something tragic about you, something so magic about you

by Ammarantas

When a little girl appears in the middle of Alina's flower shop she panics. Should she call 911? The police? She doesn't think this will have repercussions on her life, but when she meets the girl's father, a renowned tattoo artist, her life will never be the same.

i.

Koroleva has been open for a month at the new location when Alina's life changes forever.

At the moment, she had no clue that her life would never be the same, but if she looks back, she can pinpoint the day without any trace of hesitation.

She had just opened the store and because it was early in the morning, and she didn't expect customers until around nine, she took her time leaving her bag in her office, checking that everything in there was perfect. She liked this new location for the flower shop. It was in a crowded area, which meant more customers and more work, and that meant less time for her to actually set up as she wanted or meet her neighbors next door, but she wasn't planning on moving again any time soon, which meant there would be time for making friends and getting her office to look like she wants it.

After she finishes her coffee, she puts on her beautiful new apron, ties her hair up in a ponytail and starts to get the flowers out of the storage and into their respective spots for everyone to see. She likes doing this part, even if her arms ache midway through carrying the flowers, because it's a part of her day when she can just be by herself; no customers, no Tamar, Aleksei or Nadia, no one else but her and Sol, her constant companion. But even her beautiful girl is too busy snoozing in her corner to pay attention to her owner.

So this is what mornings were for Alina Starkov, florist, small business owner and dog parent, and she wouldn't have it any other way.

She's finished with the flowers. Every single one of her beautiful samples is out there for everyone to see, when she realizes that there is someone else at her store.

A little girl, to be precise.

Alina doesn't know much about kids, but she thinks the girl must be at least four years old due to her size. She's wearing overalls with a long sleeved lilac shirt underneath, probably because it's still quite cold out there. Her dark brown hair is adorned with two little bows that match the same shade of purple on her shirt, and she had the cutest shoes with a cartoon Alina fails to recognize.

This wasn't a stray kid, this was obviously someone's child. She was someone's daughter, someone who cared enough to dress her appropriately for the weather and brush her hair and…

There's a sudden wave of sadness that crashes on the shore of Alina's mind. She was someone's daughter once, before her parents died, and she became an orphan. Shaking her head, she decides to set those thoughts aside, because that is not what's important right now. Seeing as there is no one else with her, she decides to approach, because there must be someone out there looking for her, caring for her, right?

She kneels to be just at her level and when the girl looks at her, Alina gives her the friendliest smile she can. "Hi, my name is Alina."

Up close, she can see how cute the girl really is, with a button nose and round cheeks… but she thinks the most beautiful characteristic about her is her eyes. As black as a starless night and yet, very expressive; because Alina could see many things reflected in the pair of eyes that were looking straight at her. The kid seemed surprised by her sudden arrival, but she wasn't scared. Alina could see how she was comfortable, not only because of how her eyes seemed transfixed on her flowers, but also because there was a faint smile on her lips.

"Are you lost?" The girl didn't say anything, maybe her parents had rules about speaking with strangers, which was something she could understand but right now she needed answers. When the girl shook her head in a clear no, Alina felt some relief, but, even if she wasn't lost, the questions remained: Who was she? What was she doing there? Would someone come looking for her? Instead, she asked something else: "Are you okay?"

When the girl nodded in response, it became clear to Alina that she wasn't going to verbally answer, which made things more difficult to help her. She needed to look for her parents or the adult that was responsible for her, but she didn't know what to do; did she call 911? Or the police? She wasn't sure, she'd never been in a situation like this before. The girl seemed perfectly healthy and entertained just looking at the flowers, so Alina figured maybe they could just wait together. If no one came looking for her in an hour, she'd call the police or social services.

"Do you like them?" She asked, realizing that the girl was looking at her purple tulips. "Those mean royalty, because of their color, but if you look at the yellow ones, those represent cheerful thoughts." Alina started to explain, seeing as the smile on the girl's face grew with the explanation. It was easy for her to do this. She might not have a lot of experience with little kids, but flowers she knew, flowers were easy; they just needed water, sunshine and love.

Just like that, Alina realized that maybe kids and flowers weren't so different.

As she starts to show her more of the store, Alina is able to see more of the girl. She still doesn't speak, only letting out sounds expressing her happiness and delight at whatever flower she's shown, but Alina finds it that words aren't completely necessary in this situation. Kids might need to express their needs and desires, but right now she can see everything in the girl's face, so open and so unafraid. She loves that kids wear their hearts on their sleeves and feel every emotion unabashedly.

She might not know her name, who she is or where she came from, but Alina instantly likes her.

A couple of minutes passed as Alina showed the girl around her store. She was about to explain the meaning of carnations when a high-pitched squeal escaped from the girl's mouth. In the blink of an eye, the girl was no longer by her side. Instead, she was crouching next to Sol, who apparently was delighted to make a new friend. Alina smiled, watching the two being so taken by one another made her happy.

"This is Sol. She's the best girl. You can pet her if you want." She was secretly relieved that the girl had waited for her permission to pet her dog. Sol would never hurt her, but it spoke volumes of her manners and the people caring and raising her. Alina ended up on the floor, next to them, enjoying the way both dog and kid interacted with each other. Sol was completely happy to lick the girl's hands and to be at the receiving end of belly rubs, acting as if Alina didn't cuddle with her every night, and the kid was obviously on cloud nine. Her eyes were wide open and showed nothing but complete and utter happiness and her smile was so big, she could only wonder if it hurt a bit.

She was so focused on them that the noise of the door opening violently almost gave her whiplash.

"Milyena?"

If it wasn't for the fact that Alina could see very clearly that it was a man who had just said the name, she could've sworn it was an animal's cry for help. There was something about the way that his voice sounded as he said what she could only assume was the little girl's name. It was as if she could feel the desperation in his voice, the hurt in every letter that he uttered. He was a feral animal, looking for his cub, motivated only by worry and fear. And, as if the pure rawness in his voice wasn't enough, there was the fact that his eyes — black, ridiculously black just like the little girl's — spoke volumes of how he truly felt.

Because there was no doubt that the man in front of her was a desperate father.

