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 Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2018 3:23 pm
Quote: The Holidays are supposed to be a time for cheer, and yet there's something strangely dismal about tonight. You're out by yourself and you pass by a building completely coated in a strange sheet of ice. When you catch your reflection, you're trapped reliving your loneliest moment. The illusion can last for as long or short a time as you like, but the hollow sensation lingers even after the memory fades. What memory did you find yourself reliving and, now that it's over, what are you going to do to shake this mood?
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Posted: Thu Dec 13, 2018 3:42 pm
He was alone.
The city was foreign to him, as all of them were in this country he had not been raised in, had not learned to live in until he had been older. This country with its constricting laws and its seedy underbelly and its sweltering, sweaty, all encompassing heat.
Not that he could say much about America, considering that Russia wasn't much better, but still. The unfamiliarity of it grated at him, like an itch he couldn't alleviate no matter how hard he scratched at it or picked at it. Standing in this forsaken place with nothing but his backpack and a pair of sleekly expensive boots, staring out at the city in front of him.
Well. That wasn't entirely true. He had the Gold Card, the Platinum, and the Silver Express (he'd never understand why credit card companies liked to name their cards after worthless metals). That wasn't really "nothing," because he was going to use every single penny he had on them to fund everything about this trip.
No. Not a trip. This would be his home now.
A gust of wind blew across his face, and Nikolai Sokolovsky felt the bitter chill ghosting over the bridge of his nose, tangling in his dark hair. He was used to the cold, in more ways than one, but it didn't mean that he had to like it. The cold still reminded him of Russia and of...other things.
Other people.
All the reasons he was here now came rushing back at him, tangling together. Nikolai tried to stop the onslaught of emotions, tried to stem the sudden flow of memories that were cascading violently through his mind, but it was impossible.
Lev's face, handsome and strong jawed, with the sort of features that made him look as though he was carved from marble. A strong masculine attractiveness that was nevertheless still elegant in his straight nose and well defined musculature.
Lev's mouth, curved up into a smile that wasn't intended to be sensual, and yet it still was, the swell of his lower lip a thing of beauty in Nikolai's mind; one that he had not considered the implications of until it was much, much too late to stop himself.
Lev's eyes, blue and bright, looking at Nikolai with affection, because he had always looked at him with affection, because they had been so very close.
Lev. His best friend. His boyhood companion. His favorite person.
His husband.
Not his lover. Never his lover. That had not happened, because it had not been a marriage for love, it had been a marriage for convenience and spite, because Nikolai's father had been putting pressure on him for months, years, even, and Nikolai had not been able to stand it any longer.
His love, but not his lover. Because the love that had blossomed in Nikolai's heart had expanded so suddenly and so steadily that it felt like it had always been there but had only just now gotten the light and the nutrients that it needed to flourish and grow, and all at once, Nikolai had been lost.
Lost, and now here he was, thousands of miles away, because he was a coward.
He knew he was. There was no denying it, even as he reached into one of his pockets, fumbling out a lighter and a cigarette, placing the latter between his teeth and clicking open the former. A tiny gold flame flickered into life, Nikolai cupping his gloved hands around it to keep it from blowing out in the freezing night air, and then sucked in a grateful breath, glad for this one small, toxic thing that kept him grounded.
He had left. He had walked - no, run - away, and he had left Lev behind.
The memory ached. It hurt so badly that for a second Nikolai found he could not breathe, could not seem to draw air into his lungs, which felt constricted. His hands shook as he dragged the cigarette from his lips, and then he was crouching down with his arms around his knees, face pressed into them, dragging in cold breaths that hurt.
He had let Lev. He had abandoned him.
And now - now he was alone, and it was no one's fault but his own.
* * * * * * * * *
Gadolinite took a staggering step back from the building, the hand that had been raised to touch the glittering ice coated across its front falling free, shaking just a little. For a brief moment, he could still see the shape of his reflection visible in the clouded surface of the ice, but it was more colors and abstract blobs now than actual details.
He felt unsteady on his own two feet. He wanted to sit down, badly, but there was no where to sit, and so he stood there for a few seconds more, chest heaving, his fingers beginning to tremble more prominently. Gadolinite wondered whether or not this was a good time to go home, to hop on a plane to Russia, or to go find Lev and...
...and what, exactly? What did he expect?
They'd kissed. They'd screwed around. Gadolinite had drowned himself in every tiny morsel of physical and emotional affection that he possibly could while he was Seth, because his longing for Lev was still so powerful that sometimes he felt overwhelmed by it.
He wanted to kiss him now. He knew he wouldn't. Not unless Lev wanted it.
Lev wanted a divorce. Gadolinite was studiously trying to avoid this fact, but he couldn't for much longer, because some nagging part of his brain was reminding him that holding on to someone who didn't want to be held onto was both wrong and unfair to all parties involved.
But the idea of Lev disappearing...of him being out of Gadolinite's life, possibly forever...
Don't think about it. Stop that.
He took another step back, breathed deeply, and tried to relax.
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