Blindsided

Help, I'm Alive

Song of the chapter is Help I'm Alive by Metric. I want to thank Dotemms and the folks on Twitter for talking me down and especially Dotemms for continuing to support me while I write and giving me feedback. She's more than just a beta, she's one of my best friends and deserves far more credit for Blindsided than I do!

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  It had been the height of stupid to push Sarv away like that, Ruv reflected as he chopped vegetables for solyanka. The cloister was quiet for once, Sarv having taken the kids outside to hang the washing and help with chores, and he was able to process things a bit without the interruption of parenting. Part of which was mediating the ongoing sibling rivalry his future-children seems intent on waging.

  He hadn't figured out his headspace despite a week of avoiding Sarv and the emotions that would surface when he saw her. He began noticing little things about her, stuff he'd either ignored before or found annoying becoming cute or even beautiful: the way she'd kick her feet as she sat on the countertop and talked, the way she'd snort if she was laughing too hard, the way she worried her lip if she was thinking or nervous, the way she sang wherever she went. At night he'd wake suddenly from dreams of her smiling at him in the way she only would for him, and then watch her sleep until he felt his eye droop and he'd pass back out. He sometimes thought he saw her looking at him, studying him with an intensity he'd never seen from her before.

 He paused his knife and buried his head in his hands, tugging at his hairline under his ushanka. When did their lives get so messy?

  "That was a shit thing to do to mom."

  Ruv jumped. Selever leaned in the doorway, face grim and hands in his pockets. He sneered at the kid.

  "What would you know about it, you little hobgoblin? What are you, five?"

  "I'm thirteen ," he gritted out. "Technically a teenager."

  The boy straightened. "I know you're emotionally stunted but could you at least try not to make mom cry, you asshole?"

  "It's none of your business," Ruv replied, going back to the chopping board and cutting carrots with maybe a little more force than absolutely necessary. Selever scoffed.

  "I'd say it is my fucking business. Ras and I are already on thin ice being here. You think I'm blind? You ignored her for a week and she still fucking forgave you! One of these days she won't, and then where would I be? Where would Ras be? I really don't feel like going back home only to not exist because you can't figure out how to NOT be a complete emotional midget for five minutes."

  He jabbed a finger at his father, and Ruv actually felt the disgust in his voice when he spoke. "Fucking sort out your priorities and figure out your shit, Dad ," he snarled.

  "You got balls speaking to me like that kid," Ruv growled, planting the tip of the butcher knife into the cutting board. Selever rolled his eyes.

  "Don't fuck this up for us. Или я покажу, где раки зимуют, батюшка."

  "Are you seriously threatening me," Ruv said in angered disbelief. Sel crossed his arms and squared his shoulders.

  "It's a fucking promise ." He stormed out.

  Ruv stood there, unsure whether to go after him and tan his hide or be impressed. After a minute, he sighed and covered his face with his free hand.

  "Cука."

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  Ruv noticed Selever giving him dirty looks throughout the day: in the garden while he pulled onions, in the kitchen while he stirred the solyanka, in the library when he was reshelving books. The little shit was persistent.