tightly as she stood motionless.

"I know I've apologised a million times over the last few days. And I can only tell you again and again that I'm incredibly sorry. If I could, I would go back in time and do everything differently ... . I don't know how I can ever make it up to you. Or earn your forgiveness. Or regain your trust. But I am ready to do absolutely everything if you decide to give me a chance to make it right. And I'm an idiot. And an asshole. And I was selfish. And I love you. But ... if you want a divorce, Len ... I would understand."

Volodymyr wasn't sure if she heard what he said because the pain and the tears almost made his voice crack a few times. Olena didn't react for a long time until he saw her turn her head slightly to the side as if to look over her shoulder at him. But Olena didn't. Volodymyr could only see the tip of her nose. Then Olena walked up the stairs. Volodymyr stood there until he heard the bedroom door slam shut. That night, Olena stayed at home and didn't go to Lenny and Irina.

On the 5th day, Volodymyr met her in the kitchen while Olena was doing the dishes. He hesitated to enter the room because she didn't even look up but continued to scrub the dishes. But Volodymyr gathered his courage and walked past Olena to the fridge in search of something to eat. But the tense atmosphere in the room turned his hunger into a stomach ache. So Volodymyr just grabbed a yoghurt and hurried out of the kitchen. He didn't see Olena looking after him. Nor would Volodymyr know that a few minutes later, she was standing outside his door, her fist raised to knock. And yet she didn't. Instead, he went into the office and cried quiet tears on his couch. When Volodymyr heard Olena go upstairs to the bedroom two hours later, he waited for a while, listening to the silence in the house. But hunger eventually forced him out of the office. Also, because it was now bigger than the lump of ice in his stomach. When Volodymyr entered the kitchen, he stopped abruptly as tears welled up in his eyes. There was a plate and cutlery on the kitchen table. He heard the low hum of the oven, and when Volodymyr looked inside, he saw a pot. After carefully taking out the warm pot, Volodymyr found his favourite food inside. It had never tasted better, even though his tears watered it down.

The knocking on the 6th day was so quiet that Volodymyr hardly heard it. He held his breath, and his whole body began to shake. 

"Yes!" cried Volodymyr in a husky voice, clearing his throat as the door slowly opened. 

Olena came in hesitantly and closed the door behind her, avoiding to look at him. Volodymyr sat tense in his chair, waiting for Olena to turn to him, though her gaze remained lowered.

"Len ..." Volodymyr said, but his voice broke.

Still, Olena looked at him slowly. The minutes dragged on as they just looked at each other. Then Olena walked over to the couch and sat down. She pressed her lips together and Volodymyr saw her take a few deep breaths and open her mouth as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the right words. Then Olena closed her eyes for a moment before looking at him again.

"Explain it to me," Olena said in a low voice, and Volodymyr swallowed. "Explain why you want to be the next President."

Everything about her body language and voice was tense, and he could feel the wall between them. And yet Volodymyr breathed a sigh of relief that at least Olena was talking to him. He nodded quickly and rose to go to her.

"No!" Olena stopped him, crossing her arms. "You sit there and explain it to me."

Slowly, Volodymyr sank back into his chair and nodded. Then he started to talk. And he talked. And talked. Olena didn't interrupt him once and just listened. Most of the time, she didn't even look at him. But Volodymyr said every word he could think of. When he finally finished, Olena's expression was unreadable. She sat silently for a long time, staring out the window of his office. Volodymyr saw Olena playing nervously with her fingers.

"OK. Thank you," was all she said before Olena got up and left the room without another word.

He didn't hear her crying that night.

The next day, no one was home when Volodymyr woke up, and when he came home, the house seemed just as empty at first. For a moment, the thing that Volodymyr had feared all this time came to his mind. Olena had left him. But then he heard the clatter of pots and dishes in the kitchen and saw a faint light coming through the crack of the closed kitchen door. Volodymyr opened it slowly, filled with anxiety, and found Olena standing at the stove. She looked up from the pot in front of her and stopped stirring momentarily.

"Hello," he greeted Olena before Volodymyr swallowed hard.

"Hello," she replied, looking down at the pot again. "Dinner will be ready in 15 minutes," Olena informed him, and Volodymyr looked uncertainly at the kitchen table.

It was set for two. For him? Or was Olena expecting someone else?

"I thought we could eat together."

Volodymyr's gaze snapped back to Olena, and he looked at her with wide eyes. 

"Are ... are you sure?" he asked in a trembling voice, his knees suddenly feeling very weak.

"Yes," Olena replied.

Even if Volodymyr was imagining it, he wanted to believe that there was something of the old, familiar affection in Olena's voice. 

"I ... I'm going to change ... and ... wash my hands ..." Volodymyr managed to get out, and she nodded.

