[Oh. Oh! That jogs her memory a bit more, provides some additional context where he'd left her rather clueless before. That's right, from the night that they went stargazing... What if he never turned into a prince? How many times did Anya already tell him that he did a good job of playing the prince for her....
But the disorienting train of thought continues, because he's moving right along without her. For once, she feels like she's the one getting steamrolled in their conversation? There's a confused blink before she nods once.]
Ah...
[And then - realizes.]
A-Ah? Wait, a... сувенир? ["Souvenir" - there's no chance of her remembering that one right now.] Yuratchka, I did not get anything for you... Not fair!
( he shakes his head as he lets go, spinning around and unaware that for once he's not the one trying to keep up with wherever Anya's head is jumping to next. he crouches down, working on the ties of his pack as he speaks. )
No, not anything like that. It's something else.
( he digs around, pulling out a turtle shell of all things, setting it to the side. what he pulls out has been tucked in the remains of a jacket that'd match his slacks if he had any desire to wear it. he doesn't, hence it's undignified existence stuffed in a carrysack. he unfolds it, pulling out the white and red and blue jacket it'd been protecting.
he stands with an echo of his normal grace, stepping light back around and throwing the jacket up and out, settling it over Anya's shoulders without so much as a by your leave. )
Since I ran off with yours the last time.
( his Team Russia jacket. his, because it's that same feeling as the stupid cat plushes, only slightly less irritating now. he's seen the like before on athletes competing for Russia; it makes him wonder if the skating he's grown into isn't something he actually did as competitively as the men he's watched skate through his hallucinomemories.
it's neither here nor there at the moment. he's adjusting the fall of the jacket over Anya's shoulders, pulling the collar close to closed by the front of her chest, over the dip of her collarbone. it doesn't match anything about her right now; her costume is something else, but quintessentially Anya, regardless. )
[To be honest, she would've expected to receive the turtle shell before a jacket.
There's a tilt of her head when it unfolds from where it had been hidden in the pack, genuinely bewildered. It's a nice jacket. Is that also something that was blocking what Yuri wanted to get - but then he's leaving it around her shoulders, easy at that. She doesn't watch enough international sports competitions to recognize it. It's not the first time that Yuri's let her borrow one of his jackets, so she thinks for a moment that she's supposed to just hold onto it for now.
Up until he clears that up.
Again, she's confused. Just when she thought that she was starting to get somewhere, she's thrown off again.]
Mm...? Me? Davenka already gave back my last jacket...
[She trails off, her brows furrowed together as she looks up at Yuri with a look of befuddlement. Her last jacket was returned to her, so why is he giving her this one?]
Yuratchka...? Почему...
[Another gently bewildered "why?"]
It is... nice? Ah - I like it. Cпасибо. Thank you... but you know that you do not have to?
[Or is it like when he grows out of things and gives it to her? What does this have to do with frogs....]
( he breathes out sharply, stubborn and not equipped to handle this. not the way it really deserves to be handled, but fuck that. he's himself. he'll handle this the Yuri Plisetsky way. )
Nastenka. I want to.
( he'd sound mildly offended if he weren't instead reaching out to flick her forehead, gently. he's not so thick that he can't see he's lost her along the topic jumping he's been doing on his own; he clenches his jaw, considering what the hell do I do. Yuuri hadn't been helpful. only said he needed to give an answer one way or another.
he'd found it weeks ago. he's distilled it since then. he did not think he'd be saying what he is, because it had been, at first... )
Do you remember when you confessed to me and I freaked out and told you I needed time to answer? Do you have time to listen to me now? Before something else happens and it's another five weeks or five months or ten years or what-the-fuck-ever and I don't know where any of my friends are and I can't get back in touch with them and there's too much I haven't said.
( he's let his hands drop away from the collar of the jacket, falling back to his sides. he's not going to hold on to her for this, for all he's intently focused and watching her now.
will you be my friend or won't you?
of course we're friends.
how do you know?
I love you. he's not sure about that last one. doesn't think he will be for a while, because he's still figuring out what that means for all his friends. looking at it from any other angle, he has hang-ups, and he's gunshy, and he's fucking tired of himself. best to clear the air now and let them both figure out where things fall after. )
[There's a complaint on her end, because she doesn't think that this one is her fault for not understanding. When he flicks her forehead she leans back just a little bit, for half a second, before she lets out a soft huff before trying again to focus on what he's saying. For a little bit, her expression borders on a pout.
.... until it doesn't, because then she's surprised.