She didn't even stop to think for a second that this could be someone else than her father. Not only because she could practically hear his heart pounding because of the scare that he suffered and the subsequent relief he was experiencing because he had found his daughter. But, also, because of the way the girl's face lit up when she turned to see him. She was just witnessing a love that knew no boundaries.

"Papa!" Milyena stood up quickly and ran to her father who was already at her level and ready to catch her in his arms. Alina was so transfixed at the moment, unable to look away and give them a moment of privacy because she was just mesmerized by the utter love they had for each other. She missed it, and in any other circumstance she would've been swallowed by bitter thoughts about how she was robbed of that, but instead, Alina found herself smiling because of the reunion.

She also seized the moment to take a good look at the man.

He was tall, incredibly so. Even when kneeling to get to his daughter's level, he still had to hunch down, surrounding her almost completely in a protective hug. He was also shaking, probably because the fear still had to completely leave his body, but she could see it in the way his arms, although hugging her firmly, were shaking a little bit. His arms, by the way, were ridiculously well toned and, while usually that would demand her whole attention, in this case, the tattoos that adorned his skin robbed her from thinking about this man's muscles.

Because now her whole attention was now directed to the tattoos that covered his arms.

She could guess he was completely covered in them, but right now all she could see were the ones in his arms because, despite the weather, he was wearing a shirt that had no sleeves, completely showing what must have been years of tattoos accumulated in his skin. He had so many, Alina had a hard time discerning what exactly was decorating his skin. She was only able to guess that what adorned his left arm was an arrangement of shadows, but that was pretty much it.

She hates to admit it, because what she was witnessing was an emotional situation, but she also thought that the father was really hot. She wasn't one to fawn over a man with a baby, but she can see the appeal in this case because the way desire travels through her body is undeniable. Not only is this man incredibly attractive with his stupid facial features that seemed carved by the Saints themselves, but he was also covered in tattoos, giving him a rugged handsome appearance, and yet … All she sees is a father concerned for his child. She's observing this vulnerable moment where he's so focused on the well-being of his kid that he doesn't seem to care who's watching.

She hates herself for looking at this tender moment and feeling slightly turned on.

Alina was so busy looking at him she didn't even realize that he was talking to his daughter. Instead of listening to the man expressing how concerned he was when he wasn't able to find his daughter, she was inspecting his face: perfectly combed pitch black hair, an impeccably trimmed beard, perfect nose, a jaw that could probably cut all the stems of the flowers and the eyes…

She felt like all the air was taken out of her lungs when she locked eyes with him, because his eyes were beautiful. The first time she looked at him, Alina was so focused on his eyes for what he was expressing that she missed completely how beautiful they were. She wasn't the kind of person who fawned all over pretty eyes, she didn't buy that crap about being the windows of the soul, she was —thanks to many rewatches of 'Pride and Prejudice'— a hands person, she thought hands were more important, and normally would tell more about a person than his eyes.

That statement, however, was not true in this case because the man in front of her had a pair of black galaxies for eyes, galaxies where Alina would happily get lost and never return to Earth. There was no denying this man had the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen, probably only rivaled by his daughter's.

"C'mon Mila. Let's go." He says, kissing his daughter's forehead before standing up and taking her in his arms.

Alina barely —and almost reluctantly— goes back to reality when hearing said words. She's standing up from the floor to introduce herself, to say something, even if it's just a simple goodbye when the man turns around and walks out of the store without ever exchanging a word with her. She opens her mouth, unsure if it's to express her shock or to actually say something, when the little girl waves her goodbye, just as they cross the store's doorway and turn right after exiting her store.

For a second, she stands there in silence, trying to wrap her head around what had just happened. If it had been a different situation, one that didn't involve two strangers, she would've sworn she'd been hallucinating —because the Saints know that she hasn't been sleeping well lately— but she knows it's real, not because she doesn't have a vivid imagination but because his aroma remains in the store. Aftershave, mint and something else she's unable to pinpoint but resembles something like paint.

But when she comes back to reality and tries to look at the situation rationally, anger settles in her stomach. The man hadn't even had the decency to introduce himself or to even thank her for keeping an eye on his daughter. She understands that he was obviously scared and when he found her, the relief and the making sure she was alright and that she wasn't hurt were his top priorities, but it was also incredibly rude of him not to acknowledge the fact that she had cared for his daughter and kept her safe during those brief minutes she left his watch.

She thinks it's silly to be angry, because the Saints know she's had even more awful interactions with others over the years. It was something of a given in her line of work because horrible clients could easily be found everywhere. So yeah, this was not her first time a situation left her with a sour taste in her mouth, but she can't help feeling slightly irritated. She was a person, not only a person but the one that entertained the girl and watched over her. Maybe if she had wandered into someone else's store, the situation wouldn't be the same.

Alina sighed, feeling stupid because the more she thought about it, the more it felt as if she was asking for a pat on the back just because she was a nice person who did the right thing. She hated when men sought praise just for being decent and doing the bare minimum and yet there she was, expecting a thank you when all she did was the right thing. And if there's something she hates, it's feeling like a hypocrite, and she was bordering that line.

But there's also something else, and she knows it and it has to do with the fact that she found him attractive, and he didn't even seem to pay any sort of attention to her. This was her ego reacting and Alina isn't sure she wants to dig deep into that thought, so she lets it go, or at least tries to. Instead of ruminating on it, she looks at Sol, who's back snoozing happily and without interruptions. She knows she should imitate her dog and go back to her responsibilities, but she knows she can't.

She knows those eyes will haunt her for the rest of her day.

ii.

As she predicted, those eyes don't leave her alone. Not when she goes to bed, not when she wakes up, not when she opens up her store the next day, early in the morning.

She hasn't talked to anyone about what happened, mostly because she doesn't know what she'd say: a cute little girl appeared out of nowhere and then her dad came looking for her, as if he were a hurricane made out of desperation and worry, just to leave without even introducing himself? Oh, and by the way, he had the most beautiful pair of eyes ever and was totally hot.

Yeah, she is not telling anyone about what happened.