He hesitated for a moment, and Olena looked at him in a waiting manner. Then Volodymyr approached her carefully, watching every movement of her body and her expression. But this time, Olena neither moved away nor backed away. Eventually, standing next to her, Volodymyr placed a tentative kiss on her cheek. But he didn't have the courage to look into Olena's eyes, so Volodymyr turned and left the room. When Volodymyr returned, he had dried all his tears in the bathroom. Olena was waiting for him at the table, and Volodymyr quickly sat down beside her. Olena didn't move for a moment, but then she reached for his hand and looked at him. Volodymyr took Olena's hand and listened to her grace. But as soon as Olena had said it, she pulled her hand out of his and took her cutlery.

"Enjoy your meal," Olena said before starting to eat.

"Thank you, you too," Volodymyr replied quietly, starting as well.

The whole time, they didn't say a word. Not until they had both finished.

"Do you want anything else?" Olena asked, looking at him.

"No, thank you. I'm full."

"Me too," she replied and began to put the dishes away. 

Volodymyr quickly got up and helped her. But they washed the dishes and pots in silence, dragging it out as long as possible. Afterwards, they stood hesitantly by the sink while Olena dried her hands thoroughly.

"I ... um ... would like a glass of wine. Do you want one too?" Volodymyr asked shyly because it was the first thing that came to his mind.

Olena put the tea towel aside and looked at him. Then she nodded slowly. 

"White wine?" he asked, walking past her to the pantry to get a bottle.

"I prefer red wine," he heard Olena reply.

Silence returned as Volodymyr fetched the bottle and started to uncork it. But the cork was stuck, and he struggled with the corkscrew. Partly because his hands were shaking so badly.

"I put your bed away in the office earlier."

Volodymyr almost dropped the corkscrew. He didn't dare to look at Olena. Had the moment come when she would throw him out of the house? When she would ask for a divorce? Volodymyr heard Olena's footsteps on the tiles, and it was her hand on his cheek that slowly turned his head towards her. Volodymyr had forgotten the bottle of wine. He looked at Olena with a lump in his throat, his vision blurred by his tears. She gently took the bottle of wine and the corkscrew from his hands and put them aside while Volodymyr's first tears ran down his cheeks. Olena was crying, too, but it was she who gently wiped the tears from his cheeks. Volodymyr's whole body felt frozen.

"My husband should sleep in his bed and only there. Next to his wife," she began, her voice choked with tears, and he sobbed.

Olena intertwined her fingers with Volodymyr's and pulled him closer.

"If you do this, Vova, then only if you become the best President this country has ever seen," Olena continued, and for the first time, Volodymyr saw a smile on her lips.

There was warmth and love in her eyes again, and at the same time, a sob and a happy laugh escaped him. Volodymyr nodded so vigorously that tears flew through the air.

"And with you as First Lady?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"There are still many things we need to talk about ... . But ... true love means putting someone else before yourself," Olena replied just as quietly, smiling. "You do realise that I'm going to make an absolutely terrible First Lady, don't you?" she joked lightly, but Volodymyr sensed that Olena was serious as well.

"No. Never. You'll be the absolute best First Lady," he assured her, smiling. 

Olena laughed uncertainly before looking lovingly at Volodymyr again.

"We'll do it together," Olena said softly, and he heard the fear in her voice.

Volodymyr pulled her closer.

"I promise you this won't destroy us. And I promise you that I will never ever hurt you like this again. I will never hurt you in any way again."

Olena slipped one hand out of his and cupped Volodymyr's cheek as her smile widened a little.

"Good, because I forgive you. And I trust you to keep your word."

Volodymyr nodded quickly, closing the distance between them and kissing Olena. And when she returned the kiss, he no longer felt like he was in hell. Volodymyr had his paradise back.

[neeleys]

Stina Ekblad and Irina Björklund in Isabella (2006)

[aureatescars]

Sasha scoffs when Leon brings up teaching him pickup lines, but he can't hide the amusement crinkling his eyes and lightening his tone as he looks up at him. "Swear words I can do." He says. "But what on earth has you believe I'd be the right person to ask about pickup lines?" He shakes his head but continues down the aisle with the smile persisting in his expression. "I've been in exactly one relationship, and she asked me out."

He stops in his tracks then, wheelchair coming to a halt. He is struck by how easily he said this just now. How easily he is able to talk about her in this moment. Previously, making even the smallest of remarks regarding her did twist a knife in his gutt, had him aching as if bleeding out from an open wound. But reminiscing about the day Irina finally had enough of dropping hints and downright demanded he take her out for dinner is not as painful as it once was. It still hurts to think of her, the grief persists even now and there won't be a day in his life when he won't miss her for the person she was and it's much the same for JD. He'd ever wish things would have turned out different, and he will always feel guilty for dragging him into a fight not his own. bBt Sasha won't let that grief and guilt possess him anymore, he won't let it corrupt him. He's been down that path and it nearly took everything from him.

In fact, the reason he is still here, looking toward the future rather than succumbing to the rage and guilt that swept him up during the war is standing beside him now. Joking about Sasha teaching him his mother tongue one inappropriate word at a time. And somehow that has him smile a little brighter.

