Аво́сь да как-нибу́дь до добра́ не доведу́т.

[amar_dulce_vin]

WHO: The Soviet Cousins
WHEN: Sunday, December 19th, a bit past 3 in the morning
WHERE: At home
WHAT: What is supposed to be post-break up comforting. But isn't.

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[das_vedanya]

He was reading Tolstoy.

Though reading was a very lose term of it. How many times had he read the same line? "Did you notice he almost never smiles? While I was singing, I turned around suddenly and caught him looking at me and he was smiling then. And I felt - but it's almost impossible to describe - I felt as if someone had given me the most enormous, beautiful present." "Did you notice he almost never smiles? While I was singing, I turned around suddenly and caught him looking at me and he was smiling then. And I felt - but it's almost impossible to describe - I felt as if someone had given me the most enormous, beautiful present." "Did you notice he almost never smiles? While I was singing, I turned around suddenly and caught him looking at me and he was smiling the--"

"Vanechka."He half expected to see Natalia in the doorway, having read the same line repetitively by a character who shared her name. "Eyonya?" He placed the book into his lap and watched the way the Moldovan's hair plaited down his back in that impossible length

[amar_dulce_vin]

"Вот что я просто спросил вас." he replied pointedly, dropping down beside his cousin on the bed. His hair was at last free of the braid and fell in kinked waves, which he pushed irritably over his shoulder. "И не говорите со мной на английском, я чертовски устал за это."

He clicked his tongue absently a few times, wondering what to say.

"You left the door unlocked," he said simply, "And I'm awake because I just got home from work. But you left the door unlocked and you never leave the door unlocked."

The unlocked door wasn't simply an unlocked door. It was symbolic in its own strange way. The fact that it hadn't been locked was significant. It meant something had deeply unsettled Ivan's peace of mind. Very few things could do that.

Very few people could do that.

Ion quickly came to a conclusion and sighed in sharp annoyance.

"What the hell did that stupid Americanii do now?"

[das_vedanya]

"Я прошу прощения." He replied bitterly, uncertain if he actually meant it now that Ion had learned to read him easier than Ivan could read his book. Russian at home, English outside. ""И я не оставил дверь незапертой. Я всегда заблокировать его." Ivan protested, dropping his head onto his cousin's nearest shoulder. With his neck craned at this angle, one of his longer scars strained under the stretch, but something felt comforting in the familiarity of something he could connect to his childhood. He felt like a child, with Tolstoy in his lap like a picture book he could only stare at the red cover of.

"Вы уже говорили это сами: он сделал что-то глупо. Его реакция всегда... преувеличены."

And now, they are speaking Russian.

[amar_dulce_vin]

Interesting.

"You know, Newton's Law. For every action, there is a reaction." Ion said mildly, "Or something to that effect. That begs the question...what did you do, Vanechka? Besides leave the door unlocked. Because you did leave it unlocked, unless a domovoi unlocked it behind you. But either way, does this mean he won't be coming around anymore? We should celebrate. This is a happy occasion."

[das_vedanya]

"Physics does not apply to him," the Russian protested irritably, wanting to have nothing to do with the Physics and feeling the sudden urge to shove an apple down Newton's throat. "And you may find this hard to believe" - sometimes even Ivan found it hard to believe - "but I am not in the mood to celebrate."

He lifted a hand to his forehead to flick away the hairs sticking to his eyelashes. He made a mental note to get a haircut, but then remembered the length of his cousin's for justification in keeping it over his eyes.

So ridiculous. Even Ion trims his bangs. You are so competitive about the oddest things, cousin.

[amar_dulce_vin]

"So you don't want to tell me what you did to make him overreact," Ion mused idly, taking note of his cousin's evasion, "And you don't feel like celebrating his glorious never-return. Well then, I'll celebrate. I hate that bastard. Where do you keep the vodka?"

However, the Moldovan made no move to disturb Ivan from his position. Trying to wrest information from Ivan was quite like playing the oddest game of chess and tag.

I have you in check. How will you avoid me now?

Then again, they'd been playing games since they were very small. After all, the frivolities had only recently become awkwardly polite battles.

Shut up. I am competitive about everything.

[das_vedanya]

"Do you remember when we were young and we used to play house? Natalia always insisted that I was father, she was mother, and you and... your sister were our children?" His voice cracked three words from last, and he had to bite his lip to compose himself and refuse showcasing any sign of weakness. He gently lifted his head from its perch on Ion's shoulder, though did nothing to raise his eyes past his knees. He had to twist his body to reach beneath his pillow. He clutched the tiny box as if it would shatter like glass if held too tightly. He carelessly tossed it into his cousin's lap.

Tag, you're it.

Clearly.

[amar_dulce_vin]

Ion stared disdainfully at the box laying innocently in his lap. He didn't need to touch it. Didn't need to open it to know exactly what it was and what it was supposed to be a cheap imitation of.

"So." The word fell like a pick on ice, permeating the room's atmosphere with frigid disapproval. "Playing house indeed. Does this mean you'll be the father, that bastard will be the other father, Natalia will play the crazy sister in the asylum, and I'll be--what? The pet dog since Miruna isn't here anymore? Futu--"

He snarled a long stream of furious Romanian as he slid away from Ivan and stood, the tiny box clenched in his hand in a deathgrip.

