Anatoly moved down the street, holding his jacket together with one hand, hiding the food he had... absconded. The young man moved off of the road, taking a side path that led off to an abandoned house. The winters were blistery - proved by the piles of snow he had to trudge through. Just a bit farther. Wind blew, howling and slamming against the ransacked house before him.
He moved up the stairs and onto the porch, to the door, quickly moving inside the house. He shivered, breathing out steam - his fingers felt numb by this point.
The moment the door had been opened, Vladimir was there, circling his brother like a vulture. At first, the fourteen-year-old said nothing, but he eventually gave up on silence. "Did you get anything? I don't see why I had to stay here..." Vlad continued talking, but it all ran together after the first two sentences.
Anatoly breathed out a sigh - it sounded relieved. "Yes," he replied, un-zipping his jacket and moving with the bag. He set it on a creaky old table, pouring out the contents. Bread - toppings, container of fruit, and canned soup.
Vladimir smiled. "It's been weeks since we got that much. How'd you do it?" Vladimir's fascination with crime would probably land him in jail... but he couldn't help it.
"It doesn't matter," Anatoly said slowly. His brother's intrigue could have been worrisome. "Knife?" he asked, pulling out the bread and toppings.
Worrisome would definitely describe the fact that the teen happened to be carrying the kitchen knife in his sleeve. He slid it out and passed it to Anatoly.
Anatoly took it from his sibling. His nose started running, and he sniffed harshly. He cut into the bread, leaving it in slices. "Get as much as you want." Anatoly's lips twitched up in a smile; he couldn't remember a time he had spoken that sentence aloud.
Vladimir grinned. Still, even with the permission, he still only took ONE, because they would need it tomorrow... if they made it last, they wouldn't have to go out again for a while. Okay, two wouldn't kill him-he took another, then looked at Anatoly.
Anatoly nodded and pried off the lid to the fruit - the fruit would go bad first. He jabbed the knife into the top Heirloom Tomato and plucked it from the blade's point with his teeth.
Vladimir-who so happened to be carrying ANOTHER knife-poked it into the can and pulled out another. He repeated the action his brother had taken. "Not bad..." Truthfully, it was better than not bad, but he wouldn't let on... It was all sort of a game.
Anatoly huffed out an amused sound, turning the knife over in his hand before repeating his earlier action.
"So, where'd you get it?" Vladimir glanced up at Anatoly. Blue eyes scanned his brother's face and he waited.
"A store." Anatoly's didn't offer any details.
"Hmmm..." Vladimir nodded. He knew his brother hadn't paid for it. It went without saying. "All right." He paused a moment. "Thank you."
Anatoly looked up, silent for a moment. He nodded and blinked.
Vladimir returned the nod. "Next time though, we go together." He didn't want Anatoly to get caught "purchasing" what they needed, and if they both went "shopping" one could always cover for the other.
Anatoly hummed in agreement. Any choice they may have had in the matter had been stolen from them - ripped away with innocence. They survived; and one day, they would be princes, and they would rule.
God bless!