She's grateful that the irritation and annoyance she felt at not being noticed has left her body, but even with those awful feelings gone, the rest remains. The fact is that she's certainly avoiding answering the questions that have arisen after the encounter, like: Why was she so taken by his eyes? What was it that made her unable to shake the image of his eyes that had practically been burned into her brain? Why was she still thinking about this? She didn't want to answer any of the questions, and she also didn't want to think about why he seemed so familiar, as if she knew him from somewhere but couldn't pinpoint exactly from where. So she tries to focus on the rest of the things she needs to do after eating her meal.

Alina's back from getting lunch with Jesper and Inej, ready to tackle the afternoon shift when Aleksei welcomes her with an unexpected comment.

"Hey boss, the fine man from next door came to leave you a package. I put it in your office." In any other circumstances, Alina would be asking questions as to what on Earth was he talking about, but in this case she doesn't. Instead, she thanks him and walks to her office, because she knows exactly who Aleksei is referring to.

At her desk there's a box of chocolates and a card. She doesn't need to come any closer to realize the chocolates are very expensive, but it's only once she opens up the card that she confirms it:

"Mila thanks you for showing her your flowers and letting her pet your dog. Thank you for your kindness towards my daughter, Miss Starkov. We hope you enjoy the chocolates. Aleksander and Mila."

Along with the card there's a drawing, obviously made by Mila, depicting the flowers she showed her yesterday. Alina thinks it's beautiful and her heart jumps in excitement. She knows she should be more excited about the Zemeni chocolates, but the drawing is what actually makes her happy. Such a small gesture but one that speaks volumes to Alina, because clearly the short time they spent together had an impact on the girl. She puts the drawing up on her board, away from the sun so that the colors don't fade and takes a picture to have with her at all times.

It's far better than any compliment she could've ever gotten because of her work.

That's the only reason why she doesn't look too much into the contents of the card and doesn't notice little details like how she never shared her last name with either of them or that the man's name seems to be Aleksander. She's too focused on the drawing, and later in the chocolates themselves to even begin to notice the little things.

iii.

Friday afternoon rolls around and Alina is still thinking about his eyes, much to her chagrin.

She has been scolding herself daily, trying to fight the intrusive thoughts and the image of his eyes that has yet to leave her alone. But even when fighting herself, she had ached to reach out, now that she had the information that he worked next door, which made sense because of all the tattoos she was able to see from their brief encounter and the fact that the store next door is actually a high end, very exclusive tattoo parlor named 'The Shadow Fold'.

It turns out that, with all the chaos from the moving and arranging everything in the new location —so that everything is just the way she liked it— she had completely ignored the detail that her flower shop was next to one of the most popular tattoo places in Os Alta, a place where you had to make reservations in order to get a tattoo on your skin. Mal always said that whenever he decided to get a tattoo, it would be there. Now Alina just prayed to the Saints that he didn't follow through with that promise. The last thing she wanted was to see him again.

The same, however, could not be said for the man with beautiful onyxes for eyes. She'd briefly entertained the idea of sending him flowers as a thank you for the chocolates, but quickly discarded it, because it seemed like a silly idea. He wasn't the kind of man one would simply send a bouquet of hydrangeas to say thanks. Just the mental image made her laugh in disbelief, so, in the end, it was discarded.

Nevertheless, she did think it'd be a good idea to finally introduce herself to her neighbors next door because it'd been a month and it was very rude of her to not have even said hello or met any of them. But, before she could actually do that, someone wrecked her plans.

That someone was a beautiful redheaded woman with a pair of blue eyes that screamed determination, as if she was about to kick anyone that stood in her way. Alina thinks maybe she's an angry customer that's on her way to scream at her because of a delivery or something related, but she dismisses that thought when the woman smiles at her, because no self-respecting angry client would smile at her like that.

"Hi, you're the owner of the shop, right?" She asks once she has reached the front desk. The smile is still there, so Alina thinks this might not be a bad thing, or at least, so she hopes.

"Yes, hi! My name is Alina Starkov, can I…"

"Well, hello Alina Starkov. My name is Genya Safin. I'm the manager at The Shadow Fold. It's so nice to meet you." The woman, Genya, extends her hand to Alina, who is a little hesitant to take it because she's been working for hours and her hands are dirty with soil and little traces of leaves. "Oh don't worry, it's just soil. It's not going to kill me."

That's the moment Alina started to like Genya, because she loves when people don't bat an eye at getting dirty.

She takes her hand and shakes it as she speaks. "It's nice to meet you too. I'm sorry I haven't gone next door and introduced myself."

"No need to apologize, we saw how crazy and chaotic things were here. I must say, this place looks incredible now, you have completely transformed it." Genya says, looking around with admiration tingling in her eyes and Alina cannot deny it because she really was proud of the work she'd put into the store.

"Thank you, it means a lot to me to hear that." She says, amused at the way Genya is looking at the place, as if it was a whole new world. And maybe it was, because if she worked at The Shadow Fold, then her store and the aesthetic was not what she was used to. She lets her look around for a moment, before turning her customer service voice on; "What can I do for you?"

"Oh, right!" Genya laughs, as if she just realized she had a mission to accomplish when she entered Koroleva. "I came here for two things… Well, really three, but since we already met, I guess there's just two more things to do." Alina raises her eyebrows, feeling completely clueless as to how her brain worked, but Genya simply smiles and waves her hand. "It's nothing really. I just wanted to invite you to the parlor, so that I could give you a tour of the place; maybe squeeze you in if you want a tattoo."

"Do you tattoo as well?" Alina asks, for the first time taking a look at her arms and the way they're adorned with beautiful, delicate almost dainty designs. A perfect complement to her natural beauty, she thinks.

"I do, actually. But I don't do it often. My passion is to boss everyone around and work behind the scenes." She says with a laugh, turning her arm now that she realizes what Alina is watching. She's always thought about a tattoo, but unlike Mal, she didn't really care where she'd get one, besides it wasn't like it was a priority for now. "If you're interested, I could make an appointment with you."

"Oh!" Alina looks at Genya and shakes her head, it's a very kind offer but one she'll have to pass on. "Thank you, but I think for now the tour will be more than enough."

"Well, if you ever change your mind, feel free to let me know." She says with a kind smile that lets Alina know that it's more than mere courtesy, she really means what she's saying. She's about to thank her, yet again, but the woman doesn't let her. "The other thing I came to do here is to look for flowers. I'd like to take a bouquet home." Her announcement excites Alina, because that's her comfort zone.

