Felyn
Rurik loved to travel; it had always been his true calling. With his band he saw most of the states and when they went their separate ways he started to go on long backpacking holidays around Europe with friends. He loved everything about it, discovering new places, tasting new foods and learning about cultures different to his own. There was however, something that came with travelling that he hated, that was flying. He was fine on boats, fine with driving for eighteen hours, fine with walking around mountains - however planes were always a stressor for him. A trait he was sure he inherited from his Mother who was an infamous flyer. Whenever Val stepped on a plane she made sure she was a vodka and a valium within reach.
Rurik was not sure that anybody actually liked flying, he was sure that there were some people who became accustomed to being in the air, put actually enjoying the experience was something else. His father had a three day head start on them, having left the night that the couple returned from the cabin and now it was their turn to join him in Moscow. The trip was booked for two weeks with the funeral being held over the weekend - true, it was rushed but he was glad in some odd way.
There had not been anytime to over think things or wait around, as soon as Zoe got her paperwork they headed out. That being said since the cabin, yet again, their schedule’s had separated them. Zoe had a life just as hectic as Rurik’s and it meant that sometimes they could not see each other as much as they would have liked. Secretly he could not wait for her to start looking for their own place and if an opportune moment came up over the next two weeks he was planning to bring it up. He wanted to come home to her, to have at least a few hours on a night together if nothing else.
Some might of thought the plane would have been that ideal time; nope.
Rurik and the two women in his life travelled over the sea together and a day in the sky, several cocktails and numerous Disney movies later and they finally landed at Moscow Airport. It was near midnight when they arrived at the high end hotel where they would be staying until the family car came to pick them up first thing tomorrow morning. It had been a long day already and they still had some ways to go before they arrived at the Volkov estate - Then Zoe would have the pleasure of meeting his estranged family.
The white haired man placed down his overnight bag by the side of the bed and kicked off his loosely laced converse. It was cold out tonight but that was to be expected, every memory he had of this place was filled with snow. Val was staying in the room next door, mentioning in the car that she did not want to share a room with him and Zoe honeymooning. Rurik had blushed and she just looked on with a knowing smirk.
"Oh man, my body clock is broken." He stated with a small sigh as he ran his hands down his -for once- makeupless face. He was looking oddly casual today because of the plane, wearing pair of jeans and a black t-shirt. He sat down on the edge of the bed and looked over at Zoe, stretching his legs to regain some feeling. As a dancer he hated sitting still, but hopefully now he could start to relax. Well, as much as he could relax in Russia. He had never been fond of the place and was secretly counting down the days until they were back home.
Then again, this time he was with Zoe. "Hey, do you want to order room service? Or shower first?"
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Zoe slipped easily into the room behind him, frowning slightly at the corners of her mouth.
It was a lot more than cold.
Despite the fact that they had departed the US on a fairly temperate day as far as April was concerned, Zoe had made sure to bring a long gray overcoat with her that she now clutched tightly with the tips of her cold fingers. She was only just starting to thaw as she sat her bag(s) down next to his, grudgingly only taking off the coat because she knew the air would be warmer against her skin. It was hung on the coat rack by the door before she crossed over and sat delicately on the bed next to him.
“Mine is too - it happened somewhere around that second mimosa.” Despite her exaggerated sensitivity to the cold, Zoe generally loved to travel. Her parents had always wanted her to be cultured and she had spent many years abroad - though most of them were in Greece, which was a far cry from Russia. The idea of being here was both thrilling and daunting. Zoe knew what it was to be the daughter of a powerful man but she did not know, really, what it was to be the heir to a dangerous one.
As she leaned down to untie the laces of her boots, she drew a deep breath and tried not to think about all the anxiety the trip was likely to cause. When the boots fell to the floor with dull thuds, she stretched out both of her legs and frowned down at the wrinkled hem of her white denims. She hated travel wrinkles. After a moment of consideration, she turned to look up at the man next to her. Just at the sight of his face, she was reminded suddenly why her uneasy feelings didn’t matter. Whatever tomorrow brought, she’d be there, and she had to hope at the very least that Boris would behave himself in front of her until the marriage went through.
With an affectionate look in her bright eyes and a smile curling her full lips, Zoe drew her legs up and pushed herself onto her knees. Her arms slid around his shoulders with a comfortable familiarity and she sank her body against him until she could press the swell of his shoulder against her stomach and lean her head onto his.
