Interlude - Choices & Choosing

“I’m not sure what I know about you.”

Irina had been waiting for that... Her eyes didn’t waiver from the book at her fingertips. She had little luxury in reading books of Kindles and tablets and what have you, especially when there was Robin laying beside her. These were cherishable moments, because it wasn’t just the sensual frenzies that drew her to the pink haired leader of the wayward, the free. Of course they didn’t hurt but it was the moments of eating together, of warm expression by ginger touch. The way the silence formed about them for long stretches of time and yet they both seemed to embrace it as willing as the other.

This wasn’t Robin asking however, Irina mused in her own head. She was sure at this point that she was dating for two, or perhaps one point five? No. Two. Like two different functions, the ‘Robin’ residing within ‘Vanity’. Robin taking in the data, but Vanity was the one to process, to execute. Or perhaps Irina was humoring herself in her head to keep from answering the question yet, comparing people to code. She found her lover’s eyes glancing back at her, curious and as to the point as ever.

“We’ve shown a lot of carnal affection to each other for knowing so little,” Irina finally answered, fingers dutifully flicking a sparse pink lock from atop Van’s forehead. Her eyes trailed upward to the ceiling fan and then forward to Irina’s bookcase.

Not that Irina could really blame her. The room was sparse; it had all the marking of someone who had only just learned how to stay in one place. The only stab at decorating that had been taken was new and rather hideous paisley curtains as well as a bookcase that was half heartedly stocked. The rest of the goods sat in a half-closed cardboard box as though the thing refused to share the rest of the books.

Irina closed the book she had been reading in bed as the pink haired priest spoke further.

“You’ve mentioned what you know about me, how much you know about me but there’s less of you to go on. You just got a larger stake in that small company you work at with Stephanie,” Van noted. The recent promotion had been cause for celebration in the most primal of fashions; Irina usually wanted to make sure they did... Something first, anything to lead away from their foundation of romance being built entirely on physical lust.

There was room for it.

Just not all of it, and Irina was wont to believe Robin felt some aspect of the same.

“You want to know more than surface things. More than just my favorite meals, how my day’s been, the inner workings of racquetball,” Irina offered and her eyes stared through the ceiling and watched something playing out in her own head.

“You are not comfortable with someone knowing as much about you as you them?”

Another statement as unflinching as the last. For likely the first time Irina would have looked off-guard to Vanity. Unsure truly, her eyes waving down and her featured slightly abashed. Perhaps it was one of those inconvenient truths that the blonde had to admit to. Surely it was the true heart of the matter. Irina held the flat of her palm out to Van, inviting her touch. Their fingers intertwined and Irina spoke softly.

“You said that you are not entirely sure why you have some strong affection to me. There’s so much loathing for the planet itself inside of you, and sometimes it sweeps to every single man, woman, and child; the ignorant little igrushki that they are.” Vanity listened intently, her blue eyes seeming to stop Irina for moments at a time. Blue like aquamarine beryls. Blue like compressed ice. Blue like what blue should be. Blue as a standard for what all other hues of itself should follow...

At least Irina thought as much.

“Those sort of feelings, those thoughts were stricken from me and the place they laid was rend raw to the point of scabbing over. I lived for years barely as a person; I was more an asset than anything else. An able little thing whose fingers were quick enough for typing and eyes were sharp enough to observe. In time no amount of binding stopped puberty and I was put to other uses besides the former once I came into myself.” It was not the memories of being shunted from Ryazan to Moscow day after day and surrounding districts.

It was still Belgrade.

It would always be Belgrade.

Irina could swear she was hearing gunfire for a moment before Vanity called her attention. She might have looked as though she was just pulling herself from a trance.

“There’s no room for rebellion?”

“For a time you are a rebel in your own mind because that is the only place you can be. Your fingers are theirs. Your eyes and your tongue are theirs. Your body is for whomever they will tell you, at least for that evening.”

Those same blue eyes watched her with a hint of disdain. Irina could see it with her eyes scanning Van’s, feel Van’s fingers fight to clench within her own.

“I always thought Russia should be where the end of the world started,” the pink haired girl noted without an ounce of sympathy etched on her features. Vanity speaking on behalf of Robin, Irina thought to herself. “The pinpoint of where the fire absolutely spread, where the earth began to ripple, for human life to apex right there.”

Irina half-smiled fondly, her fingers escaping Vanity’s... Robin’s, to stroke her cheek as gently as down feather. Van didn’t freeze this time, at least not entirely. There was eye motion.

“In time I was free, free of them. I did enough lying for them, destroying for them, degrading myself for them, killing for them to warrant me going out into the world a resource no longer. It was a gift to continue living I suppose. I little by little am finding I enjoy the light comforts in life... The feel of the paper of a good book between your finger and thumb, the warmth of someone else’s skin, the thrill of casual athletic sport. I can enjoy them even more because I know that I chose them. They were not chosen for me.”

Vanity watched her in contemplation. Was that to tell her a little more about herself? To talk about what they had? Irina took this moment to lean forward, her forehead against Van’s as she spoke very gently.

“You do have me and I am happiest to say I chose you.”

They embraced. Tenderly at first before more surging and present appetites took over. The book could wait Irina thought as fabric left skin.

This was now. This was choice. This was freedom.