Oh. An answer.
She entertains the thought for a moment of telling him that she'd expected to have to wait until Christmas, but figures that it might be better to not throw him off when he's clearly already on uncharted waters. So she settles, her expression unwrinkling in understanding.
Frog princes. Jackets. That's... part of the answer?
Some part of her wants to try to expect what he'll say, some part of her is still firmly rooted in the belief that he's going to say no and this was just one big long delay, but most of her is - oddly, still worried about him.]
... Да....
[Some part of her wants to cheer up, to encourage him and seem - excited for this, but she can't. And she promised him that she would try to be more sincerely honest about everything.
Even the things that scare her.]
If you know it... yes. I want to know Yuratchka's answer.
( he clarifies, fingers twitching at his sides. he's still scared, because he doesn't think there's a right answer. he feels like there aren't any wrong ones either by now, just degrees of living through as they are. growing as whatever the hell kind of person they'll be, pursuing the goals and dreams and careers that matter most.
frankly, if Anya never had found hers, Yuri doesn't think he'd even have hesitated in telling her no. he cannot understand or support the passionless or directionless, not the way people seem to expect. certainly not in these situations. but she has; he has to admit and face that it's something he can respond to, perhaps already has been. there's an equality in it that's... appealing, for all he has different concerns, all the same ones he had before Anya confessed to him on a stage after her own debut at a convention that ended in tearing Recolle apart.
so it goes. and in this case, as a rush of words that tumble out, lancing a wound he didn't know he had before. )
I don't get romance. I mean, I don't know how you can tell the difference between that kind of love and any of the rest. I know I love you, and I don't know right now if that's different from how I love Dave, or how I love Karkat. I know I like you. I think you're attractive ( he lifts a hand to tap over his temple, indicating where he means ), I like spending time with you. I... ( he can't help the fact he starts to blush, because it's embarrassing, because admitting he's now thought about any of these things is scary; it's vulnerable. he hates it. he thinks he needs it. ) ... would like to kiss. You, specifically. And I don't know if that's enough or if it means what you might want it to mean, because I still don't get it. What I mean is I'm... I want to figure it out, if you still do. I can't promise I'm a frog who's going to figure out how to be a prince, I'm not going to be any less dedicated to getting where I want to be with dance, or figuring out what the hell is going on with our lives and this stupid excuse for a city we live in. We're not going to have a lot of time together when we're both busy. We can talk and text and it's just like it is usually, I think? I don't know what's supposed to make it different.
( he doesn't know what qualifies the difference. he really doesn't know; is it just the potential for physical intimacy? are there other levels of emotional intimacy he's going to stand there, hackles up, trying not to run away from? he thinks he can handle being reliable, because in his eyes, he's already reliable. but staying open, not closing off, what is it? what's the difference?
is there any? he rushes to add one last thing, for the first time looking away. not for long: he drags his eyes back to her face right after, but now he looks... both red in the face and faintly panicked. if he throws the worst, most blunt parts of his issues out there, maybe it'll be enough to get her to decide against a fairytale romance that he'll never be. )
And I don't — okay, this is going to sound stupid and I'm not saying we'd ever have sex but I'm saying that I don't think I'd be okay with it until we were both, um, older. Like over eighteen.
( his hands are clenched in fists now, because he knows why he's saying that, and that it's far too close to things back home and he would not, he would not, have the same caveat with a guy. it's inherently unfair, but he doesn't want to deal with any chances at...
... he just can't. he can't do it, and he had decided, weeks ago, to be up front that there's only so much of himself he can commit like that. the fact he's shortsighted and focused on only one... particular... aspect.......................... is because of the bigger fear he has about families and things like that. also, frankly, a lack of imagination and experience.
but he's talking to Anya, so they should both be secure in that lack of experience or... desire... as far as he knows. also, he's hoping none of those knights heard what he said, and that the ghosts (who did) stop laughing. the fact they laugh at all has his hackles up; he turns to glare at them and tells them to: )
And by the end of it all, Anya is so red-faced and panicked and it feels like her heart is going to absolutely explode in her chest that she's going to go ahead and. Just. Let her fingers curl around the hood of the jacket that he gave her, lift it right onto her head, and reach up to pull down the front so that it can try to cover some of her absolutely mortified expression.]
Yuratchkaaaaaaa.
[That's it.
That's all she's got.
Her hands are honestly covering her cheeks and Anya doesn't get embarrassed about many things - or... almost anything at all, really. But - ]
Kiss? Sex? [A VERY FAST SHAKE OF HER HEAD.] Hепристойный!
