A RUSSIAN RAT IS CLEVER.

‘  oh,  i  —-  ’  she bites her bottom lip,  looks down and fiddles fingers.  ‘  i maybe didn’t think that far…  it was a long shot  &  i wasn’t sure you’d agree.  ’  and then sheepishly smiles back up at him,  makes a show of batting her lashes at him  —-  all in good fun,  of course  !  ‘  i thought maybe  you  could tell him.  ’

‘  you  ——–  ’  it catches her by  surprise,  that’s for sure.  she wants nothing more than to hold him,  to promise she won’t ever leave him again,  that she’ll  stay  if he’ll have her.  she crosses her arms around herself,  holds herself.  

it takes her a moment,  then two,  to put any words together, before a soft spoken  ‘  i’m sorry.  ’

❛ i don’t --. ❜

he starts, unsure. his CONFIDENCE, cocky disposition completely melted away. he has so many questions. wants to know how she got by, if she was okay. 

          ❝   PERHAPS IT’S BECAUSE WE’VE SEEN SO MANY     photographs of this place.   ❞     She’s simply attempting to make sense of something that seems to lack a reasonable explanation, but to no avail ;    Anya knew the words were not true as they left her lips.     She is no stranger to the feeling of deja vu and what appears to be flashbacks, but this is different.     This time, the feeling of dread   &   grief isn’t evoked.

‘  yeah,  i’m just gonna call you a pickle thief.  ’  his laughing at her irritates her.  ‘  well,  you know,  i got to have the  truffle mac & cheese  and you just got a pickle,  so i think  i’m  the winner here.  ’  she turns around,  ready to leave  &  never see this  stupid  boy again when he speaks.

‘  do i  look  like a janitor  ???  ’  

eyes glance at the girl next to him ; he can’t shake the feeling of deja vu, but that’s nonsense. he’s never been to paris ; has never left russia in the first place.

it’s late at night,  and she’s  still  at the office.  it’s probably too late to be having coffee,  but she needs to stay awake,  because her boss will kill her otherwise.  dunya was asleep and anya  finally  had a chance to walk around.

it’s then that she sees him  ——–  he’d probably stick out like a sore thumb,  how tall  &  lanky he was.  ‘  hey  !  ’  it’s shouted as she jogs to catch up to him,  pulling some money out of her pocket.

‘  you’re the pickle thief,  right  ?  here’s your stupid interest.  ’  //  @arussianrat

❛ dmitry. and that pickle was delicious. ❜

he chuckles, taking the money from her -- with interest, in liquidity form, as requested. he’s a little too happy about the cash he’s getting back. he’d just happened to be at the right place at the right time - something he happily used to his advantage.

‘  well,  no.  ’  there’s a sheepish smile,  hands wring around her wrist.  ‘  i mean,  the idea  just  came to me so i didn’t have  time  to ask vlad yet.  ’  she rolls her tongue in between her teeth,  brows scrunched.  ‘  we could tell him  together.  if he’s a low ranking count,  fake or  not,  he should be able to teach me enough.  at the very least,  we’ll get out of  here.  ’

PLEASE,  she thinks.  please give me one more chance.  she doesn’t deserve it,  she knows and she knows she doesn’t deserve him still standing in front of her,  actually listening to her.  her bottom lip quivers,  when he agrees.  she doesn’t think about the fact that it doesn’t sound  /  feel real,  that it sounds like he’s  resigning.  it’s small steps,  little things at a time.

‘  really  ?  ’  she can’t help the smallest bit of hope that escapes her tone,  the way blue eyes light up.  if only for a moment  ——–  with no one to comfort her,  all alone,  such things are  rare occasions.  there are more dark nights than there are happy days.  ‘  i just  ——–  i really am  sorry.  you’re….  you’re the first person i’ve ever loved.  ’  she doesn’t say that he’s the  only  person she’ll ever love,  because she knows this is awkward for him.  it’s upsetting  &  he’s not happy with her. 

