Star Crossed and Uncaged

“darling, i have a question.” 

the statement is all the warning gavriil grants his beloved before his hand twists the knob, pushing the door open, and he enters the room. it is not a particularly socially acceptable way to invade someone’s personal space, especially when bunny is not the sole occupant of this room. furthermore, in the back of his mind, he can already hear marina’s inevitable griping about his lack of respect toward her establishment and her girls. yet, the russian’s mind promptly declines the opportunity to be concerned about any of those things. worry does not tarnish his features when he pushes the door close behind him. apprehension is nowhere to be found within his gaze as he pauses for a moment, taking a second to appreciate his girlfriend’s exquisite form. 

seven full years; now starting their eighth one together. never did he fancy himself the kind of guy who would keep people around for longer than a simple hookup. never did he imagine he would so willingly carve out his still beating heart and present it on a silver platter to a woman, knowing full well she might toss it away if a whim struck her. but here he is, years later, as enamoured and bewitched as he was during those early days.

but, ahem. his near blind adoration of bunny is not why he has come here. gavriil breathes in deeply and lets out an exhale. yes, right, he came here because he needs his curiosity sated.

“it’s about that parisian twink of yours.” the russian continues casually, as if they discuss this topic frequently — like this is not the very first time either of them have openly brought up the subject in a conversation. his feet lead him toward her bed and, with instinctive ease, intimate familiarity, plops down it. “is d’amour really his surname? or is it some bizarre custom of theirs? either way—” and now he does not conceal the flicker of amusement that curves the corners of his lips upwards, “— it’s certainly a choice, considering where they’re from.”

“Such anticipation,” she taunts, turning back to the vanity, resuming her ritual of transforming into something unattainable -- something otherworldly. It is only when he makes his intentions clear that Bunny pauses, placing her brush down with care as she considers her next words. It is not the act of intimacy that intrigues him, she understands, but what does? 

“What his surname lacks in creativity, he supplements elsewhere,” she grins, lips wicked and lovely. Bunny turns, cooly crossing one leg over the other, eyeing him now with the full depth of her hunger. “But that is not what you care to know. Speak freely, amante. There are no secrets between us.”

EVEN THOUGH HE balances three takeaway cups of coffee in one hand and a bag of their favorite pastries on the other, the task of opening the door to their apartment remains a simple one. the key slides in its place easily enough; an effortless twisting movement of his wrist; and just like that, the door opens. it barely registers in gavriil’s mind as he grabs the key again, shoving it to his pocket before he steps inside the apartment and pulls the door close once more. he has gone on countless coffee runs, so, by now, he’s learned the script by heart. he could do it with his eyes closed — a testament to how automated this little routine of his has become. 

today, however, the familiarity of this habit is what enables him to execute it successfully despite the startling phone call he received in the middle of it. he had just received their coffees when illarion had rung him. nothing extraordinary, for he did speak with his younger brother on the phone regularly. no, it was the information relayed during it that shook even a cold-blooded man such as himself. she’s dead, illarion had repeated frantically. she’s been murdered, brother. it had taken a decent amount of soothing words and firm questions before illarion had explained everything. marina, found brutally murdered in her own apartment. no culprit identified, though as illarion had mentioned, konstantin was already convinced of the killer’s identity. 

in gavriil’s mind, it makes little difference whether the russian boss’ accusations are true or false. what concerns him more are the potentially devastating consequences of this act of violence that he and his loved ones will face.

before he can further analyze the situation, his eyes land on a sight and thus force his mind to consider something far more delightful: bunny and abel. “you’re both awake.” he observes, brows rising in a show of mild surprise. “pity,” the russian continues as he heads toward the dining table. “i’d hoped you’d both be asleep still so i could tempt you awake with coffee and kisses.” the corners of his lips curve upwards in amusement as he places their breakfast items on the table. unfortunately, the moment of joy is short-lived; the call returning to the forefront of his mind. 

because of this, his smile dies and the expression on his features transforms into something somber. a brief inhale and exhale; and only then does he turn around to face his lovers. when he speaks, his voice is all seriousness and no humor. “have you heard the news already?”