"Something specific?" Taking into consideration some people usually had an idea of what they wanted and how Genya said she likes to boss people around, it's a fair question to ask but, once again, she just laughs.

"No, this time I'll let you do your thing. It's for me to put in my living room and embellish it, so have fun with it." Alina nods at the words and gets to work, letting her new acquaintance roam around the store as she picks different flowers. Even though April is approaching, it's still quite cold and gloomy outside, so she decides to pick flowers with vibrant colors to help brighten Genya's living room.

Once she finishes, she presents the final result to the redhead, who seems pleased and happy about it; "You, my friend, have a gift. This is gorgeous." She says, inspecting the different flowers with care, before bringing them to her nose and smelling them.

"I'm glad you like it. Consider it a present, a way for me to apologize for taking too long to introduce myself and also to thank you for showing me around the parlor." Alina says, thinking that this is the least she could do, especially when Genya was so gracious to offer a tattoo appointment to Alina, despite the fact that they must be swarmed with clients and reservations. For a second she seems like she wants to object but Alina tries to project an image of strength that she doesn't think might be very convincing but at least when Genya speaks it's not to insist on paying.

"Then how about tomorrow? You close around seven, right? Come in once you're done here and I'll show you around."

And Alina can work with that. It seems like a fair trade to be able to take a peek at such a famous place, one she'd probably never be able to set foot in, but it's only granted the opportunity thanks to her new location… and a very kind neighbor.

"That works for me. Thank you for the invitation."

"It's really no big deal. You don't have to thank me, especially not when I get to walk away with such a beautiful arrangement. I have a feeling you'll see me here more often than not." Genya says with a wink that makes her smile in appreciation. "See you tomorrow Alina!"

"Change the water after four days and don't let them get direct sunlight!" Alina instructs just as the redhead waves her hand in goodbye, exiting the store with a big smile on her face.

One that matches the one on Alina's face. She's happy she's making new friends, and she's happy about what tomorrow will bring.

iv.

When she has to close the store on Saturday, the eyes that have haunted her during most of the week are nothing but a distant memory, mostly thanks to Genya's arrival yesterday. Instead of wasting time asking herself silly questions about the mysterious man, —Aleksander, she reminds herself, because after rereading the card she realized his name was right there— she's excited about looking around the parlor. She's never been to one and Genya is very friendly, and for Alina, that is more than enough to be excited when she locks her store and walks next door.

She crosses the threshold, only to find the store completely empty. No sign of Genya or anyone else anywhere.

For a second, she stands there, unsure of what to do. She doesn't have a number to call and it doesn't feel right to walk around when there's no one there. But this is still the famous tattoo parlor and a part of her itches to take a look, and she figures that, as long as she doesn't move from her spot at the entrance, she's not really hurting anyone, right?

She's inspecting the space from where she decided to stay when a noise in the back captures her attention. Maybe Genya got caught up with work and forgot. Maybe the tour can start now.

"Genya?" She asks, loud enough to make her presence known.

But the person who comes out of the back offices is not her new friend but instead the same pair of black eyes that she just stopped thinking about. A pair of black eyes that zero in on her and make her blush instantly because she feels as if she's a kid who had just been caught with her hand in the cookie jar, as if she's breaking into the store when she really was invited by someone who's not there.

Feeling embarrassed, she decides that the obvious, logical thing to say is; "You're not Genya."

She mentally slaps herself for saying such a stupid thing, but even from a distance, she can see the amusement that takes over his eyes and the way the corners of his lips faintly curl upwards. If that makes her blush even more, she doesn't want to know, she doesn't need to know.

"Sorry to disappoint." Is his answer to her words. She thinks that maybe he wants to add something else, but he doesn't, and she's unsure of what to say, so for a minute they just stand there, looking at each other.

And she has to admit she wishes she'd look better because compared to him… Let's just say it's not even fair to put herself in the same category. She's exhausted and it shows, her clothes are full of wrinkles and her jeans are stained with soil, and she's completely sure she has at least a dozen leaves stuck all over her body. Her braid is a mess and whatever hint of make up that could've been applied in the morning is absolutely gone. He, on the other hand, looks as if he had just stepped out of the runway or leaped from a magazine page into reality. Whereas his look on Tuesday was casual and laid back with jeans and a sleeveless shirt, today he's wearing a suit; elegant trousers that match the black vest he's wearing, complete with a burgundy tie and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, just to show a peak of the ink underneath.

Alina has to use all of her strength, which is not a lot after a hard day's work, to not audibly moan because the truth is that he looks incredibly sexy and it's completely unfair. She just got rid of the memory of his eyes that were imprinted in her brain and now she has a new memory to haunt her.

He clears his throat because, obviously, she's there, standing like an idiot who's very clearly checking him out, and he wants her to stop.

Could this be any more embarrassing for her? It can, and she's about to find out.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" He asks, and she decides not to pay attention to the way his voice is deep, almost velvety and perfectly matches the image he projects. She uses the little strength she has to answer the question, because apparently she's been reduced to a silent mess.

"I'm looking for Genya. Yesterday she invited me to come over to take a look at the place." She explains, thanking the Saints, she's able to get the words out without stumbling.

"I'm sorry to inform you that Genya is not here. She and the rest of the staff are at a private celebration right now. It was a last minute thing, she probably forgot to relay the information to you." He explains and Alina nods, understanding that there's nothing else for her to do right now other than leave. She's about to tell him that when he speaks again; "But I can give you a tour, if you'd like."

And she wants to say yes, almost immediately. In fact, he hasn't even finished when she knows she wants to say yes, but at least she seems to have some self-restraint left in her to wait, instead of showing her eagerness.

"Oh, I wouldn't want to impose." She answers in a tone that isn't very believable, something he obviously notices because she can see, once again, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"You're not imposing, you were offered a tour and I'm partly responsible that the person who offered it to you is not here to show you around." He says, walking towards her, closing the space between them. If she thought she was a mess while talking to him at a distance, she has no clue what would closeness do to her, and she's half dreading it, half delighted about it. "I also have a nanny that won't mind if I extend the hours."