["Obscene, indecent, lewd, unseemly, salacious, filthy" - every google translate definition for that is hilarious and apt.]
You are too much! Ah - [She lets one hand rest over her heart, which manages to pull away from some of her hoodie cover, but honestly.] Anya's heart hurts.... It is too fast. Too much.
[It takes a little bit for her to catch her breath, though she might be forcing it just a little so he doesn't get a chance to interrupt her. When she's sparing a glance up at him again, she's almost definitely pouting.]
Ah - I still like you....
[kinda unfortunate tbh. even she thinks it's kinda of funny.]
Mm... I love you too, as a friend I know. More... I hope so, but I do not think that is a thing you know right away.
[Even if she's too much of a romantic to ever think of discarding the idea - why would you want to date someone that you don't think you can love? Which is why she's just sort of laughs now, even if her cheeks are still red.]
All of what Yuratchka said is like... a warning? Договор? A contract?
( his hands come up to try and hold off... or reassure... or something? he doesn't know, looking more than mildly panicked himself, heart beating too fast because he's equal parts sure he screwed that up royally and ah, well.
she's hiding. in the hoodie he gave her.
yeah, he screwed up. though in this he's not apologetic: he's being overblunt because he needs to be that blunt. it's almost amusing this is what it takes to embarrass her, except he's embarrassed too. he isn't going to walk away, not until he hears her out, but...
... wait. what? his voice comes out slightly higher than he likes. )
I'll say let's give this a try, and don't tell me later on I didn't warn you up front.
( he pauses, shoulders hunching. this has nothing to do with confessions or any of the rest. this is just because he needs more reassurance and less of the emotionally fraught confusion. his voice drops down lower, softer. this is a different kind of admittance. )
The idea of it makes her laugh more than anything, startled into it and she has to cover her mouth quickly before the rest of the giggles escape. The movement is so sudden that it makes her hood fall back down, her shoulders still shaking with her own laughter and disbelief. Oh. He said....
He said yes.
(She'd played it out in her head plenty of times. "I can't return your feelings, Nastenka" or something like that. And then she would say, "I know, it's okay."
Apparently, she didn't know anything at all?)
It's automatic, how she self-consciously plays with her hair, but also can't help but beam. She nods.]
... mm. Anya can do that.
[More confidently, even if she's embarrassed and blushing too - but when has Anya ever been anything but direct. She opens her arms to immediately lean against him in another hug, humming a happy little note.]
Yuratchka is funny...
Да. I want to try too. You warned me. Anya will warn you too.
I think I like you a lot, because my heart did not do this before. Ah... but I will try to be good, and meet you where you are. Друг... Because you are my friend first.
( well, that's out of the way. he sort of decides all at once not to think about it anymore right now, since apparently, it's resolved, for whatever that means in the future. Anya's laughing, or trying not to, and he doesn't feel like being offended: the ghosts have shut up too. (they may have nodded to each other. the young will be as they are.)
instead, he breathes out in a sigh of relief, hugging Anya again and closing his eyes as he drops his head down toward her shoulder. she's cut up and injured too, he noticed, and he'll ask about that in a moment, but there's only so much either of them can do. if it hadn't been the horror of today, and everything that's been happening, it was the horror of the weeks prior. the horror of fighting ghosts and something that felt and moved like evil, of seeing someone he didn't dislike practically impaled, so they could kill someone who'd already died and murdered in the process for her own agenda. in a mansion on fire, they'd escaped after hacking her apart; had found the plans for the Retrospec building, only to have the world drop out from under their feet.
there are ways of falling where the fall becomes simply another means of existing in terminal velocity. Yuri had hooked an arm around one of the stone lions, perhaps even the one laying own to their side. its singularly unconcerned with their drama. Yuri appreciates that sense of pervasive calm. he could use more of it right now, to calm down his head, or his heart, or his stomach.
instead he just holds one of his three best friends close and hopes they both figure out what meeting each other where they are really means. )
You sure that isn't a heart condition? ( he knows not, but the half-assed tease is as tired as he is. ) Yeah. I'll try to do that too.
[There's another small laugh from her, even as he falls against her and she accepts that easily.]
I think it means a new type of happiness.
[Which is why she would've been fine with her crush being unrequited, she thought... but ah - this is fine too, isn't it? So she hums and keeps one arm around Yuri, though her other one reaches up to let her fingers run through his hair, carefully easing out any tangles. They're both tired. Anya doesn't even quite realize the horror that he'd been through - though that'll probably be explained later.
