Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
It was distracting, having Tangerine's knuckles graze the top of her thigh back and forth underneath the table. His rings would brush the hem of her dress before dipping back down and repeating the motion a hundred times. He'd gone from resting his hand on her to that torturous action sometime between mocking Thomas the Tank Engine and answering Vasili's questions about where the current and not animated train was headed.
And it was because she was so distracted that she missed the looks her brother had been sending her more frequently as they came closer and closer to the next stop, desperately wanting to get off when they got there.
But the infuriating man that was Tangerine had Kliment pathetically wrapped around his fingers on her skin without even knowing he was doing it. In fact, he hadn't really realized he was still making contact with her until he reached into his jacket to retrieve something from his blazer pocket, the calming touch — calming to him, at least — almost feeling like second nature. He nearly hesitated when he noticed the lack of warmth he was feeling.
At least Kliment managed to snap out of the docile trance he'd accidentally pulled her into. As soon as she met Vasili's blue eyes that he got from their father, he was moving to stand.
"Hey, listen, we're just gonna get off at the next stop," he declared as Tangerine dropped a set of brass knuckles on the table followed by his phone.
But Lemon easily pushed him back into the seat. "Oh, let's, uh, have a seat, then, huh?"
Tangerine looked at Vasili pointedly. "Do you know what they call your papushka?"
"Course I fucking do," he muttered, already so tired of the two men,
"The White Death," Lemon said as if they needed to be told. "Not exactly a fruit."
"No. There you go," Tangerine said. Klim narrowed her eyes as he pulled a few pieces of black plastic strips from his inner blazer pocket. She didn't know what he needed them for. "There's a story — stop me if you've heard it—"
"We probably fucking know it," Kliment interrupted, crossing her arms.
Tangerine raised a pointed eyebrow, resisting the urge to snap at her. "There's a story where this woman found herself in the unfortunate position of owing your father a tidy sum of money. Now, the issue was it took her some time to acquire this money. But she did pay it back five minutes late, didn't she?"
"Yeah, what'd he do?" Lemon asked, the only one not familiar with the story.
"Cut her arm off," Vasili informed him, hardly bothered by it all.
"Fuckin' hell!"
"Yeah. He said she owed him a finger for every minute," Tangerine explained.
Kliment had to stifle a laugh as Lemon covered his mouth and let out an, "Oh."