She sinks back into bed, returning to the sleep-laden embrace of her lover. Her fingers trace the hollow beneath Abel’s eyes, down to his jaw, across lazy pulse of neck. In the still morning hour, Bunny considers lying, if only to preserve this moment a beat longer, to keep that world from reaching them here -- where they are supposed to be safe. But even beneath her comfortable, placid veneer, Bunny can see his slumbering skepticism. Where Abel had once been easy to sway, he is sturdier now -- sharper in his assessment of her. 

“Marina is dead,” she says, in the tone of cool admittance. Her touch smooths fly-away hairs that frame his face, and while she cannot bring the emotion to the forefront, she can feel it in her fingers. An anxious energy -- for while Bunny held an affinity for the woman, and perhaps a gratitude, she was not naive about the nature of her arrangements with the Cors and Sols. Indeed, if there was a woman more deeply entangled in the two besides Bunny, it was Marina. The news of her death was either bitter outcome or jarring premonition -- and both left Bunny unsettled. 

She opens her mouth, prepared to articulate this, when the door opens. For a moment, Bunny thinks she will have to voice the news twice -- and bear their resulting reactions -- but Gav’s warm greeting morphs into something matter-of-fact at the mention of Marina. It is a relief, she thinks, that he already knows. 

“Ruby just called, but she was...difficult to understand,” Bunny shakes her head, slipping from beneath the sheets toward the scent of coffee. In truth, Ruby had been hysterical -- all choking sobs and wails -- but it had made her incomprehensible, and rather useless in the way of insight. “Any idea what happened?”

She snags an unclaimed cup, sipping thoughtlessly from it. Her expression sours, and she offers it out to Abel as he emerges from the bedroom, “This one is yours. Appena commestibile.”

Bunny beckons Gav closer, pressing her lips to his cheek in greeting. From the table, she acquires her goods, stealing away to her favorite spot on the couch. She settles in, pulling a croissant from the bag and appraising it without appetite. “Well, surely we can piece something together between the three of us. Abel, did Victor call?”

a playlist for a woman who knows nothing’s fair in love and war.

she manipulates the rules, knows every move there is to make cuz she’s the creator of the game but by the time you realize it, 

it’s too late.

Her lips pursed together as flustered hands shoved a stray wave behind her ear. “I hope you like the taste of another man,” she spat towards his back. “Because I’m sure she’s still got Gavriil all over her.”

Send a pint of beer for my muse to get pregnant to yours after a night of blackout drinking– or vice versa. Feel free to specify.

“…Huh.” Abel stared blankly at the two pregnancy tests, the two stripes on each one clear as day. 

“Should we tell Gavriil - oof!” Bunny punctuated his sentence by barreling into his arms, laughter buried in his shoulder. Intoxicating and contagious, Abel couldn’t help but smile as his arms wound around her frame. For the moment, the pressure of Devil’s Touch and both the mobs was merely a cloudy thought that had drifted far away from the two of them.

Gently stroking her hair, Abel pulled away to look at her with soft eyes.

“…this would mean you can’t dance anymore, my love.”

Bunny only smiled more.

“Who cares? Marry me you french piece of shit.” Bunny grabbed on to his face and tugged him down for a sweet kiss, then another, and another.

Abel could only watch in wonder as Bunny laughed out of joy, lipstick rubbed all over his mouth, though that mild worry took a backseat to seeing Bunny so ecstatic.

“I just can’t wait for it to have my name.”

Bunny grinned and looked up at him, tenderly brushing a thumb across his cheek.

“Who says it’ll have your name, baguette?”

“You both will.” He responded simply, kissing the top of her head.