For now, it's a moment to rest.]
Главная? Is Yuratchka going home now? You should rest. Davechka wants to see you.
( ah. why does it feel nice to have her fingers run through his hair? the fainter memories of his childhood have similar moments; mostly, he ascribes his grandfather's face. he accepts it regardless, holding still like somehow that's the appropriate reaction. )
Mm. I missed him too. ( understatement. he missed all three of them like his Grandpa's cooking. it left him feeling better just being around them; and he doesn't doubt that it's the same for each of his friends. still half mumbling, he asks the pertinent question. the one he would have asked regardless. )
Soon. When I am home. I want to see Mama and Polaris.
[Some part of her is glad that she hasn't seen them yet - because that means that they weren't on the battlefield. Yet the rest of her obviously aches with the feeling of missing them. It's been three weeks. When she told her mother that she would still be at the convention, she didn't think that would be the last time she'd see her for a month.
Still, she'll keep carding her fingers through his hair in an easy, repetitive motion, careful not to pull on any tangles.]
Katya, Davechka, and Yuratchka, найденный. All found and safe. Mm, there are more still...
[Of course there is, Anya wants to check on so many others.]
But Anya's phone needs to fix first...
Edited (tmw when you misread the tag) 2017-08-25 09:21 (UTC)
( he's tired enough that for a moment he's faced with the almost overwhelming desire to fall asleep standing up, Anya carding her fingers through his hair. not even the nervousness in his stomach and his uncertainty and the frisson of excitement means anything concrete right now. they've all been through so much.
he pulls back and frowns. )
Most everyone on the network feels like they know you. Nastenka, what happened to your phone?
( here are his hands; here they come to rest on her shoulders. Yuri watches Anya's face, feeling for a moment like his grandfather. then again, he thinks that's mostly the exhaustion, because surely Yuri never darts his gaze away when he's done something stupid.
( honestly what he says tomorrow is likely true: he feels like a grandpa more than a teenager right now, and that has a lot to do with exhaustion, and a lot to do with the fact that he's worked himself up to an awkward caveat for saying yes I'll attempt to be datable with you only to realise, again, one of his best friends (... his girlfriend) has zero sense of self preservation.
so he's ignoring her held up hands and reaching out to pinch her cheeks, mostly gently, with both his hands. )
I'll always freaking worry, and no shit I'm mad! I care about what happens to you! Especially when you don't try keeping yourself safe! Were you being careful, or were you acting like nothing in the world could really hurt you, Na-sten-ka?
Anya doesn't quite accept that - she moves her hands to try to bat his away so that he doesn't pinch her cheeks? She can't even answer like that, Yuri... Then it's a firm shake of her head.]
Careful...!
[ . . . crossing a river after some monkeys.]
I had to follow monkeys, there was not enough time...
Цель! We still made it to the place we needed to go...
[and honestly if he tries to pinch her cheeks again she's just gonna bury her face in his shoulder so he doesn't?? do that again???]
to no answer other than ??? (im mad my reply here was eaten twice)
( oh, sure, bat his hands away. it means he does try to pinch her cheeks again, since his backdrop of responses to things like this pretty much circle around to what his grandfather's done; when she's tucked her face into his shoulder, he rolls his eyes skyward, awkwardly settling a hand at her side, the other across her back.
he pats her once, thump, as a reminder. )
You rushed in and you're lucky you weren't injured, is what you mean. Shit, how much of that was happening?
( to all of them. to dark caves and insect ridden swamps with alligatorcrocs and frogdogs and houses that aim to kill with the death that's already lingering. )
Will you slow down some? You're kick ass, but you don't need to do everything on your own. ( he pauses, breathing out in a ghost of a laugh. ) Which is rich coming from me, I get it, but come on, Nastenka.
( he doesn't look appeased, but he's... not sure how much of the past he's ever wanted to hold on to, especially when they have so many complications around the concept alone these days. )
I'll be mad if I'm mad. ( he points out, huffing and looking down. ) I'm more glad you're okay. Just... think sometimes before rushing the ell in. Knowing where you need to go and getting hurt going there when you don't need to isn't good planning, it's just dumb.
( he had to learn that lesson on his own. the stone lion, off to the side, sedately gazes on them... the settles in for a cat nap. )
[Lectured as soon as they're together again. Anya just pouts for a little bit longer even as she meets his gaze before eventually settling on a thoughtful little hum.]
