Asya rolled over and nuzzled her face against the softness of her pillow. She was nestled deep beneath warm sheets, a duvet and a heavy wool blanket to ward off the chilly morning air, lazily soaking up the comforts of her bed. Owing to her usually busy schedule, she didn't sleep in often, but this bed and its assortment of pillows and bedding that cushioned in all the right places, this bed was worth making an exception for.
She started dozing off again, dismissing the gentle poking on her shoulder as the start of some vivid dream. But then she heard her name being whispered, foggy and faraway. She lugged open one eye, blinking away sleep to bring her surroundings into focus.
There was a face at the side of her bed. A face, and two big round eyes staring back at her over the edge of the mattress.
'I think she's awake.' Tanya whispered to something on the floor beside her, getting a feline chirp in response. The little girl held a finger up to her lips, silencing the cat, before looking back to her. 'It's snowing, Asya.'
The young ballerina's features relaxed into a sleepy smile as she sat herself up onto her elbows. She glanced over her shoulder to the tall windows whose curtains she'd intentionally left open the night before. It was because there had been stars in the sky, no city smog or orange hues, but stars. If she hadn't been so thoroughly exhausted she'd probably have stayed awake to admire them longer, but between her offensively comfortable bed and the prickly countryside quiet, she'd fallen asleep within minutes.
Come morning, the view from the second floor of the manor was still absolutely mesmerising. The sky was a dreamy shade of candyfloss pink and the rolling lawns beneath the window were flecked with powder white snow, a lower one of which walked onto a glassy lake. Its banks were shrouded by birch trees, the surface of the water drenched in a milky morning fog.
She glanced back at Tanya, still standing at the side of her bed in a matching Grinch-themed pyjama set. The fat tabby cat she'd seen the day before was sitting patiently at her side, also looking up at her as if it were awaiting instructions. It hadn't taken her long the night before to figure out that Tanya was following her around like a lost puppy, slipping her shy little smiles whenever they made eye-contact. She didn't know much about kids, but this one was well on her way to stealing her heart.
'Alright, up you get.' she grinned, patting the duvet beside her. 'It's freezing in here.'
Tanya broke into a grin and clambered onto the bed, crawling underneath the warm covers. The cat hopped on as well, letting out a purry grunt before it curled up at their feet.
'Everyone's asleep.' Tanya explained from beside her. 'Puts and I came to sit with you.'
'That's Puts?' she asked, gesturing to the cat. The same tabby, one that had a split personality by the looks of things, that nearly went feral with Roman the day before.
Tanya nodded, and went silent for a moment before she looked up at her with those striking blue eyes of hers. Icy and vibrant, framed by long dark lashes. The resemblance she had to her brother was honestly a little uncanny.
'Asya,' the little girl asked, 'Are you really a ballerina?'
She smiled. 'Yep. When I was a little older than you, my mother sent me to England so I could train professionally.'
'Does it hurt?'
'Well, sometimes.' she answered reluctantly, unsure how to work around a question like that. She didn't want to ruin the beauty of ballet for an optimistic seven-year-old, not even when she was sat there with a dwindling body weight and two hopelessly impinged hips.
'Does Romy get hurt?' Tanya asked softly.
Asya hadn't even let the adorably innocent nickname his little sister had for him sink in before her heart coiled into a knot inside her chest. And for the second time since arriving there, she was reminded that while she and the rest of the world knew him as a scandal-tainted prodigy, he had a sister who had no idea that he'd been taking drugs for most of his career, or had been rumoured to work inhumanly hard behind the scenes to keep up with his reputation.
She did know that in that moment, she would have said nearly anything to wipe the unguarded concern off Tanya's face. 'We're used to it, so it doesn't hurt so bad.'
The little girl's expression eased slightly.
'Come on.' she announced, swinging her legs out from under the duvet. 'Let me get ready and I'll show you.'
With Tanya in tow she made her way to the adjoining bathroom. The little girl sat herself in a chair in front of the windows, watching Asya like she was putting on the most captivating show of her life while she brushed her teeth. She smiled through her toothpaste at her, fastening her hair in a neat ponytail before she rinsed her mouth and washed her face.
She hadn't grown up with any siblings or friends to look up to, but she did remember going to boarding school and thinking that the older girls were the absolute shit. Because they danced on pointe, wore lip gloss and makeup and pretty clothes, gave out hugs to the boys, and did all these intricate turns and steps she was only beginning to understand. Back then a smile or a simple good luck from one of them could light her up like a Christmas tree.
So while she was fully aware that she knew little to nothing about kids, she did know what would have melted her eleven-year-old heart. She spritzed some perfume on her wrists, holding up the bottle in the mirror. 'Want some?'
Tanya hopped out of her chair and extended both her wrists, smiling like she'd offered her the sun.
・・・
Roman wasn't a morning person.
