A LOVE OF SOME KIND.

leave   the   burning   accidents   to   hurt   the   world   behind,   don't   settle   there   and   crystallize   them   in  your  mind.      there's   clarity   in   space   with   stars   to   guide   you   through,   they'll   protect   the   key   that   i   left   out   for   you...      it's   not   easy   for   two   to   love.      lead  the  way  for  both of us,  show  you  all  the  strength  you  need,  “  devote   your  life  to   what   you   want,  and  you  are  destined  to  succeed.  “.      think   about   me  when   you   find   what   you   have   been   looking   for;  remember  it's  a  game  that'll  always  leave  you  wanting  more.      it’s   not   easy   to   let   you   go   into   the   night,   it’s   not   easy   to   let   you   go   without   a   fight.

                         IND.  PRIV.  SELECTIVE.   TMFU  OC.     

what almost kiss scenes??? illya was just checking her breath bro???

          ‘   i  was  not  expecting  you  home  so  soon.      i  got  bored  while  you  were  gone,  decided  to  go  back  to  blonde.      what  do  you  think?   ‘      well,  truthfully,  between  anna  telling  her  she  suited  blonde  better,  and  the  upkeep  of  dying  her  hair  brown  constantly,  it  was  just  easier  to  go  back  to  blonde.      but  boredom  wasn’t  exactly  false.

It’s strange to lie there and think about a wedding they might have. He had never imagined getting married as a child. His parents had never been unhappy in their relationship but they weren’t the type to show open affection. He remembers only a single time his father had kissed his mother in public, on the cheek under the shade of a building as they waited for a car to pick them up. It was in retrospect, the only happy memory he had of them.

Joining the KGB had not left him much time to have a real relationship. He was surprised that Galina had stuck around for so long. Illya had expected her to leave by now, make the same excuse as previous women had; that he wasn’t there enough for them.

It didn’t really bother him, before. But now Illya lay there wondering what suit he would wear and what she would look like in her wedding dress. “Perhaps I can ask for some time off, I have not had a day off since starting.” He could never actually tell them what for but he could put in a request. 

“We cannot have proper wedding but we can have honeymoon.”

          ‘   i  do  think  you  have  earned  more  than  one  day  off.   ‘      her  tone  is  playful,  and  she  smiles  into  his  shirt,  enjoying  his  presence.      nothing  about  their  relationship  is  conventional,  she’s  always  known  that,  right  from  their  first  date.      but  it’s  worth  it,  to  her,  to  make  it  work.

          ‘  i  have  never  thought  about  a  honeymoon.      i  think  the  main  point  of  them  is  to  go  somewhere  warm  and  spend  your  time  doing  many  scandalous  activities.      though  it  would  be  nice  to  have  you  to  myself  for  a  while.   ‘       it’s  a  careful  admission,  not  wanting  to  pressure,  knowing  there’s  a  limit  to  how  much  he  can  be  given,  to  how  much  she  can  take.

He will never tire of her saying she loves him. The words make the an ache inside him settle. He wants to hear the words every day, wants to drink in her love and devotion like a starving man. He’s never been given a lot of attention and now he has her he finds himself starved for it. His lips brush her forehead in what he hopes is a tender kiss before he pulls back, eyes downcast. “I fear my love will not be enough for you. I don’t know how to be a proper husband, not like you deserve.”

Barbra makes sure to keep low, tucked away behind the wall as not to be seen. She doesn’t like that Galina is so out in the open but it’s not her that the men are after. “When I run you run okay?” She looks up at her friend as she pulls the gun from her bag slowly. She slips the silencer on, making sure to keep the weapon hidden from the public eye. “I don’t care what happens to me but you run and find somewhere crowded, lots of people okay?”

         she   hates   crying;    despises   it   even,    loathes   doing   it   in   front   of   people   she   doesn’t   know.   elle   draws   a   sharp   breath,   trying   to   regain   her   composure.    this   is   not   the   time   to   break,   she   knows.     ❛     nothing   happened,   it’s   just   stupid,   i’m   so   sorry.     ❜     she,   looking   down   to   notice   how   her   hands   tremble.   her   lies   could   not   convince   herself.     ❛      i'll   be   fine.     ❜

Illya doesn’t feel truly afraid a lot. His training had made sure of that. Fear was something that could get you killed. But at that moment he was just a little afraid of his wife. He turned, watching as Napoleon left the room with an apologetic look that Illya knew to be false. He was going to strangle the American the next chance he got.

He turns back to Galina with an expression that he hopes conveys how he feels; a mixture between scared and sorry. “It was for mission,” he says hoping it would be enough. And yet he knew it wouldn’t be.

Letting out a sigh Illya moves to sit on the bed, hands clasped in front of him. He absently plays with his own wedding band, the cool metal a comfort to him. “I wanted to tell you but things happened so fast and Cowboy,” he waves a hand towards the door that Napoleon had fled through. “Was idiot, I had forgotten about wife cover.”

          she’s  not  necessarily  angry  with  him,  not  really,  but  it  is  another  reminder  of  the  lack  of  control  she  has  over  her  own  life,  over  her  own  marriage,  another  reminder  her  life  is  more  acting  than  it  is  living.      she  struggles  to  find  the  words,  wants  to  try  and  explain,  but  knows  there’s  not  much  point,  there’s  nothing  she  can  really  do  about  it.

          ‘   well,  i  suppose  it  is  better  i  know  later  than  not  at  all.      who’s  playing  the  wife  then?   ‘      she  doesn’t  want  to  say  his  wife,  because  that’s  hers,  she  refuses  to  let  them  take  that.      roles  could  be  anything,  but  she  was  firm  that  she’d  never  let  herself  think  of  someone  else  as  his  wife.      it  is  stories,  she  tries  to  remind  herself,  stories  to  make  things  smoother,  grease  wheels,  allow  for  anonymity.      it  is  necessary,  on  some  level  or  another.

He follows her finger, blue eyes looking out over the crowd. It was a terrible habit, to be gossiping, but he couldn’t quite help himself. His head tilts to the side examining the man in questions. “I’ve seen better arms in female athletes,” Napoleon snorts, taking a sip from his own drink. “Perhaps it is what’s beneath the belt that counts.”

          she’s  appalled,  offended  even.      ‘   what  do  you  mean  nobody  can  pronounce  your  name?      it’s  not  that  hard.   ‘      she  shakes  her  head  at  that.      ‘  your  mother  had  good  taste,  i  think  americans  lack  that.   ‘

“ 𝙄  𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙣  –  𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚,  I’ve seen it but I don’t know, it’s  okay.  Cats and I don’t really —  get  along. ” 

❝    KEEP     THE     CHANGE     hardly  counts  as  a      tip ,   i’d  say  –––   not  when  the  change  is  eight  cents  anyways  …   ❞     but  the  amusement  is  so  evident  in  her  voice,  the  shrug  nonchalant .   ❝  i’d  lie  if  i  said  this  was  the  first  time  …     OR    that  i’m  surprised.   ❞