It is how Yuratchka shows he is worried....
[yet another translation to be done, goodness]
I will try to think more, so you do not need to worry. I did not mean to...
( he sighs, partly resigned, partly because he knows she sometimes doesn't mean what she does, but not thinking things through, which... was one of his own faults, tended to lead her toward unexpected and undesireable results. )
I show I'm worried in a bunch of different ways, okay. ( but she's right -- that's one of them. in the end... he doesn't know what to do, so he pats her shoulder. this.
why did you want to date this? seriously??? )
It's not me worrying that I'm worried about. There's a lot of stuff you can not mean to do, but when you do it, it's been done. ... I'm way too tired to make this make sense right now.
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[Oh. Oh! That jogs her memory a bit more, provides some additional context where he'd left her rather clueless before. That's right, from the night that they went stargazing... What if he never turned into a prince? How many times did Anya already tell him that he did a good job of playing the prince for her....
But the disorienting train of thought continues, because he's moving right along without her. For once, she feels like she's the one getting steamrolled in their conversation? There's a confused blink before she nods once.]
Ah...
[And then - realizes.]
A-Ah? Wait, a... сувенир? ["Souvenir" - there's no chance of her remembering that one right now.] Yuratchka, I did not get anything for you... Not fair!
[THIS IS JUST UNEVEN, HE'S PLAYING DIRTY]
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No, not anything like that. It's something else.
( he digs around, pulling out a turtle shell of all things, setting it to the side. what he pulls out has been tucked in the remains of a jacket that'd match his slacks if he had any desire to wear it. he doesn't, hence it's undignified existence stuffed in a carrysack. he unfolds it, pulling out the white and red and blue jacket it'd been protecting.
he stands with an echo of his normal grace, stepping light back around and throwing the jacket up and out, settling it over Anya's shoulders without so much as a by your leave. )
Since I ran off with yours the last time.
( his Team Russia jacket. his, because it's that same feeling as the stupid cat plushes, only slightly less irritating now. he's seen the like before on athletes competing for Russia; it makes him wonder if the skating he's grown into isn't something he actually did as competitively as the men he's watched skate through his hallucinomemories.
it's neither here nor there at the moment. he's adjusting the fall of the jacket over Anya's shoulders, pulling the collar close to closed by the front of her chest, over the dip of her collarbone. it doesn't match anything about her right now; her costume is something else, but quintessentially Anya, regardless. )
For you.
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There's a tilt of her head when it unfolds from where it had been hidden in the pack, genuinely bewildered. It's a nice jacket. Is that also something that was blocking what Yuri wanted to get - but then he's leaving it around her shoulders, easy at that. She doesn't watch enough international sports competitions to recognize it. It's not the first time that Yuri's let her borrow one of his jackets, so she thinks for a moment that she's supposed to just hold onto it for now.
Up until he clears that up.
Again, she's confused. Just when she thought that she was starting to get somewhere, she's thrown off again.]
Mm...? Me? Davenka already gave back my last jacket...
[She trails off, her brows furrowed together as she looks up at Yuri with a look of befuddlement. Her last jacket was returned to her, so why is he giving her this one?]
Yuratchka...? Почему...
[Another gently bewildered "why?"]
It is... nice? Ah - I like it. Cпасибо. Thank you... but you know that you do not have to?
[Or is it like when he grows out of things and gives it to her? What does this have to do with frogs....]
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Nastenka. I want to.
( he'd sound mildly offended if he weren't instead reaching out to flick her forehead, gently. he's not so thick that he can't see he's lost her along the topic jumping he's been doing on his own; he clenches his jaw, considering what the hell do I do. Yuuri hadn't been helpful. only said he needed to give an answer one way or another.
he'd found it weeks ago. he's distilled it since then. he did not think he'd be saying what he is, because it had been, at first... )
Do you remember when you confessed to me and I freaked out and told you I needed time to answer? Do you have time to listen to me now? Before something else happens and it's another five weeks or five months or ten years or what-the-fuck-ever and I don't know where any of my friends are and I can't get back in touch with them and there's too much I haven't said.
( he's let his hands drop away from the collar of the jacket, falling back to his sides. he's not going to hold on to her for this, for all he's intently focused and watching her now.
will you be my friend or won't you?
of course we're friends.
how do you know?