One extension of his arm was enough to shatter the wall that had suddenly built up between them. Wrapping his fingers around her wrist, Abel gritted his teeth.“You can’t just…leave - “ Abruptly, he was cut off with one swift movement of Bunny’s arm wrenching out of his grasp.“That’s what you did, didn’t you? You left me. You left us.” Stunned, Abel stared wide-eyed at Bunny. “You chose this, Abel. You chose this.”

“I didn’t have a choice, Bunny.”

“You always had a choice, Abel!” 

They fell silent, Gavriil uncertainly hovering behind Bunny after the outburst. A hand of his came down to gently touch her shoulder in an affectionate manner that Abel no longer had the privilege of having.“It is time to go - “

“You always had a choice, Abel! It was you who never wanted to acknowledge it!”

Wild and uninhibited. Bunny was never a tame animal, and her colors showed through in this moment - eyes burning with a cold fire, words laced with poison that dug its dirty nails into Abel’s heart. But before Abel could retaliate, before he could inhale a tight breath to try and regain his composure, Bunny stepped forward and officially shattered what little fortitude he had left.

“You are disgusting, and I hate you.”

Everything burned in Abel’s chest, and the trademark resolve that Corsicans prided themselves for having was dissolving at his fingertips.Abel set his jaw and took a step towards her, already feeling the fog of red cloud his mind.

“You don’t mean that, Bunny.”

“I have never said anything I didn’t mean to you more than this moment, Abel.” Bunny snarled.Without thinking, Abel forcibly broke through the freshly made boundary she had made just for him and wrapped his fingers tightly around her neck, the brunt of the pain rubbing harshly into his bleeding wounds.

“You’re lying - “

Abel barely touched her for even a moment when Gavriil viciously pushed him off. Landing on the floor, Abel coughed once only to be pulled back up by his wrist to his feet to meet Gavriil’s barbaric expression. 

“Do not touch her.” Gavriil warned, tone low and full of dark promise. 

To be yelled at by someone Abel loved was one thing. To be manhandled and dealt with like some stranger who had made the mistake of not paying a Sol was another. Wildly, Abel looked hard at the two of them, at their icy expressions that masked any previous affection for him, and felt his sanity slipping.

“Why don’t either of you understand?” Abel cried out, recklessly fighting against Gavriil’s grip, taking a hold of his rough hands and staring desperately into his eyes. 

“Everything that I have done was for the both of you! Why can neither of you realize that the relationship we have now is toxic?” Breathing unsteadily, Abel swallowed, trying to shake the coldness that wouldn’t leave Gavriil’s eyes.

“Nothing will be okay if nothing is changed, and I’m devoting myself to the Corsicans so that I will have the power to change our shitty situation!”

When was the last time he had felt this vulnerable?

“Walk away, Abel.” Gavriil’s low warning rattled his thoughts, but Abel kept going, fighting desperately against his frame.

“To love in public, to not have to hide!” Abel’s voice broke on these words, feeling his steadfastness wane.

“Isn’t that what we wanted?” Abel whispered, “I’m so close Gav, it’s right there -“

“And when is that ever going to fucking happen, Abel?” Gavriil snapped at him, leaning in dangerously close. “You’re deluded, Abel! For you to focus so much on some future you can’t even guarantee, to the point where you throw us to the side?! Who the fuck do you think we are, Abel?!”

Abel drank it in - the shakiness in Gavriil’s words and eyes, all proof that they still cared. But Abel could only watch as Gavriil closed his eyes, only to open them a moment later with the same coldness that was there before. 

“Turn around. And walk away.” Gavriil spoke slowly, words barely coming through gritted teeth.

Abel’s gaze hardened, practically shoving Gavriil off of him, breathing heavily. 

For once in his life, he felt so out of control, so out of touch with his emotions.Abel felt like he was ripped in half, with Gavriil and Bunny on either side. 

Abel swallowed the tightness in his throat and turned, his wide eyes staring at the floor with his fists shaking at his sides. 

The way of a Corsican was to kill in the most efficient way possible, achieving a clean cut that was almost signature to the mob.