“I think I’m coming down from my buzz, I’m feeling very emotional.” Her face turned until she could nuzzle her cheek gently against his thick hair, shutting her eyes as she did. “Maybe we should eat. We can shower when I’m not so disoriented.”
Ryan smiled at her sympathetically, at least he knew what to expect from the journey. This was all new to Zoe; the cold, the dark, the nauseous feeling that came with changing time zones. She must of been exhausted. The Russian closed his eyes and rested his head against his fiance's, appreciating the closeness they shared. He raised his arm to gently rest his hand on her bicep and stroke her olive skin.
“You will get used to the cold, it’s just a shock on the first day.” It is why he had told her to pack like they were heading to the arctic as people often underestimated how cold it could get. Val was planning to steal her away for a couple of hours tomorrow to have a proper catch up and he was sure she would buy Zoe a very large and very warm coat whilst they were out.
He smirked at her comment about being disorientated. “I can hold you up if you want~” He knew she would feel better after a proper meal but was not going to miss the opportunity to invite himself to the shower with her. He rolled his face against hers and planted a soft kiss against her cheek. He would have asked if she wanted to go downstairs to the restaurant but he did not think that was such a good idea; what Zoe needed to do was rest and he did not want her to feel obliged to put herself out. “Room service it is then - in a minute.” He was in no rush to leave this spot.
He did not know if she had ever tried Russian cuisine before but this seemed like as good as a place as any to start. He would surprise her with it, try and figure out what she liked so she could order with certainty when they went out to eat places. There was nothing like looking at a menu and having no idea what anything tasted like or what was even in it.
“Do not worry too much Zoe, I am here and it is not going all to be doom and gloom. For one Mom is determined to take us to the opera house so no doubt you and here will be out buying very long and fancy dresses whilst I help my dad out. There are art galleries, museums and I can even take you to our sister club.” He held her close, and turned his head to look at her magenta eyes. The best thing to do for now was to get in a warm shower and put on some warm clothes, he would throw her pajamas over the radiator on the way to the bathroom.
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There was a comfort she felt in him that was new - to their relationship, yes, but also to her overall. For the first time in her life, Zoe felt that she could fully depend on someone to simply care about her well being instead of her success and that more than anything was what had the tension slowly easing from her shoulders. With a pleased smile lingering on her lips at the brush of his own against her cheek, she shifted until she could drape herself across his lap. Both of her arms slid down to circle his thin torso and she held him close, so that her side was pressed to his and her head could rest easily against the crook of his neck.
“Only if you promise to hold me up,” she teased, laughing softly against his pale skin.
Two bright, pink eyes looked up to find his as she leaned her head back a little into his shoulder. She wasn’t sure how he knew that she was so anxious, but listening to him talk about all the things they could and would do was a small grace. Just the sound of his voice was calming in a way she still wasn’t used to, but the smile as she stared up at him was all affection and admiration.
“I wasn’t going to tell her,” she offered, “but I don’t like operas very much..”
The music wasn’t her style, nor was the over dramatization in general. Yet how did one deny Val anything? Zoe was almost as enrapt with his mother as she was with Ryan himself. Generally, she did whatever Val wanted without complaint, because Val did so much for others without question. If she wanted to go to an opera, they would go to an opera.
She just shook her head at the thought.
“But I do like shopping, so I guess that’s the price I pay. At least the club sounds fun.”
"Me neither; she is just very sentimental, she met my dad at one and the tradition stuck." Valissa Volkov was a very secretive woman in regards to her past, even to her own son. He got drips of information every so often; how she had been adopted by Ivor, how her parents met cruel ends at the hands of the organisation that would take her in, how she used to be a criminal. She had met Nikolas on a job once upon a time and the rest was history - two very unlucky people crossed paths and the result was Rurilk himself.
Moving to America was her way of burying the past - coming back here always held the risk of raising her demons. In conclusion, nobody in his immediate family liked this place very much.
Zoe was leaning against him so peacefully, it almost broke his heart to move. Alas, Ryan knew if he did not get up they would both end up falling asleep and she would feel worse for it come the morning. Reluctantly and with a groan the white haired man pushed up, sliding from the side of Zoe to find his footing. He stood up with a stretch and a yawn, running long fingers through his already disheveled hairdo, his unstraightened hair was bushy and sticked out in various directions.
"The club makes ours look like a dive bar, there is a room completely made of ice. You will love it - do not worry, it is not as cold as it sounds." There were a lot of things that the culture here allowed that the states did not. Though the club was a viper's nest it was also a very fun night out and a chance to experience things that you otherwise might never come across. The clientele was generally very wealthy, very extravagant and very very high.
