#nat.writes

The mornings for Daryl were weary but eventful, nevertheless. He never could stay in one place for long without action, but there were moments when he would need a moment to sit and allow himself the pleasure of relaxation without the anticipation that someone was going to come asking for him. Being surrounded by a community was homely but some alone time would do him good. No breath wasted on chatting, no energy wasted maintaining attention on a one-way conversation and no missions to deal with. That was all he needed for a while before hitting the hay. Sleep was cathartic in its own way but nothing could compare to staying awake with the company of the night sky and the autumn breeze.

Trudging down the dirt path, Daryl navigated his way through the place with only a candle in hand. A lantern would draw too much attention and the circle of light that glowed from the candle was more than enough for him to see where he was going. He knew this place like the back of his hand. Getting around by muscle memory alone would have been enough but he was not taking any chances with whatever lurked in the dark.

As he walked off into the more isolated parts of the camp, he thought that his mind was playing tricks on him. He swore that he heard a rustle but when he turned around, he was met with nothing. Convincing himself that it was the wind, he continued on. The very second time he heard the rustle, they sounded more of footsteps than the wind ruffling through the tall grass or the leaves in the trees overhead. Dried grass crunched underneath each step but he did not stop moving just yet. After taking a few more steps, he spun around abruptly to catch his pursuer as soon as the footsteps drew closer, merely inches away from him. With frightening speed, his arm shot out to grab the figure by the arm and he pulled them closer to the light to see who it was.

Scowling, he loosened his grip on the arm and sighed. “Connie, you should know better than to sneak up on me like that,” he spoke as he signed the keywords that he knew.

“You should know better than to sneak away,” Connie signed with a matching scowl. “You just disappeared.”

Shaking his head, Daryl could not help but sigh. “It’s not like I’ve never done it before.”

"Well, I’ve caught you." There was something victorious in the way she smiled at him.

Clicking his tongue, he let out a chuckle. “Yeah, yeah… Ain’t gonna rat me out, are you?”

Instead of signing, Connie pulled out her notebook from her pocket and scribbled a few words onto a page. Beaming at him, she held the book up to him. ‘If you won’t tell, I won’t tell. :)’

“I can do with that,” Daryl chortled. Taking a few steps forward, he stopped to look at her expectantly. “You joinin’ me or what?”

Giddily, Connie took his side and allowed Daryle to usher her to his destination. As it was not in use anymore, Daryl decided that the best place to linger was the little abandoned cabin just outside the walls of Hilltop. There was no need to go sneaking over the walls seeing as there was already a hidden passageway that led to the humble little place. He lifted a trapdoor concealed underneath a fake pile of wood and motioned for Connie to hop in first before following after her. Their journey did not take long and soon enough, they were settling down into the shabby comfort of the cabin. It looked better on the inside than out. It was furnished with blankets from the camp, stocked with lousy moonshine and stolen rations, and a couch sat just in front of the fireplace in a condition good enough to be deemed pristine under their circumstances. The kids who had set this all up sure knew how to be hospitable.

Daryl slumped into the couch with a groan and watched as Connie wandered around the room, exploring the place to feed her growing curiosity. It was a delight seeing her examine every terrain with such wide-eyed wonder. She had no such freedom to take her time with her surroundings whenever they ventured out of Alexandria but here, she took advantage of every second. She picked up a jar of moonshine to shake the liquid around before setting it down to move on to the next object. Daryl saw her go through every object that she could interact with and once she was done, she went over to the couch to sit at the other end of it where she could lean against her own arm rest.

“How did you find this place?” she signed with a contented smile.

“Uh- Saw a bunch of kids sneakin’ out here once. Would’ve reported but that's none’f my business,” he answered, singing rather clumsily this time.

Connie nodded and she tipped her head to look around once more. “It’s nice.”

“I’m glad you think so.” To add on to the ‘niceness’, Daryl dug through his pockets, producing a bit of bread wrapped in a handkerchief which he offered to Connie. “Got snacks too.”

Laughing silently, she pinched off a piece for herself then pushed the rest of it back to him. “Have we become teenagers again?”