I love you. he's not sure about that last one. doesn't think he will be for a while, because he's still figuring out what that means for all his friends. looking at it from any other angle, he has hang-ups, and he's gunshy, and he's fucking tired of himself. best to clear the air now and let them both figure out where things fall after. )
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[There's a complaint on her end, because she doesn't think that this one is her fault for not understanding. When he flicks her forehead she leans back just a little bit, for half a second, before she lets out a soft huff before trying again to focus on what he's saying. For a little bit, her expression borders on a pout.
.... until it doesn't, because then she's surprised.
Oh. An answer.
She entertains the thought for a moment of telling him that she'd expected to have to wait until Christmas, but figures that it might be better to not throw him off when he's clearly already on uncharted waters. So she settles, her expression unwrinkling in understanding.
Frog princes. Jackets. That's... part of the answer?
Some part of her wants to try to expect what he'll say, some part of her is still firmly rooted in the belief that he's going to say no and this was just one big long delay, but most of her is - oddly, still worried about him.]
... Да....
[Some part of her wants to cheer up, to encourage him and seem - excited for this, but she can't. And she promised him that she would try to be more sincerely honest about everything.
Even the things that scare her.]
If you know it... yes. I want to know Yuratchka's answer.
no subject
( he clarifies, fingers twitching at his sides. he's still scared, because he doesn't think there's a right answer. he feels like there aren't any wrong ones either by now, just degrees of living through as they are. growing as whatever the hell kind of person they'll be, pursuing the goals and dreams and careers that matter most.
frankly, if Anya never had found hers, Yuri doesn't think he'd even have hesitated in telling her no. he cannot understand or support the passionless or directionless, not the way people seem to expect. certainly not in these situations. but she has; he has to admit and face that it's something he can respond to, perhaps already has been. there's an equality in it that's... appealing, for all he has different concerns, all the same ones he had before Anya confessed to him on a stage after her own debut at a convention that ended in tearing Recolle apart.
so it goes. and in this case, as a rush of words that tumble out, lancing a wound he didn't know he had before. )
I don't get romance. I mean, I don't know how you can tell the difference between that kind of love and any of the rest. I know I love you, and I don't know right now if that's different from how I love Dave, or how I love Karkat. I know I like you. I think you're attractive ( he lifts a hand to tap over his temple, indicating where he means ), I like spending time with you. I... ( he can't help the fact he starts to blush, because it's embarrassing, because admitting he's now thought about any of these things is scary; it's vulnerable. he hates it. he thinks he needs it. ) ... would like to kiss. You, specifically. And I don't know if that's enough or if it means what you might want it to mean, because I still don't get it. What I mean is I'm... I want to figure it out, if you still do. I can't promise I'm a frog who's going to figure out how to be a prince, I'm not going to be any less dedicated to getting where I want to be with dance, or figuring out what the hell is going on with our lives and this stupid excuse for a city we live in. We're not going to have a lot of time together when we're both busy. We can talk and text and it's just like it is usually, I think? I don't know what's supposed to make it different.
( he doesn't know what qualifies the difference. he really doesn't know; is it just the potential for physical intimacy? are there other levels of emotional intimacy he's going to stand there, hackles up, trying not to run away from? he thinks he can handle being reliable, because in his eyes, he's already reliable. but staying open, not closing off, what is it? what's the difference?
is there any? he rushes to add one last thing, for the first time looking away. not for long: he drags his eyes back to her face right after, but now he looks... both red in the face and faintly panicked. if he throws the worst, most blunt parts of his issues out there, maybe it'll be enough to get her to decide against a fairytale romance that he'll never be. )
And I don't — okay, this is going to sound stupid and I'm not saying we'd ever have sex but I'm saying that I don't think I'd be okay with it until we were both, um, older. Like over eighteen.
( his hands are clenched in fists now, because he knows why he's saying that, and that it's far too close to things back home and he would not, he would not, have the same caveat with a guy. it's inherently unfair, but he doesn't want to deal with any chances at...
... he just can't. he can't do it, and he had decided, weeks ago, to be up front that there's only so much of himself he can commit like that. the fact he's shortsighted and focused on only one... particular... aspect.......................... is because of the bigger fear he has about families and things like that. also, frankly, a lack of imagination and experience.
but he's talking to Anya, so they should both be secure in that lack of experience or... desire... as far as he knows. also, he's hoping none of those knights heard what he said, and that the ghosts (who did) stop laughing. the fact they laugh at all has his hackles up; he turns to glare at them and tells them to: )
Shut-up!
[1/2]
That is.... an answer.