Ah, so he was, in fact, the little girl's father.

"No, it's really no trouble. I wouldn't want to keep you from your daughter." She says, biting her lower lip because the intensity of his stare is still something she has yet to get used to, especially now that he's up close. It's nothing compared to the look he had when he saw his daughter that Tuesday, but she figures that makes sense. Maybe she's the only one who gets to see a different side of her father. Well, her and his wife, she adds, once she realizes he has a wedding ring.

She's almost mortified when, discreetly, she looks at his hand and realizes that he's a married man. Her poker face, one she didn't even know she had, is in full bloom, so at least she doesn't embarrass herself even further in front of a taken man who wouldn't even pay attention to her under other circumstances. Her new discovery doesn't necessarily make her desire for him go away but it does provide a barrier that she knows she won't cross.

He shakes his head at her words before checking the watch on his wrist. Unlike the rest of his appearance, it's the only thing that doesn't scream luxury. It looks old and beat down, which begs the question of why he still wore it when everything about him seemed very expensive and luxurious.

"It's okay. She's with Fedyor. The worst thing that can happen is that he buys her a castle or gets her a puppy. She's been asking for one ever since you introduced her to your dog." She immediately opens her mouth to apologize. She's not sure for what exactly, maybe creating a new problem in his life, but he shakes his head once again. "Don't apologize Miss Starkov, you showed my daughter great kindness that day and I don't think I'll ever be able to repay you."

Alina wants to argue that there is nothing to thank her for, but she doesn't think this is the kind of man you argue with. He's probably used to getting his way, maybe with the exception of his daughter or wife.

"Well, maybe you can start by showing me around." She ends up saying, thanking the Saints her voice doesn't break.

The smile he gives her after listening to her request makes her knees feel wobbly, but before she can even begin to unravel that, he decides to start the tour.

"Welcome to The Shadow Fold. It was officially inaugurated on the seventh of November, almost ten years ago. This has always been the original location, but thanks to the constant influx of customers and fans alike, it's almost tripled in size." He starts to explain and Alina finds herself drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. There is something in the way he speaks, calmly, taking his time and not tripping over the words but also warmly, infusing each word with purpose, as if he had to command a room and demand everyone's attention. She doesn't even know who he is or what his relation to the parlor, but she can see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice. It's impossible to deny that the man in front of her is someone passionate about the place and that same passion makes him imposing, commanding attention in every situation.

He starts walking, and she follows him, not wanting to miss a single word that comes from his lips. "Right now the team is composed of four people. This is where Zoya works. She's our lettering expert." He gestures to the first stall, where she can see every piece of equipment one could guess a tattoo artist works with; there's a chair for the artist and one for the person getting the tattoo. There's a wide chest of drawers behind the chairs, and on top of it, she can see a tattoo machine and a portfolio. She supposes that's for the clients to see whenever they come, but she doubts it's actually used on a daily basis... After all, everyone knew The Shadow Fold, their popularity preceded them.

Behind the drawers there's a wall, painted black like the rest of the store, but she thinks it's perfect because the color adds personality to the store. It's not black for the sake of black, the color is there because it's a way for the artist to both introduce and showcase more of their art. Close to the ceiling, the name 'Zoya' is written in beautiful lettering, which makes sense because, according to him, she's the expert. Then, under her name there's a bunch of drawings that range from doodles to very skilled pictures.

There's no denying that the lettering that adorned the wall was a masterpiece. She's lost in a world of letters when she realizes something; almost everything in the parlor was black; safe from the floor and few decorations, almost everything was black.

Including the man giving her the tour.

"Everything is black." She says out loud, because apparently she's on a mission of making a fool out of herself.

"Well Miss Starkov, the name is The Shadow Fold. We have to live up to the expectation." He says and a part of her wants to imagine there's a teasing tone underneath his words, but alas, she gets distracted when he resumes the tour. The other stalls are almost identical. The only thing that differentiates them is the wall that announces the name of the artist. That's how she learns that the rest of the team includes Matthias the coloring expert, Nina the piercing expert and Marie, who was learning the ropes from them. He also informs her that they usually have famous artists visit them and work with them for a while, something that helps them stay relevant.

"Nikolai Sturmhond is set to stay here for the anniversary month. Same with Botkin Yul-Erdene, he was the one who introduced me to this world." He tells her once they have looked around the store. Now they are standing side by side next to the front desk, where Alina is looking at the photos that adorn the spot. She was half listening to him, mostly focused on the photos and the way the place had evolved over time, but his words have an immediate effect on her, so she raises her head to look at him.

"You're a tattoo artist too?" She asks, unable to hide the dumbfoundedness in her voice.

He laughs in response to her question. It's not genuine, and she knows because it's borderline sarcastic, but the way his eyes darken let her know there's something there, something she'd like to know. But she's still just a stranger he had the misfortune to encounter and because of that he's now giving her a tour because of the circumstances. She doesn't need to know what lies behind his dark eyes.

He simply answers; "Well of course, Miss Starkov." But the words come out bitter, as if he was spitting them.

There's many things she wants to say to that, but instead she chooses to do the one thing she should've done since the beginning; actually introduce herself to this man. "You keep calling me Miss Starkov, but there's no need. You can call me Alina."

And she knows it's stupid, because he's married, and he has a daughter, but she wants to listen to him say her name in that stupidly sensual voice of his.

"I know. My daughter let me know once I asked her what she was doing at your store. She let me know all about the woman who showed her flowers and a dog named Sol." He explains, and she can't stop the smile that forms on her lips when she hears that, because it was nice to know that even if it was a couple of minutes, Mila had a nice time with her.

"Then how do you know my last name? I never told her that." She enquiries, mostly because she's curious, not because she expects something out of him. And yet… For a short moment she sees him fumble, as if it was now he the one that was caught with his hand on the cookie jar. He obviously wasn't expecting her question, it was obvious this was not a man you put on the spot, and yet she had done just that.

It's fleeting, but Alina feels a bit of joy at how the tables briefly turned.