“Maybe. It’s nice to leave behind the adult stuff… Relax for a bit.” He took a bite out of the bread and leaned into the couch. “We don’t get many moments like this. I come back into the camp and the next thing I know, my ass is on my bike again.”

“You could always say no.” Pausing, Connie reconsidered her words. “But I understand why the people would rather have you out there. The obligation must be difficult to resist.”

“Mhm… Gotta do the most I can to help this community and others. Can’t let my friends down.” He took another bite of his bread then picked up the spare bit to put on Connie’s lap. He saw her features melt into a scowl but he laughed it off.

“You need to look after yourself. Put yourself first, just for a day,” Connie retorted with the bread hanging loosely in between her fingers.

“What d’you think I’m doing now?”

Rolling her eyes, Connie sank into her corner. “This barely counts.”

“But it still counts.”

Throwing her hands in the air, she gave in and ate her bread but Daryl was not letting her get all grumpy. He scooted closer to her until their shoulders bumped and she was already smiling. If there was anyone who could not stay mad for long, it was her. Her frustrations often came from a good place. One of care and love for those around her. He was not accustomed to such treatment from others, and she was right when she said that he needed to take care of himself first before others. It was as if he had become a vessel to carry others. Should he ever sink, his priority would be to guide his loved ones to safety. He never did allow himself to think if it mattered whether he capsized or not. It was always about his loved ones.

He folded her arms over his chest and gave her shoulder another nudge to get her attention but eyes flickered somewhere else. He tried again but this time she scooted away, her smile only growing. Giving up was not an option so he resorted to pressing him back against Connie, squishing her into the couch like a cushion. She grunted softly and her head snapped back to look at him with amusement, giving him a gentle pinch to the arm.

“See? I’m resting,” he signed with a grin. “Good enough for you?”

“I guess. Comfortable?”

“Very much.” He readjusted himself so that they were both comfortable and when he settled into a position, Connie wrapped an arm around his shoulders but she was still attending to her bread. “You enjoyin’ that?”

“Didn’t eat much today.”

Daryl snorted. “Now you’re one to talk about self-care.”

“I wasn’t hungry.” After eating her last bite, she dusted the crumbs off her hands then ruffled Daryl’s hair. “Now, I’m full. Problem solved. You, on the other hand, need rest.”

“No point arguing, huh?”

Connie’s face softened up and she gave his shoulder a light jab. “I’m not arguing. I just want you to take care of yourself.”

“I know… I know you do. I’ll try.” He reached a hand up to poke her forehead. “You worry too much about me. Ain’t nice seeing you all worked up because of it.”

“I’m not the only one. Your family worries too.”

“I know. But you shouldn’t have to.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I worry because I care. End of story.”

Daryl grumbled softly but Connie did not miss his smile. He was a softie and she knew that very well. As the night stretched, the two of them relished in each other’s company. They did not need to converse to enjoy the time that they spent. Despite living in silence, being in the presence of another was always a blessing and Daryl’s very being was horribly chaotic in her circle. It was lovely for a change having him around compared to her sister and her usual group of friends. Even in a crowd, it was easy to feel lonely but with Daryl around, there was no worrying about how loud the silence could get.

She reclined into the sofa, Daryl falling against her to follow her adjustments. She had lowered herself enough for the both of them to lay down on the couch and she swore she saw Daryl cover his mouth to yawn. She rested a hand over his eyes as though motioning for him to fall asleep and she was relieved when he said nothing against it. When she lifted her hand, his eyes were closed and he had folded his arms over his chest. His lips moved to mouth something and in minutes, he fell asleep. With a hand resting on his chest, she could tell that he was snoring away already. It took a lot of effort to refrain herself from laughing at how fast he had fallen asleep but she was happy to see him taking even the smallest step to take care of himself. So much for saying he didn’t need to be taken care of.

