Nina Fedorova

“Me neither. I’m firmly of the belief that everything that can be solved with a good cup of tea.” She nodded. It was what her grandmother had told her as such for as long as she could remember, and she’d be damned if she wasn’t sticking to it now.

“It’s a terrible time. All holidays are. Not in a bad way, obviously,” She reassured. “It’s just, I work at Flourish and Blotts, right? So every Valentine’s Day, or Christmas, we get all these people rushing in looking for first editions of some obscure book. And it’s always the day beforehand. It’s like no one knows how to shop ahead of time.”

“You’re not wrong.” Nina nodded, digging through her bag to find her apartment keys as they approached her door. She pushed her way into her apartment, and moved to the kitchen, beckoning Mafalda to follow her as she put the kettle on.

Antonin shrugged his shoulders before taking a long sip of his drink. He looked at her liquor and nodded. “Perhaps for my next one,” he drawled. Lips curved up once more. “I’ve not tried those,” he admitted, though he’d never been one for ice at all. There was something to muggle about it, but he would not offend Nina by saying so. At her comment, he shook his head. “I assume because she thinks I should be seeing someone like herself,” he said. “I made it clear her meddling was not needed or wanted, however.” And he hoped that Diana realized he’d been serious. Antonin looked back over at Nina. “I don’t want to be with anyone but you.”

Antonin nodded, agreeing with what she had said. He knew that he appreciated finer things simply because he’d needed to work for them in a way that so many in Britain did not. The idea of generational wealth irritated him more than he could say and he took a sip of the drink he’d prepared. “I drink vodka, usually,” he said with a quirk of his lips. “With an ice charm to keep it cold. Actual ice dilutes it too much.” The face he made was fond, however, and he leaned against a countertop as Nina asked if he’d had a nice evening. “I did,” he agreed with a shrug of one shoulder. “Though I could have done without Malcolm’s wife trying to set me up with someone else.”

“What kind of girl would be if I said no to a cup of tea, huh?” She tried to joke. Whoever said humour couldn’t be a reasonable defense mechanism? This time last year, she might have turned down an offer like that, regardless of whether she was having a nuclear-level freak out or not, but now? Everyone knew what happened to her. She could see it in the looks they gave her. She didn’t have any pride left to lose in admitting she might need some help.

“Wouldn’t want that. Everyone rushing around for last minute Valentine’s Day gifts, I’m sure I’d eventually get barrelled down.” She shrugged. “I watched a guy nearly knock over an old lady during his mad dash to the florist. It’s carnage out here.”

“Definitely not someone I want to associate with.” Nina smiled, then started walking in the direction of her apartment. She’d seen Mafalda’s name pop up in the papers, she was sure she must be going through something far more complicated than just a ‘hard time’. 

She nodded. It wasn’t often that she woke up in her bed with someone without having slept with them, let alone a famous ballerina. Let alone Elena’s sister. But that was a place she couldn’t go, not here, not right now. That was a dark and depressing turn of events that she was quite sure neither of them wanted to go down.

“I, well-” There was really no use in lying now, was there? And even if she had tried to say otherwise, she was almost certain the rest of her would give it away. “I don’t think so? But I also don’t really know what’s going on, so you can see the conundrum I’m having.”

Nina tilted her head slightly, and she felt a spark of an old feeling she’d not had in a while, a feeling she’d buried. She felt protective, in the same way she used to with Elena. When Elena got in one of her moods, and Nina would help relax her. She became quite good at recognising when people were overwhelmed. 

Kissing Nina was different from kissing Katsiaryna. He could not say if it was better – though it was certainly not worse – and even now, as he looked over at her, Antonin found Nina enchanting. His lips quirked at the corners at the grin on her face and he pressed one more kiss to her temple as she took the flowers from his hand. He shrugged at the assertion that the place was small and when he spoke, it was in Russian. “I did not grow up in such opulence as I live in now,” he told her quietly, a fact that he was revealing but had not necessarily given to others. “At the end of the day, it matters little.” He smiled at her thanks and moved to her drink cart to get something to drink. “Something a bit stronger,” he admitted with a small grin on his face. “You know, I realized we never got to discuss much of the Yule Ball. Did you enjoy it?”

Nina smiled as Antonin poured himself a drink “I didn’t either. I grew up on a farm, far from opulence. I think it’s why I do enjoy a bit of it now” she replied in Russian, walking over to the stroganoff to check on it, sipping her wine as she stirred slightly. “Whats your drink of choice? I’ll buy some to keep on hand.” Nina loved the way the corner of his mouth turned up slightly, he seemed very cheeky in that moment. She liked catching those small smirks, it proved that Antonin was someone who had an exterior that was there for most people, and she felt special to be able to see behind it. “We didn’t did we- I did I had a wonderful night. Thank you for taking me. Did you have a good night?”