Until Leon points out that there is someone staring at them. Sasha turns and immediately recognizes the man. "That's the man we're renting the cabin from." Sasha explains, realizing belatedly that Leon stayed by the car on their day of arrival and Sasha went to pick up the key by himself. Sasha didn't think much of it at the time, but now he wonders if Leon deliberately stayed behind that evening to keep the potential suspicion of the man to a minimum.

Well, there is not much to be done about it now, so to avoid any awkwardness Sasha raises a hand to greet the man standing a ways away from them before he begins wheeling himself over. [Hey there] Comes the gruff but not unfriendly greeting from the older man when they're within earshot and Sasha nods in acknowledgement before returning the greeting.

He gestures at Leon, meaning to introduce the two men to eachother officially. [This is Leon, he's been helping me get settled after... everything.] He avoids the older man's eyes as his brows furrow and his expression morphs into something uncomfortably close to pity. Then he looks up at Leon, while indicating the older man. "This is Mikael."

With introductions out of the way conversation moves on to stilted but overall friendly smalltalk, with Sasha playing intermediary between the other two men.

[You two here to get materials for the construction work you plan to do?] Mikael asks and Sasha shrugs. [Just for the ramps. We're not going to touch the doorframes. We won't go against our word.]

[Listen, I'm sorry, but I really can't just have you up and change the entire thing on a whim.] Mikael says and Sasha shakes his head. [I know. And I'm not holding it against you.]

Mikael looks at the wheelchair and Sasha has to do everything in his power to not squirm under what he perceives to be an almost scrutinizing gaze. [Is it really that hard to move around?]

Sasha presses his lips together, not translating what Mikael just said into English since he is overcome by a wave of shame, memories of the last couple of days coming back to mind. Not least of all the moment in the bathroom and this morning. [I told you. It's not as much moving around as it is the chair not fitting through the doorframes. Leon has to ... he has to help me. Often.] It comes out curt and a little rough around the edges. Sasha knows Leon noticed that the conversation involves him in some way, having heard his name and likely noticed the brief glances Sasha threw his way. But right now he can't bring himself to explain.

It's then that Mikael takes pity on him, trying to stir the conversation away from the heavy topic. [He seems like a good guy. ... For an American.] He crosses his arms infront of his chest. [Tell him thank you from me for taking care of you, and sorry about saying no. Go on. He seems a little lost.]

Sasha blinks up at Mikael, a little startled by the request. It takes him another moment but then he awkwardly shifts in his seat and turns to Leon, who indeed seems a bit confused by the whole exchange. "He says thank you, for taking care of me." Sasha's ears burn while saying so, but he has to agree with the sentiment regardless, which makes it even worse tonsay it out loud. "...And he apologizes for not letting us make changes to the cabin."

"Not that I know off." He answers, wheeling himself towards the entrance of the store, Leon by his side. He's glad that Leon doesn't immediately go to push the wheelchair for him, but rather lets him maneuver on his own unless asked for assistance. Sasha still appreciates Leon opening the door for him without him having to ask for it. It feels almost normal like this. Sasha is happy to not have to pull attention to every little thing that gets in his way and judging from the lack of a pointed look or any verbal indication on Leon's part he didn't even really think about doing it either, as if it comes naturally to him by now to accommodate for Sasha.

An odd feeling of warmth overcomes him, knowing that Leon cares enough to account for things like this by now, although it is also slightly tainted by him wishing that it wasn't like this, that things like closed doors and uneven pathing weren't obstacles to overcome. Sasha pulls himself away from those thoughts, focussing on what Leon is saying instead.

He considers it. "An electric screwdriver, a power drill, nails and screws..." He keeps adding to Leon's list, and Leon chimes in with a few more ideas as well. Measuring tape, a level, "...Some work gloves and protective eyewear, too." Sasha gives Leon a pointed look. "I will not have you injure yourself on my watch."

When they come to a halt in the entryway of the store to orientate themselves Leon brings another thing back to his attention. It's easy to forget when it's just them, but Leon's knowledge of Russian is limited and he's relying entirely on Sasha here, and readily, too as it seems. Somehow that makes Sasha feel a little better about himself, like he is finally doing his part in their little arrangement.

"Of course." He says without hesitation, not entirely unaware of the curious and borderline distrustful glances they're receiving while they keep speaking English. But before they seek out an employee to guide them, Sasha takes stock of their surroundings, reading a few signs which are already helpful enough in directing him where to go. "Tools should be this way. Let's go from there."

As they make their way down the aisle to get to the tools Sasha looks up at Leon. "Do you want me to teach you a few more words and phrases?" Sasha knows Leon has some understanding of his native language. He's heard him greet people and thank the staff at the hospital and the clerk at the gas station at the very least. But Sasha wouldn't mind teaching him at all. In fact, he finds he's quietly hopeful that Leon will agree, although he isn't entirely sure as to why.