Sleep did not come to her that night. Some part of her felt obliged to stay up and keep watch as they were outside the grounds of Alexandria. Anything that happened to them would be their responsibility. Daryl had always been the responsible one among the groups he led so it did not hurt to pick it up this time just for him to have a chance to rest. However, she dozed off at the first wink of sunrise. It was not after when she felt a weight lifted off of her which was indicative enough that Daryl had already awoken but she could hardly lift an eyelid so she slept on.

When she woke up, she found herself back in her bed, tucked in clumsily. The sun had already risen and she knew that because she had forgotten to draw the curtains shut which had caused a glare of heat to wake her up abruptly. The air in the house was still. Perhaps everyone had already gotten up for the day. Daryl was not there but something else greeted her vision. On her bedside was her notebook opened to a page in very familiar scribbles. Picking it up and reading it in her haze of sleepiness, she could make out a few words but they were enough to bring a smile to her lips. Clutching the notebook to her chest, she laid on her back and granted herself just a few more minutes of rest.

Dressed in nothing but loosened corsets, Hélène Kuragina and Marya Dmitrievna sat opposite one another upon a window seat, leaning on either side of the wall. There they sat not as a countess or grand dame but as two simple women stripped of their expensive lives. Silks, pearls, gems and cloth had been discarded on the floor by the red velvet bed, not forgotten but abandoned for this very moment. Secretly, they enjoyed this lifestyle. One kept behind a locked door. They did not have to cover the lipstick stains that colored their skin where they were not meant to be or redo their hair that was out of their usual styles or even address one another with their society’s formalities. They were free to be who they wanted to be but only behind the two grand doors that hid them away from the prying eyes of society.

Neither spoke. There was a conversation that came and went but it had been pause as they relished in the silence and in each other’s company, but their attentions were diverted. Hélène found the rain fascinating to stare at, or perhaps it was a thought that had distracted her as she gazed at the glazed window. As for Marya, her attention wavered from the cigarette between her index and middle finger to Hélène. The woman was truly enchanting. Even when she did not have a face full of make-up or pearls around that exquisite neck, she was a sight to marvel. Bare neck littered with kisses, gorgeous brunette curls that pooled down her shoulders, a leg dangling off the seat and one brought to her chest, and a faraway look. Lords, it was hard to tear her eyes away from one so angelic. Wordlessly, Marya tapped Hélène’s knee and held out the cigarette which was taken out of her hand rather quickly.

Hélène took a long drag from the cigarette that had been passed over to her, her chest rising slowly as she inhaled until she could no more. She only removed the bud from her lips to exhale, lowering her head so that it did not bother the woman who sat opposite her upon the window seat. Her wine glass was dry of its contents for a third time, and it was left untouched despite the evidently unfinished bottle of wine sat beside it. Her eyes were now lowered to stare at her feet instead of the window and lazily, she took another swig of bitter smoke.

Marya was not certain if these were signs to be wary of. She was not done with her second glass as her concern for the brunette refrained her from taking another sip to a hazy state of mind.

Hélène had proven herself to be an unreadable woman and it was all thanks to the man she called her father. Marya reserved no praises for that monster of a man for turning his own daughter to a delicately carved marble sculpture. She was fragile as she was cold and beautiful. One nudge would send her toppling over from the stand she had been built on. Marya hated that she could never figure the Kuragina out. Though, she knew what it was that was haunting her at this very moment. The conversation resumed from where they had stopped it.

“There’s nothing left to do,” Marya spoke up.

“I don’t need a reminder, Masha.” Hélène’s voice was raspy from the mixture of nicotine and alcohol, but it was clear with hurt. From the way she frowned, it showed she had not meant to let slip of the emotion.

“I know… I’m sorry.” Marya D. never apologized but somewhere inside her felt obliged to.

Shaking her head, Hélène scowled. “Why are you apologizing? It should be my parents, not you. You’ve never done anything wrong.”

Marya sighed and she plucked the remainder of the cigarette from Hélène’s fingertips to stop her. “I have no way to help you, Hélène.”

“Your company is enough, you know that. I don’t ask much from you, do I?” Hélène lifted her eyes to meet Marya’s grey hues. Her brown ones were so hollow.

“You don’t.”

