Angels (Pavel Chekov)

30 - Enya

"Will you be upset if I sleep in my own room tonight?"

Pavel looks up, his head starting to swim with questions.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No, Pavel, you didn't. I'm just a little spaced out. I've been overthinking and it might be good for us to spend a night apart. I'll come over in the morning, I just want time to clear my head. It's nothing you've done."

"Sure," he says, trying hard not to let uncertainty seep into his voice. "I'll be there if you need me. You'll let me walk you back first, da?"

She nods, taking his hand and swinging it as they walk. He wonders if she's alright, if her argument about Sydel is on her mind or if it's something to do with her swearing.

They arrive outside her door and he places a soft kiss on her lips. He swears he could kiss her all night but just gives her one more quick peck before letting her go inside.

"Sleep well," he smiles, hoping she feels a little better in the morning.

"Goodnight, Pasha," she grins, blowing him a kiss. He catches it, watching as she smiles and disappears into her room.

Vienna does seem a little more clear headed in the morning. She's already in the room trying to wake Pavel before he's even up. He starts mumbling and trying to go back to sleep. She kisses the top of his head and reads beside him while he dozes off.

"You really are a different person in the morning, you know that, yeah?"

"Mmm," he grunts back, his tone sounding reasonably uninterested.

"Ready to get up?"

"Lay with me," he says, turning to face her. "Just stay with me, Enya."

"Enya...?"

"Ivan becomes Vanya, Nadezhda becomes Nadya. Maybe for Vienna I can use Enya? Do you like it?"

"My dad calls me Vinnie as a nickname. I like Enya though. Are you going to start calling me that?"

"Mhmm," he mumbles, patting the space next to him. She lies down and he spoons her, holding her tightly. He wraps an arm around her waist and smiles to himself, glad she's there with him again. He switches to Russian and tells her that he loves her and she turns to face him.

"Я тоже тебя люблю," she says breaking out into a huge grin.

He sits up and his mouth opens a little in shock, trying to figure out if he's still dreaming or not. "Wait, I'm awake, right? Did you just?"

"Da, Pasha," she smiles. "I love you too."

"Vienna," he whispers, feeling his whole body go warm. He starts smiling and he pulls his lips to hers. He swears she's never tasted so good and she cuddles up close to him. He kisses her for a long while, not wanting to be doing anything else. He wishes he could show this moment to every former version of himself, to prove that things get better.

"I had a vague hunch when I'd hear you mumbling. I looked up the Russian and just waited to see if I heard it again. I also taught myself the response in case I was right. Turns out I was."

"I've been saying it to you for a while now," he admits, "I just thought I'd need longer to gain the courage to say it in English. I'm so glad that you... That..." He finds himself blushing and can barely finish the sentence, smiling too much. "I... I love you Vienna. I'm sorry it took this long to say it."

"Better late than never, Pasha," she says, kissing him on the lips.

He feels more alive than ever and they get out of bed, Pavel taking the opportunity to squeeze her and pick her up. She breaks into giggles and he throws her over his shoulder, carrying her into the kitchen.

"You're mine now," he jokes, putting her down on the bench. "I love you," he says again, wanting to tell her a million times more.

"I love you," she tells him putting her hands on his cheeks.

He makes a start on his porridge and hums to himself. He has his journal on his mind and all the things he wants to add to it. He thinks about the page he wrote with only five words and how glad he'll be ripping the whole page out.

She'll never love you

He can't wait to remove the page and never see it again.

As Pavel's finishing his porridge he asks what her family is doing today and if she'll be joining them. She shakes her head, yawning before giving a response.

"They're heading back today. I'll be going over there tomorrow afternoon."

"Oh," Pavel says softly, remembering that she said earlier that she'd be spending the second half of their mid-semester break back in Delaware with her family. His heart sink a little realising he'll have a week to kill by himself while she's away. "I'll miss you," he says, "I'll miss you a lot. It'll probably be nice for you being back home, I remember when you were telling me about being homesick."

"Do you ever get homesick, Pasha?"

"Not often. Sometimes there's things about Russia that I miss. I miss my language and my culture sometimes, but I came to America for a fresh start. I was trying to run away from a lot of things there."

"Maybe you should ask your brother to come visit you while I'm away," she smiles, watching in amusement as Pavel rolls his eyes at the mention of his brother. He shakes his head silently and thinks about his last few arguments with his brother.

"We should stay in today," Pavel finally mutters, wanting to move the conversation away from his brother.

"We have plans," she says, taking a seat beside him and putting her shoes on. He gives her a confused look and she continues. "A few days ago we said we'd go see someone about your mental health. I almost forgot but it's still very important that we take care of this."

"I'm fine though," he mutters, an unease setting in about having to face his problems head on.

"You're fine at the moment," she corrects. "We both know how you can be after a bad night. How you can be when Damien gets involved... It would probably help regulate your mood as well. This is a preventative thing, Pavel. I don't want you turning to self-harm as an emotional outlet."

He looks up at her, a little unsure what to say. He just nods, he knows he wants the same thing. He knows she has a point. She finishes getting her shoe on and stands up, adjusting her skirt.

"You ready to go?"

He looks at her, a spoon still in his mouth and an eyebrow raised. She kisses the top of his head and puts his bowl in the sink, telling him to get a move on.