Rubbing her back in circular motions, he could hear her heavy breathing turn into light snoring.
After enjoying an over-the-top feast and spending a lot of well-needed family time with one another, it was getting to that time of the day where everyone was winding-down and relaxing. Lilia had taken less than a few minutes persuading to get her to take a mid-day nap, having used all of her energy up, she knocked out after a full glass of warm milk, and some cookies. A low grunt broke out as he leaned over to position the sleeping body down onto the couch, satisfied to see them side by side.
Together, at last.
Janessa had been the more difficult one this year, she had refused to get any rest, insisting that she was big enough to be with the adults all day. And that is exactly what she did. It was all very cute for the first hour. However, when the second and third, and eventually, forth hour struck, he feared that she would never leave him alone to sleep. It wasn't until they were watching their third crappy holiday movie together, that she gave up and let her drained body win.
He was sick of hearing the cheesy music and watching the cringe-worthy plots.
Romance was not something that appealed to Slater, he didn't care for any kind of public display of affection, to his annoyance, the festive films happened to be everything he hated and more.
This was usually Dasha's job, trying to put the girls to bed before they drove them to insanity. He thought to himself.
Christmas had been something he wished he could put a pause on this year, it didn't feel natural nor did he have any real emotion to give. Reaching over the coffee table, he picked up the homemade Nastoiki he was drinking, or in other words, flavoured vodka.
He was tired, so tired. It wasn't the type of tiredness that could be fixed with sleep, six months of pure havoc was resulting in him slowly spiralling out of control.
Drinking was helping him feel numb, he knew how to operate normally when he was drunk, he had abused the substance during his youth and into his early adulthood. The cigarettes were another major thing he knew she would be yelling at him for if she could see him.
She couldn't see him though, he tipped the edge of the glass back, swallowing the bitter contents inside in one swig.
Lowering it down onto the table again, he ran a hand through his messily kept hair, and then, dropped down onto the single sofa closest to him. Slater leaned back, his hazy eyes falling onto the two girls, he couldn't help but stare.
Lilia was looking more like her as time went by. She was the spitting image of the supermodel, same dimples, same hair colour, same striking eyes, the one thing she had gotten from her father was her temperament. It could come in hard at times; she had a lot to say, all of the time. On the other hand, Janessa was the perfect mix, she showed moments of her mother, as her infectious laugh. It was delicate, melodic, he could listen to her laugh over and over and never get bored of hearing it.
He needed to stop drinking, he told himself, closing his eyes shut.
It was going straight to his head, Slater let out a sigh, opening his jaw to try and remove the ache in his cheek.
Maybe, if he tried to get some rest, he would be able to function properly for the remainder of the day.
He didn't seem to get his longing to relax when the door handle started to make a sound. Twisting, turning, and then it was yanked open.
"M-Mr. Ivanov?" A small hiss as footsteps entered the dimly lit room, "I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could talk to you."
Unbearable stuttering made him keep his eyes closed, lips turning into a snarl when he heard a gasp.
"Crap, sorry. I didn't realise you were sleeping, ignore me." Rika's voice wavered slightly, before he could hear her feet patter against the floorboards, he huffed.
He had been wanting for her to come and find him, it was about time.
"You want to quit," the producer said quietly, though, still audible enough for her to pause in her tracks.
The girl had lasted surprisingly long. He was impressed by how long she had managed to stay for, he was positive he had scared her off.
Opening his bloodshot eyes, he took in the sight of her at the entrance of the room; she was nervous, he could tell by the way she had clasped her hands behind her back.
He saw her body stiffen and her voice was an octave higher than usual when she let out a squeaky, "What?"
Slater heaved himself out of the comfortable position, he brushed his hands over his trousers. Clearing his throat, he pointed towards the door. "We can discuss this outside Johnson, you'll be free to stutter as much as you want out there." He told her, ushering her out of the room.
Following suit, she tried not to let the dread cover her face.
She dawdled in the lengthy hallway, allowing her thoughts to overwhelm her mind. It didn't take him long to join her, leaving the door ajar and meeting her face on.