“Then I don’t see why you should apologize for having nothing to offer when you’re always giving me what I need.”

“Could Pierre not offer the same?”

Hélène let out a harsh laugh. “No- I… I don’t want to be around him. His company is worthless to me. When I’m with him, I feel lonelier.”

“But”-

“He’s my husband by law, not by will. It’s only a term to officiate a person’s place in a marriage as is the term ‘wife’. I’m sure you understand,” Hélène scoffed.

Then Hélène turned away again. Something stung at the tip of her tongue to be said, Marya could tell based on the way Hélène moved and responded to her hesitation. The twitch of her lips, her blank wide-eyed fixation on nothing in particular and how she brought her hands together in deep contemplation. Why she was so cautious of her words in front of Marya, she could not find the answer. Hélène had always been a vocal one in society and crowds. Why could she not speak to a single individual who had much lesser significance?

Reaching over, Hélène picked up the bottle of wine and tipped her head to take a large gulp. Marya would have assumed that it was an attempt to flush out her feelings and the question that had been plaguing her. It was not uncommon of Hélène to avoid such a sensitive topic but after another gulp or two, Marya was met with the sight of solemn eyes and flushed cheeks. The drink had been intended to break down her walls and to wash away any regret that would creep up on her for asking such a question.

She trusted Marya to see her in vulnerability and God, did she have so much of hope that the woman would not let her fall and shatter like so many people had in her years of living. For one so young, she was already worn and ruined. Here she was exposed in front of Marya. Marya was truly a sight for sore eyes. Even with a face bare of make-up, her youth came from her own features. Soft pale skin, eyes that glittered underneath any source of light and red lips that complemented her complexion. And Hélène? Behind the make-up were tired eyes with dark rims of exhaustion, freckled cheeks kissed by the sun (tainted imperfection, her father once pointed out) and lips chapped from neglect and alcohol. She did not have half of what Marya did and it made her feel so small.

Hélène contemplated for a moment and with a trembling breath, she whispered, “Will you still love me, Marya?”

Bafflement was an understatement when Marya caught her words and quite unsure with herself, she inched closer to Hélène. “I-I beg your pardon?”

“Will you still love me in the years to come? That is if you even love me now… Masha, I need to know this, please,” Hélène implored as she slumped against the wall hopelessly.

“I do love you, my dear… And I will always. Maybe even more so since I can’t have you.”

“Really? Even if I were to bear his child?”

Marya snorted but not rudely, just light-heartedly. “Is this the same Elena I’ve been speaking to for years?” That made Hélène laugh lightly. “You would never carry a child. You’ve said it yourself.”

“I know but… If it ever happens, will you still love me?”

“You and the child, both, Lena... Now, will you stop worrying about the future? It’s not like you to be so worried.”

Hélène pointed a finger at Marya accusatorily. “That is where you’re wrong… I’m always worrying.”

“Well, you shouldn’t.” Marya tossed the burning cigarette into her wine glass then held her arms out to Hélène. “Come here.”

Hélène crawled over to Marya and slid right onto her lap. Her arms moved to wrap around her neck while her legs clung on to her waist in a secured hug. Her head came to rest on Marya’s shoulder and her hands carefully brushed the locks of fiery red hair away to tuck behind the other woman’s ear. Marya enveloped Hélène in her arms and pressed a long affectionate kiss upon the crown of her head.

Over the smell of tobacco and wine, Marya could smell the perfume that Hélène wore. It was the same scent that would linger on her side of the bed every time she woke up to find that Hélène had gone home… Back to her husband that she did not love. Hélène had no such luxury of waking up to a reminder that she was not alone in the safety of her own home. Much less a place she could confidently call home. The Bezukhov household held no such title.

In just a few moments, maybe a few minutes or hours, Hélène would have to return to that forsaken building to face her intoxicated husband. She could hold her alcohol but that man had no existing ability. Hélène was aware of his temper but Marya was not. It would be horrible to tell Marya just how horrid her old friend could be when she spoke so highly of him… Maybe one day when she was not in the state of mind to over-evaluate herself. The thought of having to return soon made Hélène clutch onto Marya tighter, as if for dear life, and she buried her face in her shoulder so deeply, she might just vanish into the older woman’s embrace.

