So, that was the game that Dima was choosing to play, hm? Very well. She’d go along with it, for now. This was what she had meant when he’d asked her so long ago about her supposed hatred for him. In this moment, she does hate him. He’s making this task INCREDIBLY difficult. Why did men have to make everything so complicated this way?
Still, Anastasia was not one to back away from a challenge. So she marches up to Dmitry with a determined gleam in her eyes – so clear a man could look right through them and see her inner workings. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t love you, Dima. You know, it was Nona who pushed me to chase after you? If it made me happier than any amount of gold or dresses?”
“Fine then, if that is what you ask of me. We can go. Right now. Find a courthouse, grab Vlad and Lilly and Nona and then we can…. we can be together. But there is one condition here, Dima. We stay in France. With Nona. We can live comfortably. Never have to worry about anything ever again. Silk sheets, porecelain bathtubs… don’t tell me you haven’t dreamed about that too. A life of no worries after so long on the streets. That is my condition. We only get married if you agree. No other way.”
The Dowager told her to chase after him ?? Now he knew this was a JOKE. After the way he behaved ??( dmitry could still f e e l the STING along his cheek ). It mattered not that he didn’t take the money, that he now had absolutely no desire for it —— what was he to them ??
N O T H I N G ——— that’s what. && that would never change.
Russet orbs stare deeply into her own, never once even THINKING of parting ways. Dmitry oh so wants to believe her, a l m o s t does, but this is TOO GOOD to be true. These sorts of things never happen. History will always repeat itself, the conman learned that much from all his studies ; from how his life has gone, there was NO GOOD that could come from it.
“You want me ?? To live in your world ??” Now he scoffs, rough hand rubbing the nape of his neck. Hands sweat, digits tingling with nerves. He’d make a fool of himself, of her && her family. “The press will LOVE it Anya. They’ll never leave it be. I’m ——”Not one for the limelight. A wanted man in the papers for something positive (ish??) — that’s unheard of.
“Of course I have Anya, who wouldn’t ?? Doesn’t mean I’m IDIOTIC enough to believe that could ever happen for me ; so F I N E . Go on && get them. We’ll get hitched. Once you hear what the press will have to say, you’ll be GONE anyways.” Heart sinks, brow rises in CHALLENGE nonetheless. Arms extends for her reach, another disbelieving laugh parting from dry lips. “Lead the way, your highness. We have a wedding to get to.”
No matter how much Dmitry tries to bite down his grin, he can’t. Vlad && Lily ——— they were something all right. He’s happy for them, he truly is / but couldn’t they take their affairs somewhere a bit more …private?? Brows furrow ( stop, there was no making sense of it, whatever they thought ramming their mouths against each other was supposed to be ; for it certainly wasn’t a KISS).
“Anya ——— d’ya ever think that maybe, just maybe, we’re the ones who’ve been doing this whole kissing thing wrong ?? Maybe they’re on to something.” Lips manage to hide a smirk this time, feigning true sincerity in his wide-eyed gaze.
Before a certain someone may even begin to catch on, his arms weave‘round petite frame, pulling her close as calloused hands guide her in a PLAYFUL dip ( && people say he didn’t learn anything from those dance lessons, please). A trademark smirk, lips crash against her own. S L O P P Y , loud. Dmity manages to copy the infamous Vlad kiss for a few seconds before BURSTING into laughter. A jest it may be, but his heart still races ‘gainst chest, the conman fumbling for breath as he straightens up. The power she has over him could not ever be denied.
“What ?? Now you’re not even gonna L O O K at me, is that it ??” Eyes squint, jaw jutting forward in stubborn determination. A part of him wants to play her game / masters of the cold shoulder, their only utterances quick remarks with a sneaky b u r n . But not tonight, a need too strong ( heart too full —— the thought of isolation, solitude running COLD ).
A full pouting lip, he knows she knows —— even if those ice blue eyes refuse to give him that satisfaction. A scoot, arm curling behind her along the couch / not quite close enough to touch, but warmth radiating nonetheless.
Slightly crooked nose, one once broken, brushes along shoulder. Lips peck the base of her neck, before a trail of l i n g e r i n g kisses follow the curve to her jaw. “Not even now ??” His smile presses‘gainst her skin, eyes WIDE. Asking forgiveness, the man can’t ever seem to do it outright ( but he does so in his own way, like now) —— “You can still KISS me y’know —— If you close your eyes, technically you wouldn’t be looking … so you win??”
staring at the young man whilst she smiled, the grand duchess wondered how long she should let him sweat before assuring him she isn’t about to throw him off the balcony to their right for ‘taking away’ her sister.
“ mr. sudayev, you currently remind me of a poor bunny that is about to become lunch to a fox. ” the blonde mused as response to his compliments. perhaps some mercy was in order, more for her sister than for him really, even if she found it greatly amusing.
“ i am not going to eat you. i know i may be a bit quick tempered but if i were very cross with you, you would have known already. so calm down, for i fear if you clench your hands any tighter, you might just break them. have you yet spoken to vladimir? he was rather looking forward to you visiting ”
‘Pon his own name falling from the royal’s lips, the former con-man practically jumps, forcing a stiff bout of laughter at her jest. It was true, he certainly looked like he could use a drink, or five. Forcing hand apart, elbow leans ‘gainst the armrest, at the very least trying to appear relaxed.
It wasn’t working.
“Sorry your highness, I just ——” Lips tightly pursed, why couldn’t better words come ?? He never pitied himself, but if he were to utter I know I’m probably not what was hoped for her, what else would that sound like ?? No. He’s … g r e a t?? If the situation wasn’t so IMPORTANT he would have burst out laughing.