And by the end of it all, Anya is so red-faced and panicked and it feels like her heart is going to absolutely explode in her chest that she's going to go ahead and. Just. Let her fingers curl around the hood of the jacket that he gave her, lift it right onto her head, and reach up to pull down the front so that it can try to cover some of her absolutely mortified expression.]
Yuratchkaaaaaaa.
[That's it.
That's all she's got.
Her hands are honestly covering her cheeks and Anya doesn't get embarrassed about many things - or... almost anything at all, really. But - ]
Kiss? Sex? [A VERY FAST SHAKE OF HER HEAD.] Hепристойный!
["Obscene, indecent, lewd, unseemly, salacious, filthy" - every google translate definition for that is hilarious and apt.]
You are too much! Ah - [She lets one hand rest over her heart, which manages to pull away from some of her hoodie cover, but honestly.] Anya's heart hurts.... It is too fast. Too much.
[she needs a recovery period]
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Ah - I still like you....
[kinda unfortunate tbh. even she thinks it's kinda of funny.]
Mm... I love you too, as a friend I know. More... I hope so, but I do not think that is a thing you know right away.
[Even if she's too much of a romantic to ever think of discarding the idea - why would you want to date someone that you don't think you can love? Which is why she's just sort of laughs now, even if her cheeks are still red.]
All of what Yuratchka said is like... a warning? Договор? A contract?
What will you do if I say yes, I still want that?
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she's hiding. in the hoodie he gave her.
yeah, he screwed up. though in this he's not apologetic: he's being overblunt because he needs to be that blunt. it's almost amusing this is what it takes to embarrass her, except he's embarrassed too. he isn't going to walk away, not until he hears her out, but...
... wait. what? his voice comes out slightly higher than he likes. )
I'll say let's give this a try, and don't tell me later on I didn't warn you up front.
( he pauses, shoulders hunching. this has nothing to do with confessions or any of the rest. this is just because he needs more reassurance and less of the emotionally fraught confusion. his voice drops down lower, softer. this is a different kind of admittance. )
And ask for another hug.
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Dumb, dumb, dumb, he's so—
... her boyfriend now?
The idea of it makes her laugh more than anything, startled into it and she has to cover her mouth quickly before the rest of the giggles escape. The movement is so sudden that it makes her hood fall back down, her shoulders still shaking with her own laughter and disbelief. Oh. He said....
He said yes.
(She'd played it out in her head plenty of times. "I can't return your feelings, Nastenka" or something like that. And then she would say, "I know, it's okay."
Apparently, she didn't know anything at all?)
It's automatic, how she self-consciously plays with her hair, but also can't help but beam. She nods.]
... mm. Anya can do that.
[More confidently, even if she's embarrassed and blushing too - but when has Anya ever been anything but direct. She opens her arms to immediately lean against him in another hug, humming a happy little note.]
Yuratchka is funny...
Да. I want to try too. You warned me. Anya will warn you too.
I think I like you a lot, because my heart did not do this before. Ah... but I will try to be good, and meet you where you are. Друг... Because you are my friend first.
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instead, he breathes out in a sigh of relief, hugging Anya again and closing his eyes as he drops his head down toward her shoulder. she's cut up and injured too, he noticed, and he'll ask about that in a moment, but there's only so much either of them can do. if it hadn't been the horror of today, and everything that's been happening, it was the horror of the weeks prior. the horror of fighting ghosts and something that felt and moved like evil, of seeing someone he didn't dislike practically impaled, so they could kill someone who'd already died and murdered in the process for her own agenda. in a mansion on fire, they'd escaped after hacking her apart; had found the plans for the Retrospec building, only to have the world drop out from under their feet.
there are ways of falling where the fall becomes simply another means of existing in terminal velocity. Yuri had hooked an arm around one of the stone lions, perhaps even the one laying own to their side. its singularly unconcerned with their drama. Yuri appreciates that sense of pervasive calm. he could use more of it right now, to calm down his head, or his heart, or his stomach.
instead he just holds one of his three best friends close and hopes they both figure out what meeting each other where they are really means. )
You sure that isn't a heart condition? ( he knows not, but the half-assed tease is as tired as he is. ) Yeah. I'll try to do that too.
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I think it means a new type of happiness.
[Which is why she would've been fine with her crush being unrequited, she thought... but ah - this is fine too, isn't it? So she hums and keeps one arm around Yuri, though her other one reaches up to let her fingers run through his hair, carefully easing out any tangles. They're both tired. Anya doesn't even quite realize the horror that he'd been through - though that'll probably be explained later.