“Masha, I don’t want to lose you…”

“Nonsense. What makes you think you will?”

“I don’t know… Your reputation? Your place in society. Your honor.”

Tutting softly, Marya pulled away from Hélène to lift her head up gently by her chin. “Lena, dearest. I love you… I love you with all my heart. My honor and place will never last anyway.”

“But you’ll be sent to your ruin.”

“And you won’t?”

A pause. “I’m… I’m already ruined.”

“There’s always a way to restore yourself. But putting society aside… My dear, I don’t love you as the Grand Dame of Moscow. Even if I lost my title, I would still love you all the same.”

“But”-

Before Hélène could finish her sentence, Marya pressed a kiss to her lips to silence her. Hélène, without protest, melted into the kiss and eased her shoulders to slouch against Marya. They pulled away for a breath and Hélène connected their foreheads, a hand coming to rest on Marya’s cheek. To misspend their last moments together for the day stressing their heads off was not ideal. It was not that Marya did not wish to acknowledge Hélène’s feelings. It was the fact that she did not want Hélène to return home with dread weighing on her, and there was a chance that this could be the very last time they saw each other until a few months. Neither would want to reminisce their final moments together that had been wasted away in sadness.

“No more worrying, okay?” Marya murmured as she planted another kiss on her lips.

“No more,” Hélène agreed and she gave Marya a small peck on the lips. “I love you, ma belle.”

And another kiss. “I love you too, my dear.”

“Will you write to me…?”

Marya smiled and nodded. “Of course. I’d love nothing more.”

Hélène beamed at Marya and gave her a loving kiss. The first genuine smile of the evening. “I’ll write back as soon as I receive your letters.”

“You’d better.”

“Is that a threat, Akhrosimova?” Hélène’s lips brushed against Marya’s and they quirked up into a drunken grin.

Marya rolled her eyes but leaned in to kiss Hélène again. “Perhaps.”

“Ooh~ Feisty.”

The clowns that struck so much of fear in Marya now reduced her to a fit of giggles because of Hélène’s eagerness to prove to her that she could protect her. Her dear knight in shining armor whose methods of defense were words of comfort and throwing her fists in the air quite literally. Perhaps it was more of a way to distract Marya and she had to admit it was working very well. It may appear rather childish to the eyes of other but Marya adoredHélène for her thoughtfulness and courage to make her happy at the cost of her dignity. Not that she had little to spare. For Marya, she had dignity enough to supply ten lifespans.

After many headache-inducing rides, the ladies made their way to the game booths with a lot of optimism. Marya had a good aim and Hélène had passionate determination. There was no way this could go wrong with half a fraction of a probability that they might win something. They approached the most typical carnival game they found which was ‘Knock Down the Cans’ and it was a considerably easy start. Or to put it in better words, to Marya it was an easy start.

Marya went first to try her luck and on the first try, she managed to knock all six cans down. At least they knew the games were not rigged. Hélènetried her hand in the game but only managed to knock down the top three cans with the two remaining turns that Marya had left. They won a decently sized stuffed giraffe and Marya was quite amused by the choice. Hélène had the honor of carrying the giraffe with her as they continued to browse through the games.

Then they moved on to the next game which was a game of hoops and bottles. They were given seven hoops each and it was comical seeing how different the two of them played the same game. Marya was more focused on aiming the hoops onto the red bottle which was the jackpot for the biggest prize. Hélène, on the other hand, flung all the hoops with a single swing of her arm and depended on her luck to win; which she did. She landed a blue and a red, blue being the second biggest prize, and she grinned at Marya.

“Did you see that?” she exclaimed gleefully.

“It was hard to miss. No pun intended,” Marya laughed as she tossed her last hoop onto a yellow bottle which was the smallest prize.

Hélène slung an arm around Marya’s shoulders and chuckled pridefully (though, modestly). “I knew it would work!”

