“I am upset” she admitted cooly, blue eyes filled with contained emotion. And she truly was upset, but at times it hard to differentiate whether she was upset about his passing or at him for all the shit his passing unleashed. But she wasn’t here to explain emotions to Nico that sometimes she couldn’t explain to herself. “With the righ vodka he didn’t speak much” Nat stated with a light scoff, the corners of her lips briefly tugging up for a moment, displaying the ghost of a smile. It was certainly a peculiar image to think about: a deadman and an undead one sharing good vodka. It was bitter to think about too, recalling the old days with Father, Nicolas and being in the motherland. She could almost picture them in her father’s study, sharing a drink by the fireplace that painted his red room with golden light. She still recalled well enough that she’d been allowed her first glass of red wine at fifteen in their company. She would never dare admit it but part of her did miss that. “Vozmozhno, oni delayut. Vozmozhno, oni etogo ne delayut. Ya khotel by verit’, chto ya dostatochno khorosh v sokrytii” she said in response, keeping her own voice low and intimate as well. So yes, she might seem weak and frightened because she was hiding. But that wasn’t the only thing she was doing here with a new identity as her facade. The Russian woman was like a sniper seeking her vantage point. Waiting, observing, learning… hunting.
“Forgive me for doubting that you actually do” the werewolf countered. And it wasn’t so much something said against his character but more a statement of her own. Whatever bond that had existed between Nicolas and her family -between him and her- wasn’t a guarantee that she could rely on the vampire now, and she wasn’t about to place her trust on a pretty memory. “It’s good but I’m partial to Prosecco” she simply said after returning the bottle of cognac to its adoring owner. Prosecco was more understated and yet more delightful, in Nat’s opinion. It took a fine palate to appreciate the value of simplicity, her mother used to say. Italian white wines wasn’t the only area in which she valued her mother’s philosophy. Nat shook her head slightly at his response though she had to admit he had a point. Nymphs and lamias, perhaps witches too, would be more helpful in the town’s current situation than a vampire. “Dinner and wine it is. Lead the way” the werewolf finally agreed mostly to gauge whether he’d be a menace to her with the knowledge he had or not. She was hoping for the later but she wasn’t getting her hopes up in any way. “Of course I have” Nat stated back as the pair continued to walk, tilting up her chin somewhat as she looked at Nico. He may remain unchanged while she could only hope there was hardly anything of her young self that he could recognize. “I’m not the naive girl you knew”.
“You have a peculiar way of showing that,” Nicolas observingly stated. It was almost humorous coming from him. He expressed his negative emotions through parties, drinking until he was numb, and through sarcastic comments that could get him punched. So his analysis held no credibility. People cope in different ways, and his way might not align with hers, so he kept his offer to help caged behind his teeth. At least the memories weren’t completely buried underneath the ground along with Dimitri. “So you knew the right ways to shut that man up. Which one do you recommend me to bring him? Russo-Baltique or Absolut Crystal?” Ones of the greater bottles of vodka, but ones that would match the occasion. Nicolas was more of a wine person himself, but it wasn’t fitting for her father. “True,” he whispered bluntly, eyes casting around their surroundings for a brief moment before landing back on her. “You haven’t gotten caught so far. It’s awfully impressive how it took me only today to notice you. I easily get drawn to faces like yours, but then again, my mind has been occupied elsewhere. Nonetheless, I’d say your skills are admirable, though I wouldn’t expect any less from you. Certain traits sure do run through the family.” He didn’t associate hiding with cowardice, mainly because that was something he was doing also, and he would never consider himself a coward. But with a woman like Natasha, Nicolas was sure she had other motives as well.
The corner of his lips curved upwards into an amused smile at her counter. “Believe it or not, even though I’m technically dead, there’s a heart somewhere in here.” His hand patted the left side of his chest. “I’ve always been known for my sympathies towards others.” At least that’s what they wrote about him in history books, which wasn’t too far fetched from the truth, but it sounded almost silly coming out from his mouth. At her answer, Nicolas made a face of disgust, as a scoff effortlessly rolled from his tongue. “Natalia, an Italian wine, really? I’m quite offended. I might even retract that dinner.” The new name of hers sound unfamiliar. It didn’t come out as easily as Natasha. He fell silent, for once in his life, as if in deep thought of questioning that dinner he blackmailed her with. But it was just an act -- he never had the primary intentions of cancelling that. “Ah, that was easy,” he analyzed, leaning back with a satisfied grin. He put his elbow out for her to hold to his arm before leading the way to his club. He doubted that any restaurants would be open with the current state of the town. Everyone seemed to be in distress enough to forget about their daily routine. “I know,” he deadpanned with a sense of seriousness. “I knew that as soon as I saw you. With the business that your father had, you can’t be naive. And since you’re standing here, alive, that’s telling enough.” He turned his head slightly to face her before a foolish smile graced his face, foreshadowing his incoming words that’s about the break the gravity of the moment. “You also grew out of that teenage acne.”