‘  i just…  time kept passing by.  and you were….  scratch that,  you are  amazing,  but you were stuck with some amnesiac who still was only hanging to these random little bits of who she  could  have been.  ’  and then she takes a breath,  screws her eyes shut.  ‘  i was  holding you back,  i think.  it was  hell  for me to leave,  but i thought it would’ve been better for you if i did than leave you  miserable  with me.  ’

he looks at her, eyes lit up with HOPE, and he’s reminded of why he fell in love with her in the first place. hates himself for how easily he let her back in, how easily he’ll let her break his heart all over again. vlad had been right in the first place; that anya would BREAK his heart. in hindsight, he knew it’d happen. after all, how could he not fall in love with such an enigma of a girl? 

LOVED. she’d loved him; past tense. most likely, realized she was better & deserved better than a poor alley boy could ever give her. she deserved someone as radient as she was.  or maybe it was him ; maybe he just hadn’t been enough for her.  either way, he’s almost certain that’s why she’s back -- that she’s met someone, wants to tell him to move on - that she’s gone forever, and that she’s not coming back.

❛ you didn’t have to come all this way just to -  ❜

blinks in confusion -- she thought she was holding him back? all this time he’d thought he was holding her back. it’d all been a simple misunderstanding - one that communicating could’ve solved a lot of heartbreak. they have a lot of work to do, but he’s willing to do it if she is. 

‘  it’s ten million rubles,  dima.  ’  the money isn’t the main reason  (  or any part of the reason  )  that she wants to do this,  but it’s definitely….  tempting.  ‘  besides,  you never know.  ’  she doesn’t think she  is  the grand duchess,  after all.  even if memories don’t line up  &  things are  confusing  a lot of the time for her.  

‘  even if i’m  not  her,  i could find…  a clue or something,  some hints about who i might’ve been.  i’m  sure.  ’

TEN MILLION RUBLES could buy a lot of things. anya was right; even if she wasn’t the grand duchess ( and in all honesty, dmitry highly doubted that his best friend was her ) it could lead to her finding out who she was. and that was really, all he wanted for her -- for her to find whatever was waiting for her in paris, to find her identity & most of all, her happiness. 

‘  you’re mad at me.  ’  the realization makes a bit of her heart  crumble,  makes her feel so small that she has to wrap her arms around herself,  bury nails into her elbows.  she wasn’t sure,  really,  how she’d expected seeing him to go.  maybe it was a mistake.  maybe she shouldn’t have come back.  maybe she shouldn’t have ever left in the first place.

‘  i  ——–  ’  she wants to say she’s  missed  him,  because it’s the truth.  she doesn’t know how  welcome  that will be.  ‘  i don’t know.  ‘  and she can’t bring herself to look at him anymore,  or else the walls she’d built up will come crumbling down so quickly.  ‘  i’m sorry…  i know that doesn’t fix anything.  i just wanted to say i’m  sorry.  ’

and he’s  everything  to her.  maybe that’s why she had to go  ?  because he meant so much to her  &  losing him would have hurt and she didn’t know who she was without him.  but she can’t say anything,  because he’s  angry  with her and he has every right to be.  ‘  you don’t owe me anything,  i  fucked up,  but….  can we talk  ?  can you give me a chance to….  to  try  and explain myself  ?  ’

he’s not mad at her; the anger had subsided long ago and had given way to heartbreak & worry instead - was she taking care of herself, was she okay, was she alone, was there someone to talk her through every nightmare, what was the last straw that drove her away. he’d come to the realization that anya must’ve realized that she deserved better than what dmitry had to offer her. she was royalty, after all. whether she claimed the title or otherwise. 

whateverTHIS is, whatever she’s here to do, he’s not sure he wants to hear it. haven’t you done enough? he’s got a million questions for her - why she left, when she started talking to vlad. on the other hand, knows that if he stays, there’s a chance of her breaking his heart all over again. his curiosity gets the better of him, though -  wants to hear her apology; wants to know why she left - even if it is confirmation that she realized she deserved BETTER. 