“You’re a lucky one, my dear. Of course, it would.”

After accepting their prizes, a large pastel rainbow plushie, a big llama and a small panda, they scurried over to another booth. They had to place all of the toys into Marya’s bag that was surprisingly enough to store their new family of toys and Hélène very kindly offered to carry the lot since Marya spent most of their time lugging that thing around unfashionably. Their next game involved a toy shotgun and balloons for targets in front of them of various sizes. The smallest would earn then the biggest price, and vice versa.

Hélène was so concentrated on getting the smaller balloons which stole Marya’s attention for a few good minutes. The way her tongue stuck out in concentration, how she kept one eye open to aim and her imperfect stance. It was hard to tear her eyes away from her. However, she had to. She could not keep the other bystanders waiting long for their turn with the game so she took her aim and fired her first shot. It hit one of the smaller balloons and she felt a burst of pride within her. She had five tries and now down to four since she had just used one. Aiming once more, she fired but it missed the smallest balloon by just an inch. The failure earned her a loud scoff from her left and she turned to see a woman who had been eyeing her with interest at his own station.

“You had a strong start. Let me show you how it’s done,” she hummed.

With his own shotgun, she fired a shot without so much of an aim and it hit the smallest balloon. It did little to impress Marya, and it only made her slightly infuriated. She was not about to have a carnival game explained to her just because she did not get that shot. But she decided to watch her for her own amusement. The woman, whose details she did not bother acknowledging, finished off the job. She popped all the small balloons within her range before settling the gun down on its stand. Marya’s face remained unchanged aside from the quirk of her brow as the woman turned to look at her with a charming smile.

“And that is how it’s done,” she chirped.

“Well, I never asked for a demonstration,” Marya responded plainly.

“You’re not angry, are you~?” she purred as she inched just a little closer.

Marya tutted softly. “It’s only a game, so why would I?”

“I do love a strict woman who knows how to speak up for herself,” the woman coddled as she extended a hand to accept his prize which he generously offered to Marya. “One for the lady?”

“I apologize but I cannot accept that.”

The woman pouted. “And why’s that? You don’t have to be so kind.”

“Made a new friend, ma belle?” Hélène interjected out of the blue and she stepped beside Marya. For a lady shorter than Marya and the stranger, she exerted quite a presence. She slid her hand into Marya’s and held it firmly, kind eyes fixated hard on the stranger.

Marya knew that look all too well. As composed as Hélène came to be, her play pretend could not go past Marya’s detection. The intensity in her brown hues and the smile that naturally came to her lips only meant that she was trying to put on an act to hide another burning feeling within. From what she could see, it was nothing too severe…yet. Hélène had patience tenfold of Marya’s but her protectiveness over Marya might reduce it tenfold as well.

“No, dear. She is simply a mentor. I missed a balloon and she taught me how to play properly,” Marya told her with a small smile, and her grip tightened on Hélène’s hand.

“Really? How thoughtful of you,” Hélène remarked, her smile growing sweeter.

“It was nothing really~ Couldn’t have a lady like her humiliate herself with such a simple game. Thought a prize would swoon her~” Gosh, the tone in that woman’s voice meant that she was not taking a hint and with how close she had scooted to Marya, the boundary stood thin.

Taking the situation into her own hands, Marya wrapped an arm around Hélène and pressed a kiss to her temple. Her hand still held hers which was highly visible to the woman’s vision. “We should get going. It’s getting quite late and we’ve got work tomorrow, haven’t we, love?”

“We do. It was a pleasure to meet you, miss. Have a great night,” Hélène wished quickly.

Marya maneuvered them away from the booth as swiftly as possible after a brief nod towards the woman, and she had not realized how tight she had been gripping onto Hélène’s hand until they reached their car. Marya unlocked it and released the hand to get into the driver’s seat silently. Neither of them spoke until they got into the car and drove away from the parking lot.

