Rating: R
Fandom: Night Watch (bookverse)
Pairing: Anton/Kostya
Disclaimer: Sorry to say I own neither Kostya nor Anton. But I'm over it.
Author's note: I haven't written anything in quite a while now. Not slash, anyway. Writing this was therefore a real challenge, and I can't say I enjoyed every second of it. But now that it's over and done with, I'm glad I got through all those rough spots.
This piece is a birthday present for my beloved cousin. Here's hoping she'll like it.
Waste
I got out of bed early. Nowadays I find it harder to keep track of these things, but a quick look at the clock radio told me it was 3 PM. My head heavy and buzzing from the previous night's vodka marathon, I pulled my clothes on, not even trying to care about what I put on – just grabbing the clothes at hand, or rather, lying on the floor beneath the bed. Staggering into the kitchen, I glanced briefly into the mirror in the hallway.
The mirror, as always, greeted me with brutal honesty: a gloomy, thirty-something boozer wearing tattered old jeans and an equally old shirt that, if memory serves, used to be white sometime long ago. Bags under the eyes the size of minor asteroids and hair like a magpie's nest. Wasn't I just a sight for sore eyes…
I didn't stop to admire my doubtful appearance for long, but moved on into the kitchen. I almost tripped over a pile of old newspapers clattering the floor, and found my balance again with extreme difficulty. The thought of fixing my hangover by Other means occurred to me, but that would've been a waste of Power. Instead, I decided to go looking for hair of the dog that bit me.
I must've really had a party the night before, because the liquor cabinet was completely dried out. Not a single drop of brandy, not a smidgeon of scotch (though I strongly suspected Semyon to have pulled his weight in emptying my reserves last weekend), and, of course, no vodka left. No wonder I felt like the source of all depravity.
A look in the fridge confirmed my suspicions – that after thirty odd years, I still hadn't learned how to shop for food properly. The only things left in there had either evolved into a new, greenish life form or, as were the case with the sad heap of potatoes stashed on the bottommost shelf, had taken to growing a set of exciting new extremities.
For a split second, I pondered what Zavulon must've thought when he had entered my apartment. Here's someone who doesn't much bother to take care of himself. Who lives in absolute filth. And for what? A Dark Other would never lower himself to such living conditions. Yet I had a feeling Zavulon would never give up on me someday slipping up, and sliding over that invisible boundary between Light and Dark. His resilience was probably one of the many reasons why he'd managed to top the Moscow Day Watch for as long as he had. He was a cunning, brutal, incontrovertible genius – in short, he had all the qualities of a good leader. Just as Geser did.
I gave a deep sigh, my eyes sliding of the pitiful contents of my fridge. How was I supposed to help other people, when I couldn't even take care of myself?
My shift didn't start until 10. Normally when I woke up too early, I would head into town, have a look around or visit Sveta, but today for some reason or other, I didn't feel the least bit inclined to. I knew that if I didn't show, she'd probably be worried, and with everything that was going on, nobody could blame her. Call me insensitive, but seeing Svetlana in my current condition wasn't something I yearned for. She'd be all over me in seconds, taking care of me, asking how I was, the whole nine yards.
She'd rather die than admit it, but Svetlana is the very image of motherhood. And from time to time, I just get nauseous from her trying to make me feel better, wanting to listen to all my troubles and make everything alright. I suppose I should've felt grateful there was someone who cared, but I didn't need anyone to straighten me out – that was my job, right? Just to be myself, allow myself to feel what I was feeling…
That I was drowning in self-doubt, choking on the concepts of right and wrong.