When his impressive figure towered over her own, he rose a brow. "Well? Let's hear it then."
'You want to quit' echoed her brain, Rika couldn't say she was prepared for his statement.
Had she made it so obvious that he was aware of her plan to resign?
He had seen her ears turn red before but he had never seen her entire face such a bright crimson. She opened her mouth, closing it instantly as she tried to find the right words to say, "I can't take the laptop," she settled with. "It's too much, you will have to return it."
That made him roll his eyes—her eyes were on his—neck straining from watching his careful scrutiny.
She noticed the glossiness overlooking his hazel orbs, standing a few inches away, she recognised the pungent smell.
"I don't return shit." He said in an obvious way, giving her a look of disgust for even suggesting such a thing. "Don't like it? Give it to your friend, better yet, throw it on the ground and destroy it. Do what you want with it, it's not mine."
"Fuck," he hissed, spotting the kitchen behind her, and started towards it. "It's fucking hot." Water. He needed water.
Rika frowned, tilting her head to see him barging past her, she steadied her pace, following after his drunken self. "But that's not what I meant—"
He cut her off, something she was growing accustomed to, and entered the kitchen. "I don't believe I ever asked you what you meant." Taking out a glass, he started to rummage through the cupboards, finding his choice of posion. "Just say you want to quit already, and be on your fucking way."
She didn't get close to him, choosing to stay behind the island in the middle.
"But of course, you can't even admit to that." He chuckled bitterly, muttering something she couldn't understand in his mother tongue. Pouring the alcohol into the glass, she screwed her face up, cringing inwardly.
There was a minute of dead silence before she managed to ask, "Are you okay?" Her eyes were barely able to focus on his.
She wanted to have this conversation with him, but he didn't seem to be in the right mental state to be talking to her.
Slater downed the drink, and let it fall into the sink noisily, causing a loud clinking to pierce through the air. "Why wouldn't I be okay?" He questioned, clearly confused by the random concern. "Don't tell me you're trying to get out of the conversation so easily, kotik."
Her black hair had been let out of its ponytail, he tried to resist the way her clothes seem to hug her curves.
Curves. He lowered his gaze down to her wide hips, and licked his dry lips.
She didn't know what to do with him, fearing the absolute worst. "Should I get Vera?" Her tone was full of apprehension, he didn't like that about her. She was too nice for her own good.
Everything about her was soft, and reeked of pure innocence. She didn't seem to have any parts of her that were utterly raw or damaged beyond repair.
He couldn't understand how she had suffered more or less the same struggles as he had, and yet, seemed so fragile.
Shaking his head, he brought himself back to his composed unreadable self. "Say you want to quit, and I'll find a new nanny tonight." The slurring of his words were so subtle, but she could tell it was there. "Fuck, I'm still thirsty." He tried to grab ahold of another glass from the drying rack, and that was when she decided enough was enough.
Taking a shaky breath in, she rounded the island at a slow speed, walking until she was placed right in front of him. "I don't."
She flinched at her own rocky tone, picking her head up to look directly into his eyes. "I don't want to quit." She mumbled, snatching the glass from his hands.
His drowsy eyes locked onto her pointed ones. "You're lying."
Rika pushed the bottle far away, and held out her small hand. "I'm not. I thought I wanted to quit, but then I realised I would miss the girls too much."
Peering down at her hand, he hesitated for a few seconds before taking it in his larger one. She glanced down at the lion head on the front of his hand, the corners of her eyes lifting upwards.
They didn't need to say anything else. She tugged his hand, turning around so that she was pulling him through the kitchen and towards the staircase. He needed to go to bed, and sleep it off, she didn't want the kids to wake up to find their father in his current state of intoxication.
The idea of quitting didn't seem to be on the forefront of her mind anymore, all that mattered was getting him to his room.
Dragging his entire deadweight behind her, his wandering eyes flickered down to her shapely ass. Full, firm, it bounced with every step she took. Travelling further down her waist, over her back, and onto the pert, round curve of her ass.
"You'd miss the girls." He echoed her previous words, nodding his head as if to understand better. "I guess that makes sense."