Not even in the loosest definition of the word. He'd spent the majority of his adult life on stage, and that, by necessity, meant late nights. At some point his body accepted that as it's natural rhythm, and ever since there was something about the light of day that made his insides wail.
Dragging himself out of bed that morning verged on tragic. He'd made it from one side of the bed to the other and fallen back asleep, woken up again, checked the time, and then fell asleep again. Had it not been for a commotion downstairs, he probably would have dozed off a third time and not thought twice about it.
He did eventually manage to shove himself under the shower, nearly with some of his clothes still on, and decided then and there that it better be a cold one. He got dressed and headed downstairs, following the sound of classical music and animated laughter to the ground floor living room.
He found Tanya holding onto the back of a chair while Asya sat cross-legged on the floor, correcting her développés. Thinking it would be rude to interrupt mid-exercise he stayed in the doorway, watching as the ballerina got up and demonstrated a slow développé devant. His sister attempted to copy the ballerina as best she could, and considering she'd never taken a ballet class in her life, wasn't faring half badly. Although, it did look like she was more preoccupied with her teacher than the actual exercise.
Asya tapped her hip and said something about keeping it tucked under her, asking over her shoulder if her student could see what she was doing.
'Is this what mandatory bedrest looks like to you?' he asked.
She flicked her stormy eyes to him but didn't lower the extension, just flashed him a grin over her hand as she took it to second position. 'I'll stop if it hurts.'
'No, you won't.' he retorted, turning around to head into the kitchen.
'Preryvaya korovu.' Tanya hissed after him. He knew he'd live to regret the day he started teaching her Russian.
He found his aunt at the breakfast table with her laptop and notebook out, already nursing her first cup of coffee. Randy might technically be a retired finance tycoon, but she never started the day without checking the markets. Habits, he supposed.
'Good morning sleepyhead.' she greeted over the rim of her glasses. 'Coffee's in the pot.'
He slipped her a grateful nod and fetched a mug, pouring himself a blessed cup of caffeine. Coffee was arguably the only thing that made his mornings tolerable.
'Did you see the Radzevich Ballet Class?' his aunt asked, closing her laptop.
He smiled. 'I got kicked out.'
'Couldn't keep your mouth shut?' she sassed. 'Figures.'
He leaned back against the counter and took a sip from his mug, diverting his attention back to the ongoing barre class in the living room. Asya was on the floor again, praising his sister endlessly with little claps and shoulder wiggles. It was the same ballerina, he realised, that was known for her competitive instincts and had nearly torn him to shreds in a pirouette combination for the fun of it. But this Asya was dressed in an oversized hoodie and a skimpy pair of bedshorts, content with teaching the most basic développé combination to an over-enthusiastic seven-year-old on her Christmas weekend.
'Tanya is going to be devastated when she goes back to London.' he said, never taking his eyes off the pair in the living room.
'All I'm hearing is, 'Yes, Randy, I'm going to come visit more.'
He chuckled but kept looking, noticing that between the young ballerina's shorts and socks, there was a fair amount of bare legs visible. Long, exquisitely shaped dancer legs, dented with deep muscles that reached from ankle to thigh and flexed underneath her translucent skin when she moved. When she stood up he could see that her legs were rotated from the knee and hips, a result of years worth of ballet training, and swayed back slightly. It was probably how she created those stunning lines of hers.
Distracted by her, he hadn't noticed his aunt next to him. He did however let out a surprised yelp when she elbowed him, raising her eyebrows suggestively.
'Don't start.' he mumbled.
'I wasn't going to. But now-'
As if by divine intervention itself, Tanya came trotting into the kitchen asking for breakfast. Eager for an escape from a conversation about what he was staring at, he scooped his sister up and swung her onto his back, letting her wrap her arms around his neck.
'Ladno, malenkaya zaychik, davay prigotovim tebe zavtrak.' he said, carrying her over to the fridge.
In the corner of his eye he could see that Asya had gotten cornered by Miranda. The young ballerina grinned at something his aunt said, crossing her legs as she leaned against the counter.
While he tried listening to what they were talking about he asked Tanya to list the food in the fridge to work on her vocabulary.
'-plans for today?' Randy asked, passing Asya a steaming cup of coffee.
'None that I know of.' she replied. 'He did say something about a walk.'
'Oh, he can shove it. I'm stealing you for photos first.'
Tanya stuttered over the word for butter, and he quickly corrected her before he went back to eavesdropping.
'Black?' Asya asked. 'I'll look, but off the top of my head I think I only brought some lingerie.'
'What's lingerie?' Tanya whispered to him over his shoulder. He ignored the question, and told her she mispronounced strawberries.
'Oh, that's going to look absolutely stunning.' his aunt announced. 'Roman, lend her one of your shirts, won't you? We're doing a spread.'
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Hi everyone! I'm sorry this chapter was a little shorter than usual (although I think it might just feel short because the last few have been super long😂). I'll make it up to you all in the next one. In the meantime, please accept this hot beverage and a big phat hug as my thank you for being here☕🖤