The Russian leaned over and grabbed Zoe by her hand to help her up, wrapping his free hand around her waist as he did so. "Well then, let's get you warm. I feel like I have been wearing these clothes for days, they need to come off." He stated, admittedly feeling a little bit grubby after such a long trip. Luckily for him the strain had not dampened Zoe's flirtatious humor.
He smirked down at her, raising an eyebrow playfully. "So do yours."
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“Of course - Russians love the cold so much that they want it in their bars too.” Zoe rolled her eyes playfully at him in exasperation, as she had been ever since she discovered how differently he reacted to the frigid temperature. He might have grown up in a warmer part of the world, but it was Zoe alone that seemed to feel the bite deep in her bones. The smile on her lips said how much of a joke it was, however, and she settled her bright eyes on his golden ones with a hint of mirth. Her shorter legs scooted her closer to the edge of the bed until, at last, she could reach out and grab his hand.
She let herself be pulled up into his embrace and drew both arms up to brace against his torso, letting them sink into place as if they’d done it a hundred times. Ever since their short-lived time in the cabin, it had been hard not to want to touch him constantly, to feel the beat of his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. It was no wonder that Val had noticed right away - after that comment she had turned a few shades of pink - but she supposed it was better than letting the woman wonder how well they were getting along.
After all, Zoe and Ryan weren’t the only ones that had been forced to accept this. It was good that others knew they weren’t exactly.. Suffering.
“We have been wearing these clothes for days,” she protested. She shifted until she could catch the hem of her shirt, inching it up along the plane of her stomach before it was pulled clean over her shoulders - and then, with a laugh, looped around the back of his neck. The air was cool but not horrible now that she’d had a few moments to steal his body heat and regain herself. The playful smile on her lips as she pulled herself up onto her tippy toes was true despite her body’s weariness and she used her grip on both ends of her shirt for leverage to hold herself there. Without heels on, it took a lot more effort to reach him. “But I would be more than glad to get them off..”
Her words were a sultry, teasing whisper as she spoke them against his lips, only ending them with a short, sweet kiss.
"I would not know, I was born in Los Angeles. ******** the cold."
Sometimes Ryan did miss his childhood home; it was where he developed his sense of style, where he formed his first band and where he met most of his lasting friends. Him and Jo often went to visit friends in the summer, spent a few days revisiting their old haunts and hanging around the venues where they had wasted most their youth. Sometimes he missed band life - but then he remembered all the reasons why he quit. Even though he deluded himself for a while, he was a Volkov in the end and protecting his family came before any childhood dream.
Ryan raised an eyebrow as Zoe stood up, his eyes shamefully checking her out as she pulled her shirt over her head, revealing the soft olive skin underneath. He stayed where he stood as she draped around him, leaning down slightly to press his lips against hers and Zoe stretched to reach him. His hands came to rest on the small of her bare back, stroking her olive skin gently as he losed his eyes to kiss her again, more deeply. When had he become such a sentimental fool? At what point had she turned him into this? If Angel was still around, if Kia was still around, they would have both made fun of him.
The Russian was pretty sure at this point she was trying to seduce him - not that he needed much convincing at all. Ryan stepped back slightly and edged his way towards the bathroom, pushing against the dip in her back to lead her along with him. That same playful smile remained on his face, her words only serving to encourage him more.
"Come along, I am waiting."
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Ryan might have questioned who he was becoming - but no less than Zoe, herself.
For someone that had never found a reason to keep a lover when her life was about her own success, perhaps being forced to take down her walls without her consent (at first) was what she had really needed. For so long she had resented the idea that she was expected to get married - not just to someone she didn’t choose, but really, at all - that it seemed a dumbfounding thought to find herself so enrapt with him.
Cassia seemed to think it a good joke that her independent older sister had finally been tamed, though looking up at his eyes just then told her that tamed wasn’t precisely the word for it.
“You won’t be waiting long.”
There was a flash of a smirk as she slipped the shirt from around his neck and tossed it blindly in the direction of the bed. It hit with a gentle thump against the edge, shifted, and finally slid slowly into a crumple on the floor. The typically strict fashionista probably would have been concerned over it wrinkling - except that his hands were beckoning her into the far room and she couldn’t be bothered to care about something as trivial as wrinkles.
That thought five years before would have sent her into a frenzy.
“Get the water started,” her fingers poked him gently in the stomach as they passed the threshold, and her other hand shut the door firmly behind her.
FIN <3