"I tend to keep an eye on our neighbors. It's important for me to know who the person next door is." He explains as if it was nothing, as if the hand that runs through his soft and silky looking hair is not an expression of embarrassment. As if he's not admitting he looked her up. "You see, my name is Aleksander Morozova…"

Realization suddenly dawns on her, and she can't even begin to mask the way her eyes open up in surprise at the sound of his name.

"You're The Darkling!" She says, finally understanding why he seemed so familiar, why she felt like she'd seen him somewhere. It was because she had, she knew who he was. A renowned tattoo artist who was praised by people all over the world for his talent and his store, he had earned the name 'The Darkling' because he was an expert when it came to shadows and the use of the color black. He was able to create the most beautiful tattoos only using one shade but making it look like he used a hundred.

But this time he doesn't laugh at her, there's not even a quirked eyebrow or something on his face that shows that he finds her reaction funny. Instead, he looks somber, as if all the light in his face was taken away by her silly comment. She swears she can feel the room getting darker, but that's probably her imagination, although it wouldn't get past her that he can actually manipulate shadows or something. He's the kind of man that would probably manipulate everything, including the elements, at his will.

It was as if a wave of sorrow had taken place over his facial features and all Alina wanted was to help it go away. She never wanted to see his beautiful face assaulted by sadness.

"I used to be, Miss Starkov. I used to be." The melancholy in his voice is obvious, but she can't get herself to ask any questions. This is someone she barely knows and this is a sensitive topic. Luckily, he takes the opportunity to offer his hand to her; "It's nice to officially meet you."

She doesn't hesitate to shake it and because of that, she's not prepared for what touching him does to her, because the thing is, she grabs his hand, and she feels as if every fiber of her body has been awakened after a very long winter. His skin is warm to the touch, not clammy, not unpleasant, just perfectly warm. His hand is bigger than hers, but then again, that's not really a surprise when she's so much smaller than him and yet, it is his hand in hers that makes her realize the size difference between them. But she likes it. She likes that he can almost cover her hand completely.

She really shouldn't because there's a ring on his other hand, but she figures that as long as she's not going to act on it, she's really not hurting anybody. Only torturing herself.

"It's nice to meet you too." She says, once they've shaken hands. "Thank you for the tour. I really enjoyed it."

"I'm glad to hear that, Miss Starkov." He replies and suddenly the desire that had taken place in her belly makes her feel warm all over, including between her legs. She has no business lusting over a married man, and yet she feels as if she has no other option when he looks like that and says those words, with a hint of mischievousness that makes her feel hot even if it's still cold outside. "I'll walk you out."

She has to fight in order to keep her from screaming 'NO!' when clearly he's trying to be chivalrous but the last thing she needs right now is to be near him. "There's no need, I don't want to keep you from getting home." She says, turning towards the door trying not to run for her life, but he doesn't seem to care about what she wants.

"Nonsense. Let me escort you." He says, and she simply complies because once again she's hit with the realization that this is a man you can't say no to.

On the short walk to the door, she can't help but focus on the way he smells. It reminds her of the aroma that remained in her store when he was there; aftershave, mint and what she can now confirm is actually ink from the store. He also smells like whiskey and even if that's not her preferred drink of choice, right now all she wants to do is drown in it.

"Have a good night, Miss Starkov." He says to her once they're physically at the door. Mentally, she's berating herself for all the things she wants to do once she gets home, all the fantasies she can only fulfill with her vibrator and never with this man.

"Have a good night, Mister Morozova." She barely manages to answer before stepping out of the store. She's about to go to her car when he speaks again, making her turn around to face him.

"Aleksander, please. Feel free to call me Aleksander."

The rational part of her wants to argue that if he's asking for that, then she should remind him once again that her name is Alina and there's no need for him to continue to address her as Miss Starkov but she doesn't do that because she knows he won't do anything he doesn't feel like doing. He has made the conscious decision to call her Miss Starkov and so, she makes a decision of her own.

"Goodnight… Aleksander." She says his name because she wants to, because this is the only context she'll be able to see his reaction to the way she says those letters to him.

In the end, she's rewarded with a smile, a genuine one. One she'll treasure forever.

v.

When she steps out of her car on Sunday morning, Genya is waiting for her in front of her store. Not only is she waiting, but she's also brought food and coffee with her. She's also giving her what can only be described as puppy eyes and a guilty smile. Alina cannot help but smile at that, because it was alright. She wasn't mad or anything of the sort.

"I want you to know that I'm very sorry! The boss surprised us with reservations at an amazing Mexican place. I barely even had time to make myself presentable and I totally forgot to reschedule with you." Genya explains, once Alina has closed the distance between them; now standing in front of her store. When her new friend offers her coffee, Alina doesn't hesitate to take it even if she thinks it's not a big deal that Genya forgot. "I bought us some blinis to eat while I give you the tour now, if that's alright with you."

So Aleksander didn't tell her he'd already taken care of that. She briefly wonders why, but then smacks herself because that is not important, it's not like they did anything other than talk. Well, he did show her around, and she embarrassed herself a million times over, but then, it's not like they did anything out of the ordinary. He probably didn't tell her because he got home to his family and promptly forgot about the whole ordeal.

"Yeah, I can let Tamar open the store." Alina says, taking her phone out to quickly let her friend and manager know about the change of plans. "Done!" She announces and Genya cocks her head to the side.

"Then follow me!" Genya says and Alina does as she's told.

She watches her open the store, turn on the lights and slowly bring the parlor back to life. There's not much difference between what the place looked like last night and right now, but because Aleksander is not right next to her, scrutinizing her with his beautiful eyes, she feels more relaxed.

She's also not sure she'd be able to look him in the eyes after all the fantasies he starred in last night while she was using her vibrator.

"Well, this is the infamous Shadow Fold. What do you think?" Genya asks while walking to the front desk. She leaves Alina alone for a second there, going to the back to look for something while she takes a look around and thanks the Saints Aleksander is not there.

"It's very black." She says to Genya, once she comes back, armed with reusable plates, napkins and cutlery. Her friend laughs at the comment before she starts to arrange everything, making it obvious the breakfast is not just for the two of them. That's when Alina starts to panic, is he going to come? Is she going to endure another moment next to him? She hopes not, but she also doesn't know how to ask without raising suspicion.