❛ i -  ❜

he knows he doesn’t owe her anything; not anymore, at least. but he still can’t bring it to him to deny her request. even after all this time, he’d still do anything she asked of him. glances down at his own hands, sighing - 

one year.  it’s been one year since she left him,  packed up  &  taken everything,  with just a note that said  i’m sorry i had to go,  i love you.  it was the hardest thing she’d ever had to do,  but it’s what was right,  at that time.  (  don’t tell anyone,  but maybe it wasn’t ever right.  )  it’s been so long since she’d stepped foot in paris,  having gone to south france.  

she’s been waiting here,  at the bridge for a while.  the bridge where,  a little over a year ago,  she’d kissed him and he’d smiled into her mouth and embraced her.  she’d written to vlad two months ago  ——-  asking for dima to meet her at the bridge.  she’d asked him to not tell dima it was  her,  or else he might not come.  she doesn’t even know what vlad did with it…  doesn’t know if he’d tossed it the moment he saw it was from one  anya petrova,  petrova being the name of the nurse who’d cared for her for so long.  

she stands,  leans on the railing and plays with her hair  ——–  wonders if dmitry would recognize her after a year  ?  after the weight she’s gained,  after the lack of hollowness in her cheeks  &  the new found shortness of her hair  &  change in its color,  from a strawberry blonde to a brown tone.  a need to  blend in  and not appear suspicious.

she jumps a little,  when she hears an intake of breath from behind her,  while she’s staring at the ocean,  and she sees  him.  there’s a desire to go running into his arms,  to hold him  &  never let go  and tell him she loves him and only him.  instead,  she finds her feet frozen,  eyes wide  &  lips slightly parted.

‘  dima  ——–  ’  it slips out,  she’s not sure she’s allowed to  call  him that anymore.  she wants to take a step towards him,  but it’s as if she’s lost all ability to move.  ‘  i  ——–  i wasn’t sure you’d come.  i wasn’t sure  vlad  would tell you.  ’

@arussianrat  /  inspired by  this  !

after anya had met him on the bridge, he had gotten used to staying up, or waking up in the middle of the night to check in on anya; making sure she wasn’t in the middle of a nightmare, or that she was just still there. it’d been a year since anya had left, and well, old habits die hard. maybe, it was the fact that vlad had ( oddly enough ) asked dmitry to meet him on that very same bridge today, or maybe it was just the MISSING that had kept him up all night -- woke him up in the middle of the night to reach for someone who was no longer there; someone who had walked away from him like he had meant nothing to her, with just a simple note I’M SORRY. I HAD TO GO. I LOVE YOU. 

the words echo in his mind as he makes his way over to the bridge, wondering why vlad had him meet here today - he’d spend most of his time trying to avoid this bridge; trying to avoid all the places that reminded him of anya. had thrown himself into occupying his mind with any distraction. surely, vlad knew what today was, of all days. just because dmitry had declared a ban on all things anya - had asked vlad not to mention the strawberry blonde girl ever again, didn’t mean that either of them were likely to forget when their trio became a duo once again.

there’s a girl, on the bridge, that his eyes immediately gravitate to - one of similar stature as his anya ( he still hadn’t learned not to think of her as his anymore ), but different - a girl of brown hair - it couldn’t be her. and yet, he can’t help himself from walking over - just to see the similarities - he’d had his fair share of flings after anya, trying to find someone who could replace the girl in his heart - who could stop the pain - and maybe this girl could. readies himself to charm her, when she turns.

❛ dmitry. ❜

he corrects her, regretting it instantly - the sound of his name on her lips is easily one of his favourites. but she’d long lost the right to call him dima. not after she’d walked away and never reached out. so this was all vlad’s doing. he should’ve known, from vlad’s recent secretiveness - how long had the two of them been in contact? how long had vlad KNOWN that anya was safe, and how she was doing - and had kept it from him? knows he can’t blame vlad; that it was probably for the best that he’d kept it all a secret. 

arussianrat.

he looks at her with an  intensity  that makes something flutter inside of her.  it’s a passing moment,  and she’s able to calm herself quite fast.  still,  she waits for his response,  taps fingers against the wood if her chair.  she thinks for a second,  gets this far - away look in her eyes,  and chews at her bottom lip.

‘  we already do illegal stuff anyways,  don’t we  ?  ’  but this is different.  this is different than stealing bread so that they don’t starve to death,  different than their activities at the black market.  because  anastasia  was killed by the bolsheviks,  because this was putting their heads on a platter or in front of a  firing squad.

‘  we wouldn’t try anything up until we’d get to  paris.  you know that  ——–  ’  anything else could make her lose him,  and he’s the only thing she has,  for the past eight years.  no matter what,  she would  not  lose him.  ‘  yeah,  it’s risky,  but aren’t we  always  ?  some stuff could work in our  favor,  you know…  ’  like the fact that she was found with no name  &  memory but the one given to her,  like the fact that she’d a small bag of diamonds kept secret,  that no one  (  not even her dima  )  had known about,  scars on her palms and on her rib cage that no one but her  &  those nurses had seen.  