It was quite an eventful night and not quite the way they wanted it to end. Though, Hélène was rather astounded by the way Marya had complete grasp of the situation. She had been the one who wanted to diffuse it because of her budding jealousy but it was Marya who did it. The handhold, the kiss to her temple and the rapid excuse to leave. It was all Marya and Hélène could feel her love for the woman swell.

She spoke up bashfully. “Thank you for handling the issue.”

“It was hardly an issue to begin with.”

“It was going to be one.”

“True but the issue was only centered on that woman. I drew the line but she chose to step over it. I knew we had to leave then before it grew into one.”

“Smart move.”

Then there was a moment’s silence.

“Why’d you do it?” Hélène inquired all of a sudden.

Marya glanced at Hélène questioningly. “Did what?”

“Everything just now. You’re never open to PDA.” Even in the dark, Hélène could see Marya smiling fondly.

Sighing to herself, she held a hand out to Hélène for her to take and when she did, she brought her knuckles to her lips to press a lingering kiss. She did not lower her hand even as she spoke. “I wanted to show her that I already had someone to love. Someone I’m very proud of in all she does, even if she sticks her tongue out in concentration.”

“So you were showing me off?” Hélène joked with a light laugh.

“Sort of like that. Only because I’m proud that I have someone and I truly love you.”

“Marya Dmitrievna Akrhosimova! I never knew you were so corny,” Hélène gasped dramatically.

“Oh, shush… I’ll stop talking.”

“No, no! Go on, please!”

Marya shook her head but continued anyway. “After today, I really just… I’ve never appreciated you so much. From the clown incident at the start to standing up to that woman. You showed me how much you cared and I’m touched.”

“Aw… You big softie.” Hélène pecked Marya’s cheek gently and rested her head on her shoulder. “I love you, ma belle. So damn much. I hope you know that.”

“I do. And I love you too. So, so very much… Now, if you could just move back to your seat. Your head is very distracting.”

“But I’m comfortable.”

“Oh, you minx”-

Many agreed that she was a beauty and her eyes were ones that people could easily get lost in. However, with how she scoweld upon people who approached her, such a sight was obscured and it chased away those who overstayed their welcome around her. The soiree she attended was no excuse. It was her birthday, to be precise, and her parents had thought it was a wonderful idea to invite their friends and every large name there was in Moscow. They were fairly acquainted with several notable names such as Pavlovna and Bezukhova but all she had wanted was a peaceful day for herself. Now, she had to prepare herself to face a crowd of strangers and acquaintances alike, as well as people her age she had never met before. Perhaps she had met them before when they were much younger but they had never interested her.

Being at a suitable age for marriage, there was no doubt her parent would try to set her up with someone. And God above, that would certainly be the worst birthday gift they could ever provide.

She walked among the crowds with her head held high. She had done her best to avoid finding herself in the middle of the ballroom in a dance too intimate to her liking. It was gorgeous to watch from where she stood. The twirl of skirts, men lifting women in the air as well as boys did to girls, the graceful dips and steps they took. It was truly a masterpiece to watch and something about it brought a sense of peace to her. Finding the best spot to spectate at, she settled in and clasped her hands behind her, a small smile upon her face. The smile, however, vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, quietly scoffing at how it slipped out of the intricate hairdo that had taken her a good hour to do. One of the struggles of being a woman. She had to be presentable as a single flaw was able to tarnish one's reputation to be messy and lazy. It was the last thing she wanted to be referred to. As she hastily tried to slip the hair back into place, she was startled by a giggle that came from beside her. It was not the reaction she had expected for the way she had so outwardly expressed her scorn for the fallen strands of hair but it was not unpleasant.

"Are you alright?" a voice asked. A lady's.

"I'm fine, thank you. I'm afraid my hair isn't cooperating with me today," Marya murmured as she patted her hair down.

Another giggle. "Mine never cooperates but I'll let you in on a secret. Use pins."

"I haven't got any with me now..." Marya sighed in defeat but the other let out a rather jolly hum.