"Yeah, you should've seen the original plans for this place. The boss wanted everything to be black, from the floors to the bathroom. We talked him out of it and found a middle ground." She explains before opening the bag and setting the blinis, that smell delicious, in the middle of the front desk, now serving as a table. "I hope you don't mind, the rest of the team should be coming soon. I'd like you to meet them all."

"Me too!" Alina answers, trying to cover up the fact that there is just one person she would not like to see. "I really should've come and introduced myself sooner."

"Stop it! Really, it's no big deal and you're here now."

They spend a couple of minutes just getting to know each other. She learns that Genya has always worked in the parlor, first as an assistant and now as the official manager, something she enjoys thoroughly. Alina lets her know about how she learned about plants from Ana Kuya and how she used to work for someone else before deciding to open her own shop.

She's about to talk about the first small location of Koroleva when people start entering the store. Three women and one incredibly tall man, all of them covered in tattoos. Yeah, this was obviously the crew of The Shadow Fold.

"Took you guys long enough! Alina and I were about to start eating the blinis without you!" Genya scolds them, but the smile on her lips doesn't go unnoticed, Alina suspects this is part of a well established routine.

"Nina wanted waffles." The only man in the group says as an explanation and that seems to settle it. "Hi there, my name is Matthias Helvar. Nice to make your acquaintance" Alina smiles at him and shakes the hand he's offering.

"Likewise, I'm Alina Starkov. I'm the owner of the flower shop next door." She explains before offering her hand to the other three girls.

"Huh, so that's where Mila went the other day." Says a black haired raven beauty, with incredibly gorgeous eyes. For a second, Alina doesn't know how to interpret her comment, as the woman's face doesn't reveal any sort of emotion and her voice is stern, but then she adds; "She's been telling us all about the beautiful flowers you showed her. She hasn't shut up about that."

"Well, I think it's cute." Says the younger looking girl of the bunch. "Hi Alina! My name is Marie. That one was Zoya." She explains, offering her hand, which Alina takes with a smile.

"It is cute. It's also way better than when she talks about cartoons that we don't understand." Says the third woman, already working her way through a waffle, so Alina guesses that's Nina. "I'd take flowers over kids cartoons any day. So thank you, Alina. I'm Nina Zenik. If you ever want to get pierced anywhere, you know who to call." She finishes with a wink, making Alina blush.

"When she says anywhere she means it." Genya says and Alina blushes even harder when thinking about all the places where a piercing could go. "Well, since Nina decided to start, we should just dig in."

"We're not going to wait for the boss?" Matthias asks, the only one who seems to care because the rest of the girls are already picking blinis or attempting to steal some of Nina's waffles. Alina herself was already extending her arm to select a blini but stopped, almost like a deer caught in the headlights. She was just beginning to relax, but when she heard the mention of Aleksander, the hairs on her neck completely stood up.

"No, he's with Ivan. They have business meetings and other stuff to do today." Genya explains and Alina has to swallow the sigh of relief that was about to escape from her lips. Now she can at least attempt to eat breakfast like a normal person.

"So, Alina, I can't help but notice that you don't seem to have a tattoo." Says Zoya, locking eyes with her. "Maybe you could lose your virginity with one of us."

Alina feels her face warm immediately because of the comment, something that Nina finds amusing because her laugh resonates all over the store.

"Leave her alone, Zoya, you're going to scare her." Says Matthias and when Alina sends a grateful look his way, he takes it as a sign to change the conversation. "So, how long have you been working with flowers?"

Hearing his question, Alina allows herself to smile, because she could talk about flowers all day long.

"I should warn you, I could talk about flowers all day." She says, before finally taking a bite of her blini. She'll have to ask Genya where she got them, because it's delicious. Everyone laughs at her statement, but it's Nina the one who answers in between bites of waffle.

"Honey, all we do is talk about tattoos. We'll get along great." She says and that pretty much settles it. Because after that morning full of blinis, tattoos and coffee, Alina finds new friends among her new neighbors.

vi.

By the time they've reached the middle of April, Alina can certainly say that she's friends with almost everyone at The Shadow Fold. She's even introduced her staff to the crew next door and everyone has gotten along great. And while it warms her heart to have met other people and bonded with them, she cannot deny that it takes a lot of strength to keep herself from thinking about Aleksander.

It doesn't help that whenever they see each other, he's nothing but polite and respectful to her. Something like that is the bare minimum and it shouldn't turn her on the way it does, but when the person being polite is wearing ridiculous, expensive and well tailored suits that complemented his body but also were a sharp contrast of the tattoos that covered his skin she couldn't really do much except pray that her underwear was not too ruined.

She's thankful that they don't see each other that often, otherwise she'd be more of a mess than she already was. But, thankfully for her, the man seemed to operate in the shadows so their interactions were not that regular.

She thinks that maybe she needs to hook up with someone and scratch the itch that's been bothering her, but his stupid eyes appear every time she tries to open a dating app, so she simply decides to use her vibrator; trying, and failing, not to feel guilty after she orgasms while thinking about his eyes, his hands, his beard…

Anyways, Alina is fine. There might be that little situation, but overall she's fine. The store is doing great, she's getting ready for the influx of weddings that come with the arrival of spring…

And then, one Saturday morning she sees Aleksander and Milyena standing in the front of her store, as if they were waiting for her; which is something that's never happened before. She parks her car and walks towards them with Sol at her feet, immediately smiling at the sight of the little girl. She hasn't seen her since the day they met and it's nice to see her again, especially when she looks so pretty with her polka dotted dress.

"Good morning!" She says, a little chirpier than she'd usually be so early in the day, but seeing Mila has put her in a good mood.

"Good morning, Miss Starkov." Aleksander says, seconds before Mila waves her hand at her.

"Good morning, Miss Starkov." She says, imitating her father's words but with a sweet smile on her face. This is the first time she's addressed Alina, so she takes that as her cue to bend to her height and smile at her.

"Hey Milyena. You can call me Alina, if you want. Remember I told you that was my name?" Alina can only handle Aleksander calling her Miss Starkov, she doesn't want her to feel like she has to do the same thing her father does.