‘  i’m a  blank slate,  dima.  ’  it  hurts  to say that,  but it’s also the  truth.  ‘  vlad could teach me some stuff  &  we could make our way to paris  ———-  you know i’ve always wanted to go there.  i’ve always  needed  to go there.  ’  he knows of the dreams,  of fire  &  an elderly woman with no face whispering about how they will reunite in the city of  lights.  ‘  we wouldn’t tell anyone,  it’d just be the three of us…  you,  me  &  vlad.  we wouldn’t even have to go through the whole thing,  but it’ll get us  out  of russia.  what do you say  ?  you  trust  me,  don’t  you  ?  ’

she has a point - but their illegal activities have always been or a matter of SURVIVAL. this is different. this would be putting all of them in immediate danger; her especially. finding a way to paris will be a step up from what they’ve done in a long time. 

in all honesty, if this plan involved putting anyone else at risk, he’d be all for it. it’s GENIUS really - using the fact that she knows nothing about herself to teach her everything; from mannerisms to stories about the romanovs. vlad’s past would surely tell them everything they needed to know.  it’d be e a s y; anya’s a fast learner, and a decent actress too, if her involvement in past schemes is an indication. 

❛ of course i trust you - i just ❜

he can’t say no to her; has tried for years to learn how to say no to the girl in front of him. he knows that she needs this - that she needs to find a way to paris & has been hoping to for the last decade. he had promised himself long ago that he’d do whatever it takes to help her get to paris, even if it meant losing her in return.

‘  hey,  dima ——–  ’   she holds a flyer in her hand.  and she almost laughs,  thinking about what vlad had said earlier.  you look an awful lot like the princess anastasia.  looks at her  best friend  of almost a decade now and oh,  how rumors spread.  there were now whispers on the street about the  survival  of a daughter.  rumors that had reached  france  with the former grand dowager empress,  for now a  reward.

‘  what vlad said  ——–  you think i could be her  ?  ’  and then she pauses.  ‘  i mean…  she’s  dead,  obviously.  they  wouldn’t have let her live.  ’  them  being the bolsheviks.  ‘  but what vlad said…  about me  looking  a little bit like her.  ’  fingers tap nervously against the wall.  ‘  do you think i could pass for her  ?  enough that we’d somehow…  be able to get out of here  &  get to  paris  and try and convince the old woman  ?  ‘  she then leans forward,  chin in hand.  ‘  you think i could  play  the part  ?  ’

@arussianrat  /  plotted

he can still remember the first day they’d met -- he’d barely given her a second glance back then, didn’t think much of the strawberry blonde girl that he’d eventually taken under his wing - or maybe, it’d been the other way around. whatever it was, she’d found a way into his life, nestled a permanent spot in his heart. anya was the only person who wasn’t blood related that he’d ever allow to call him dima. 

scoffs at the possibility before he even has a chance to glance at the flyer. his anya, his best friend, the orphan, his sidekick, for the last decade - a princess? there was absolutely no way that anya could ever be the same girl he’d seen at the parade all those years ago.  vlad’s known for his charm (or lack thereof) - surely, this was just another one of vlad’s comments ... right? 

what comes next out of anya’s mouth causes him to do a double take. the scheme isn’t necessarily unlike anya, although something of this caliber was usually orchestrated or at the very least, implemented by vlad and himself. anya was usually their voice of reason, usually told them when it was too much. it must’ve been some resemblance for anya to suggest this. 

he takes the flyer from anya’s hands, and holds it up next to her face. eyebrows furrow, as if playing an extremely intense version of spot the difference. oddly enough, vlad’s right for once -- the similarity between his anya, and the drawing in front of him is shockingly identical. between their connections (mostly vlad’s) and their knowledge (also mostly vlad’s) - and her looks, he’s almost certain they could pull this off without a hitch. but the bulk of their plan lies on anya. if anything went wrong, she’d be the one at stake. it’d be her life in danger. 

if it’d been his life, that’d been fine. over the years, he’s come to care for and love anya -- they’re all each other have. she’s family. he’d die before he let anything happen to her. but there’s no telling what the consequences would be this time, or if he could do anything to help. 

i h8 u