"I've got plenty~"

Marya finally turned to look at the stranger but the first thing she was met with was her hand holding out a pin to her. Taking it, she gave the other a quiet 'thank you' and pinned up the stray strands. It worked a charm and Marya smiled broadly. Turning to meet the stranger face to face, she swore her heart nearly skipped a beat. This lady was a sight for sore eyes. The way her eyes sparkled underneath the lights, her lopsided smile that held so much innocence, head of wild curls that had been tamed down into a bun and pink cheeks that complemented her olive skin. Her dress was the second thing Marya noticed but it was truly nothing compared to her features.

After much studying, she recognized her. Hélène Kuragina. The middle child and only daughter of the Kuragin family. She had known her for a very long time. They were only children when they first met and back then, their chatter had only consisted of boring lessons and talks about the future such as getting married to the man of their dreams. Like every little girl, they played with dolls and their mother's make-up whenever they met. They were not exactly close friends but they were friends who could tolerate one another. (Or that was what they thought). Marya and Hélène had certainly grown out of their time of make believe, tea parties and childish princess dresses.

When they became teens, it was then they began to see each other less for they had their own duties to run in their families. As only daughters in their families, there was much upon their shoulders as adults. And Marya already had a taste of it even before the age of 20.

Swallowing nervously, she bowed her head. "Thank you, again, for your hairpin."

"It's no trouble, ma chere~ You can keep it," Hélène told her with a smile.

"Thank you..." Marya fidgeted with her hands, out of an eyeshot from Hélène's watchful eyes. Oh, this was just splendid. "It's a pleasure to meet you again, Elena."

"Likewise, Marya. I didn't think you'd remember me~" Hélène exclaimed.

"You're a hard face to forget," Marya remarked and she was quite sure she saw a blush on Hélène's face.

"Oh, you flatterer. It's not very healthy for my ego," Hélène laughed as she waved a dismissive hand at her. "So... Why aren't you dancing?" Hélène inquired as she looked towards the dancers as they swapped partners.

"It's not a favorite of mine," Marya answered quite plainly.

"But you don't dislike it?" Hélène tried again.

Marya glanced at her. "I don't."

Grinning from ear to ear, Hélène held a hand out to Marya and curtseyed. "Well then, may I have this dance, Marya?"

"Oh... I can't possibly say no to you, can I?"

"You know me so well!"

Marya took Hélène's extended hand and allowed the girl to lead her out of the crowd and into the circle of dancers. They were not the only pair of dancers of a similar gender. Around them, Marya could see the flair of skirts brushing against one another's as they spun, a haze of silks and cloth. Men in tuxes would take turns to lift each other and the one in the air would playfully kick their legs. Being in this circle and slowly melting into the steps of the dance, she never knew it was an experience more wonderful than watching from the sides.

Hélène led the dance, Marya could feel the way she directed them along with the tide of dancers. Her feet followed the flow and it all felt so natural to her as if she had done it a hundred times over. The feeling of Hélène's hand on her waist, their hands intertwined so very delicately, how Hélène gazed into her eyes, Marya did not want this to end. Perhaps dancing was not too bad after all. It was a matter of finding the right partner and she sure did.

The crowd around her condensed into a haze of colors and the only person she could see was Hélène. As for Hélène, it was the same view. All she could see was Marya and she certainly did not miss the way her eyes flickered to her lips. It was not as if Marya had done much to conceal the way her eyes slowly wandered about to study her face, and Hélène was just as fascinated by how Marya had transformed into such an elegant woman. Last she saw her, Marya only wore ribbons, lacey dresses and white stockings that nearly every child in Moscow had. This was a sight to behold.

The next thing they knew, their lips met in a brief, fleeting kiss. They did not care if there was anyone around them who saw. They exchanged giggles when they pulled away and Marya leaned in to press her forehead against Hélène's gently. Hélène's smile was in her eyes. The way they quirked up and still glimmered. It made Marya's heart pound.

When the music came to an end, so did their dancing. Hélène brought her hands up to Marya's cheeks and she pressed a loving kiss to her lips. This kiss lasted longer than the first did, but it was not as long as Marya had wished it to be. Pulling away for breath, Hélène tiptoed to kiss Marya's nose, hands still caressing her cheeks.