“Good. I’m afraid I wouldn’t be all that tasty, or satisfying.” A small quip, a bit of weight falls from tight shoulders. FREEDOM they did have, but they certainly weren’t wealthy. He gained a bit of weight, but the man was still lean, a man of the streets. At the mention of Vlad, his smile can only widen. FAMILY. “Not yet, but I know we had plans to meet. We figured you ladies would like to spend as much time together as possible, I wouldn’t want to get in the way.” To see his old friend would be perfect, a much needed time to just b e .
“I’m sorry it took so long for us to get here, we certainly wished to come sooner. But I’m at least glad we have a few weeks time. You should have seen how excited Any — Anastasia was as the date got closer && closer … she loves you all a lot, though I know y’know that.”
Even in the midst of his own light slumber, Dmitry can f e e l her stir. Blinks of his eyes, a slow stretch, he turns to her, rough hand resting ‘pon her arm ( a small attempt at comforting her, but it’s never enough —— not for those nightmares, terrors ). Hand rubs along upper arm, russet hues never parting from her own. He’s WORRIED, like always, but she pulls herself away from them this time … it’s not always that easy.
Ocean slits peek up at him, a small grin dashing along the curves of his mouth. He’s met with a low grumble —— stop staring !!
Arms fail not to wrap around her, pulling lithe frame close to his chest, his beating heart. “Well too bad. I’m not lookin’ away‘till I know you’re asleep again. Sorry, not sorry.” Truth be told, he watches her sleep a lot — he swears it’s not in the creepy way. A curious man yearning to her his inner lover’s thoughts, to f i g h t away those demons ( even though he knows she’s more than strong enough to face them on her own ).
As Romanov eyes close, his lips press a k i s s lightly into each lid. “I could even sing you to —” Her hand finds his lips, stopping him. They laugh, his own muffling as face nuzzles into the curve of her neck.&& finally, they both rest.
Lips curl into a t h i n line, eyes WIDE. filled with feignedboredom. Bickering, always bickering. “Of course YOUR HIGHNESS ——” A term he now only uses when she’s being BRAT ( at least in his eyes ). “You’re right&& I’m wrong, like always. No need to go over everything we already talked about. I think your echoing, repetitive words have even made it to RUSSIA&& back. The whole world knows how RIGHT you are.” @drecmfcund // sc.
SILENCE/ only the sound of her deep breaths occasionally broke it. Oh how different this was from the streets of his Petersburg —— never quite allowing himself to fall into heavy slumber, the sound of honking horns, pedaled bikes ( when in the open, the city never slept ). But in their humble flat, even in the middle of PARIS, they could tune everything else out.
This night was always the most DIFFICULT for him, she knew this. It’s why his head rested ‘pon her abdomen, why she fell asleep to digits brushing through his floppy, auburn locks. Memories of his F A T H E R of his last moments alive keep him awake, the rise && fall of her chest one of the few things that soothed him, that could distract.
Anya must have sensed his distress, for a moment later hands ran through his hair, her petite frame stirring ever in the slightest. A quick peek up, he met THE BLUEST set of eyes, albeit sleepy, worried. He hated to cause her more distress, even if he knew that’s what this PARTNERSHIP, l o v e meant.
Lips dart across stomach, blowing a teasing raspberry to lower abdomen / reaffirmation that he’d be alright, he always was. A corner of his lips tug up into a small smirk, another lingering kiss by her ribs. “Now go back to sleep, will ya ??”
Hands are clenched tightly in his lap —— slick with sweat as thumbs nervously twirl. A visit in Paris —— he knew how IMPORTANT it would be to Anya, how much she desperately needed them even if she left with h i m . Dmitry is ever unsure where he stands, especially after the last time. Getting hit by his now fiance’s grandmother was hardly something he could forget.
Eyes finally dare to meet Olga’s, a smile tugging up the corners of his mouth ( too wide, too awkward ). “I gotta say, it’s nice to be back. I mean, it’s uh — as NICE as ever here.” Compliments always worked … right ?? @firstborngrandduchess // sc.
By this point, Anya had been going on &&on for a solid h o u r ( && that was being generous, considering Dmitry had long ago lost track of time ). The way guilt rings its hands ‘round his neck reaffirms that whatever it was, Dmitry was most certain guilty of it. But if asked ?? He couldn’t tell you what it was. Most nights were like this, one upset at the other for something ( usually very, very small, thankfully). So, there he is, pretending to listen as he instead studies that small wrinkle she gets on her forehead, the way her petite frame almost TOWERS over him whenever she’s so adamant about something. Always so passionate, so stubborn.
He loves her for it.
Dmitry smiles, which is bound to make her all the more indignant ; but it only spreads, melting chocolate hues —— cheeks rosy. He stands, prancing off his height as he saunters over to her, stopping a mere inch away. Large hands practically encompass her face as he cups her jaw, lips interrupting her mid - sentence. A firm kiss, short yet never lacking ardor, lingering till heart p o u n d s against ears.
PARIS —— they have met again. The pair took a quick trip back ( to visit the Dowager herself of course). Dmitry knew the gravity to Anya’s c h o i c e ; it meant not seeing her FAMILY, being with him —— a nomad with nowhere to go. These times were cherished, && while he never expected to fit in with royals, Anya calmed him, his OPTIMISM in a world that did not call for it.
A PROUD smirk dawns on his features, russet gaze turning from the glimmering Eiffel Tower to those Romanov eyes. Dmitry’s arm wraps around her small frame, pulling her against his side ( such warmth, a mere grazing touch still making him nervous ).
“No. You && me ?? We turned out okay.” A teasing mutter, a kiss melting against the top of her forehead.