For now, it's a moment to rest.]
Главная? Is Yuratchka going home now? You should rest. Davechka wants to see you.
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Mm. I missed him too. ( understatement. he missed all three of them like his Grandpa's cooking. it left him feeling better just being around them; and he doesn't doubt that it's the same for each of his friends. still half mumbling, he asks the pertinent question. the one he would have asked regardless. )
When's Nastenka resting?
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[Some part of her is glad that she hasn't seen them yet - because that means that they weren't on the battlefield. Yet the rest of her obviously aches with the feeling of missing them. It's been three weeks. When she told her mother that she would still be at the convention, she didn't think that would be the last time she'd see her for a month.
Still, she'll keep carding her fingers through his hair in an easy, repetitive motion, careful not to pull on any tangles.]
Katya, Davechka, and Yuratchka, найденный. All found and safe. Mm, there are more still...
[Of course there is, Anya wants to check on so many others.]
But Anya's phone needs to fix first...
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he pulls back and frowns. )
Most everyone on the network feels like they know you. Nastenka, what happened to your phone?
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yeah okay none of her messages went through
her eyes dart elsewhere for the first time, looking far more unsure about this than anything else - ]
It went down in the water....
[ . . . ]
... fall....
[the waterfall]
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( here are his hands; here they come to rest on her shoulders. Yuri watches Anya's face, feeling for a moment like his grandfather. then again, he thinks that's mostly the exhaustion, because surely Yuri never darts his gaze away when he's done something stupid.
... nope, he definitely does that. )
Down in the waterfall. With you?
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Mm.... недобросовестный...
Anya already said this in a text to Yuratchka - you were not supposed to find out now...!
[but still she holds her hands up, as if that's meant to prove something - ]
See? Anya is okay. You do not need to worry or be mad.
y ru dating him again
so he's ignoring her held up hands and reaching out to pinch her cheeks, mostly gently, with both his hands. )
I'll always freaking worry, and no shit I'm mad! I care about what happens to you! Especially when you don't try keeping yourself safe! Were you being careful, or were you acting like nothing in the world could really hurt you, Na-sten-ka?
questions we're all asking
Anya doesn't quite accept that - she moves her hands to try to bat his away so that he doesn't pinch her cheeks? She can't even answer like that, Yuri... Then it's a firm shake of her head.]
Careful...!
[ . . . crossing a river after some monkeys.]
I had to follow monkeys, there was not enough time...
Цель! We still made it to the place we needed to go...
[and honestly if he tries to pinch her cheeks again she's just gonna bury her face in his shoulder so he doesn't?? do that again???]
to no answer other than ??? (im mad my reply here was eaten twice)
he pats her once, thump, as a reminder. )
You rushed in and you're lucky you weren't injured, is what you mean. Shit, how much of that was happening?
( to all of them. to dark caves and insect ridden swamps with alligatorcrocs and frogdogs and houses that aim to kill with the death that's already lingering. )
Will you slow down some? You're kick ass, but you don't need to do everything on your own. ( he pauses, breathing out in a ghost of a laugh. ) Which is rich coming from me, I get it, but come on, Nastenka.
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Anya just does a small little mumble even as she peers up at him once she thinks that he's done scolding her.]
Mm.... I was with others... but - простой. It is what was ahead. I thought it was clear. Do not be mad, we got where we needed to go.
[in a pretty wild way but
y'know. she's a straightforward person and chances of that changing are slim]
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I'll be mad if I'm mad. ( he points out, huffing and looking down. ) I'm more glad you're okay. Just... think sometimes before rushing the ell in. Knowing where you need to go and getting hurt going there when you don't need to isn't good planning, it's just dumb.
( he had to learn that lesson on his own. the stone lion, off to the side, sedately gazes on them... the settles in for a cat nap. )
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[Lectured as soon as they're together again. Anya just pouts for a little bit longer even as she meets his gaze before eventually settling on a thoughtful little hum.]
It is how Yuratchka shows he is worried....
[yet another translation to be done, goodness]
I will try to think more, so you do not need to worry. I did not mean to...
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I show I'm worried in a bunch of different ways, okay. ( but she's right -- that's one of them. in the end... he doesn't know what to do, so he pats her shoulder. this.
why did you want to date this? seriously??? )
It's not me worrying that I'm worried about. There's a lot of stuff you can not mean to do, but when you do it, it's been done. ... I'm way too tired to make this make sense right now.
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