"This is ridiculous," he hissed at Ivan, whipping around to glare at him coldly, "Married? He wants to get married? Clearly I'm missing something. You act like two children who can't decide if they hate each other or tolerate each other, and he wants to get married so that the two of you can drag the rest of along on your happy carriage ride to matrimonial hell so that when you two fight like

[das_vedanya]

"You know how I feel about marriage, Eyonya!" His voice lowered to a predatory growl as he followed Ion's movements with eyes alone. "Every day, my sister asks me to marry her. Every day I say 'no.' And then my parents split before I reached my fourth birthday. I deal with failing marriages nearly every day! They tear each other apart emotionally, they only care about besting the other person in whatever way possible! Money, it's all monetary! Who gets the house, who gets the cat, who gets the children."

Ivan's head sank protectively between his shoulders. His hands rose from the comforter to cushion his ears. All he could hear was the rush of blood pumping through his veins.

[amar_dulce_vin]

"Don't shut me out just because you don't want to hear what I have to say, Braginsky." Ion drawled coldly. "I don't know how you feel about anything, and you don't know how I feel about anything. Because we don't know anything about each other. Or rather, you don't know anything about me because you've been rather wrapped up in your toy."

He shoved the box into his coat pocket and then slid the coat off his shoulders, letting it land on the floor with a soft rustle. He pushed it off to the side with his foot as he strode forward to grasp Ivan's wrists in a gesture that made deja vu resound swiftly in his head. Ion pulled Ivan's hands away from his ears, sliding his own hands up to entangle his fingers with Ivan's and hold them in place.

"I know I was an unwelcome addition to your little playhouse charade of domestic bliss," Ion murmured smoothly, "But the first few days...you could've at least pretended I existed. I don't deal very well with being ignored."

[das_vedanya]

The Russian gently allowed his fingers, too, to intertwine with his cousin's, with a touch of reluctance now that there was no chance of internally fleeing. He sank dismally between his shoulders, his legs shifted and War and Peace fell closed in his lap. "Did you notice he almost never smiles? While I was singing, I turned around suddenly and caught him looking at me and he was smiling the--"

His eyes scarcely caught the same line he kept rereading. His grip wasn't forceful, it was delicate, but still very much present. "I did... I knew you existed, Eyonya. You were only unexpected. I had not seen you since I was twelve!" His voice took a colder and more bitter turn. "Your parents called me and begged their 'favorite nephew' to take you in."

[amar_dulce_vin]

"And I hadn't seen you since I was much smaller than that," Ion reminded him softly, gripping Ivan's fingers more tightly.

"--n. And I felt - but it's almost impossible to describe - I felt as if someone had given me the most enormous, beautiful present."

"You can't blame me. You could've said no. We both know what complete fools my parents are. And it isn't as though I wanted to come." His own voice became equally cold, perhaps even more bitter. "I was fine in Anenii Noi. I knew everybody. черт я знаю лучше чем тот который я не."

[das_vedanya]

"Then why did you come?!" Ivan demanded bitterly. His wrists twisted a little in his cousin's grip. "If your life was so perfect in Moldova, why did you come here? I was not prepared to take you in. In fact, I wasn't even certain if I would ever see you again."

With a final tug on his grip, Ion let one of his wrists free; it fell to the mattress with a loud thump, and Ivan did not have the vigor to lift it back up.

[amar_dulce_vin]

"I came because no one can tell them no and expect to have any peace for the rest of their waking moments. The further I can get from them, the saner I become." He smiled then, a little bitter, a touch absurd, a bit hysterical. He refused to be hurt by such a childish gesture as being pulled away from. It meant that he was right, but Ivan was refusing to acknowledge it.

"But we're getting away from the point, I think." Ion said suddenly, changing tack. "What's done is done. Speaking of, what was done to cause all...this?"

Ivan was very peculiar; he tried very hard to hide his hurts but displayed them with the bitterness of the self-righteous martyrs all the same. So very odd... Perhaps there was something to that story about the old family gene of mental imbalance. An unlocked door. Disturbed peace of mind. A box that was offensive in its insincerity.

'You're like this house. You suffer, you show your wounds, but you stand.'

[das_vedanya]

His lips and eyes hardened. His free hand writhed in the sheets, grasped at two or three folds and pressed his knuckles together. His imprisoned hand remained still, still not healed over correctly since his uncle broke it. His eyes locked with his cousin's, and they stared there in silence as if even blinking meant the break of the spell of silence. Ivan could feel his irises quivering even long before he registered the fact that his eyes were now settled on the mattress.

"I just do not understand... have I done something wrong? Why is my best never good enough for anyone?"

[amar_dulce_vin]

"Because that," Ion retorted bluntly, "Is the way martyrs and idiots live. You do not strike me as one who is wronged continuously without seeking compensation in some way, and you do often prove that you are not an idiot, though you have your moments. You are born on your own and you will die on your own, so your best need only satisfy you. The person trying to please everyone pleases no one. But you are not an idiot, so you knew this already."

He released Ivan's other wrist with a deliberate slowness, maintaining that he was the one in control of this conversation, and he would be the one to decide when it was over, childish tantrums of Ivan's or not.

"What bothers me is that you are continuously insulting my intelligence by vaguely changing the subject whenever I ask you what happened to cause Jones to decide to do this. I am not in the mood to play word games with someone who is ill-prepared, so if you would just get to the point and tell me what you did. I think we'd both be happier for it."