The girl listens to her and looks at her father, as if asking for permission and when Aleksander nods, Mila's smile becomes even bigger.

"Hi Alina! Hi Sol!" She says, excited as if she was greeting two new friends. In a way, she probably was, something Sol seems to agree with because she barks at the girl's salute.

"It's good to see you." Alina says, before standing up and looking at Aleksander. "What are you doing here so early? Do you need some flowers?"

"No. We actually came because Mila has been begging for weeks to come and see you… and Sol." He adds, almost as an afterthought, but Alina knows Sol is definitely the main reason they are there right now. She nods at his explanation and motions for them to follow her while she finds her keys and starts to unlock the door. "We hope it's no bother, we wouldn't want to keep you from your duties, Miss Starkov."

"Why would it bother me? You can always come to the store, Mila." She says to the little girl before opening the door for them to enter. She removes Sol's leash, leaving her dog free so that she can find her spot. After looking at her dad and getting approval, Mila runs after her, petting her without a second thought. "I'm not saying that out of courtesy, by the way. She's a very nice kid and when I showed her the flowers she seemed really interested." Alina says, busying herself by turning on the lights and the A.C.

"Well, thank you for your kindness, Miss Starkov. I wasn't sure you'd appreciate us appearing here without an invitation." He says, following her inside the store.

"This is a store. You don't need an invitation to come here. But I'll extend it anyway, you both are always welcome here." She says, turning to look at him just so that he knows he really means it.

"I appreciate that." He says, looking around the store, even if there isn't much to see right now, when the flowers are still in the storage. "I would understand if that wasn't the case. Not everyone likes kids, much less a kid they don't know and doesn't speak much." He explains just as she reaches the front desk, dropping her empty coffee in the trash before facing Mila and Sol.

"I might not know much about kids, but I think she communicates just fine. Sometimes we don't need too many words, don't you think? Sometimes they complicate everything." She says, thinking about her own life and how, after the death of her parents, she really didn't want to have to deal with the world. She might not know why Mila doesn't talk, but she can relate that sometimes words are not entirely necessary. Even as an adult, sometimes words simply got in the way.

When Aleksander doesn't answer, she tears her gaze away from the girl and her dog to focus on him, who is still looking at his daughter as if she's his entire universe. However, there's something else in his eyes. Something she can't quite put her finger on. When he looks at the little girl, he doesn't resemble the imposing, stern, quiet man she knows he is; which is a given because it's obvious his daughter has him wrapped around her little fingers. But there's something else there, something bitter, something sad and dark she's not sure she wants to figure out.

"You can stay here for as long as you want. I just have to start getting the flowers out of the storage." She says, after a couple of minutes, effectively getting Aleksander's attention.

"I can help you with the flowers, Miss Starkov." He says, looking at her in the eyes. All traces of adoration and something else are now completely gone, but his eyes remain completely dark, two black galaxies she couldn't help but want to explore, because she thinks those eyes have the answer to every question she hasn't dared to ask out loud. Not to him, not to his employees and certainly not to herself.

"There's no need, you can stay here with Mila." She says taking in his appearance. He's once again wearing a suit, just like he had all the times they've encountered one another. Noticing her reaction, he takes off his jacket and then proceeds to do the same with the tie he was wearing. When he starts to roll up the sleeves of his shirt, she takes her phone out and pretends to do something with it because if she stared at him for one more minute she was most definitely going to offer to take the rest of his clothes herself.

She hates herself because she knows she's wet, and she shouldn't because his daughter is right there and the ring on his finger is reflecting the morning light and… Alina knows it doesn't matter because she's gonna go home at the end of the day and use the image of him taking off his jacket and tie to get herself off.

Once he's ready, he stands next to her, gesturing to her to show him the way. Alina knows there's no point in insisting he doesn't need to help, he just won't listen, the same way he doesn't listen to her every time she reminds him she's simply Alina. "Fine, follow me." She says, happy that her voice doesn't reflect anything from her internal turmoil. "Let me just leave this in my office." She says, gesturing to her purse. He nods and follows her as she walks, something she did not expect.

She dumps her purse unceremoniously on her desk and takes out a new apron for her to wear. She's in the middle of tying it up when Aleksander speaks; "Is that Mila's drawing?"

Alina follows his gaze towards the place where she pinned the drawing they had sent her. "Yes! I thought it was beautiful." She comments, now braiding her hair absentmindedly as she walks towards him. She hates how big he is and how he's blocking the exit from her office, especially because she has to stop when she's close to him, and he has yet to move, his eyes still on the paper. "I had never received anything like that, so I decided to keep it with me." Alina ties the end of her hair and looks up at him. "Now if you'll follow me…"

Luckily, he moves before she has to squeeze herself out of her office. She does not want to be that close to that man ever again. There wouldn't be any traces of sanity in her body if that were to happen. She walks to the storage room, reminding herself to act normal.

"This is the storage, everything we sell is inside." She explains, unsure as to why. This isn't like when he gave her a tour, but she needs to speak, otherwise he'll fill her thoughts, and she doesn't want that. Once she opens it, and he's inside with her, she lets herself look at him, briefly, because there's no harm in that.

And it's so worth it because the minute he sees endless rows of flowers, his eyes brighten up and a small smile blooms on his lips.

She's happy she gets to see him like this, clearly enjoying the sight and the smell of the flowers. He might be the dark, mysterious, imposing and polite man who's able turn her into a complete mess with a simple look —the fact that he doesn't even need to use his voice should make her feel embarrassed, honestly— but right now he's just a regular man, one that's enjoying the moment not even caring that his walls are down.

She savors the moment, not even allowing herself to feel jealousy for the woman who gets to see him like this every day. She lets herself take in this new image of him, she lets herself… No.

She brings herself back to reality and claps her hands. "Ready? I'm going to give you some flowers and then you'll follow me to put them where they belong." She explains once she's got his full attention. He nods in understanding, and she proceeds to walk towards her tulips. "Let's start with these, shall we?"

It takes them a couple of trips, but considerably less than when she does this alone. On the second walk back to the storage, he proceeds to ask her about how she became a florist, and she thanks the opportunity to fill the silence with her story, trying and failing to not find the way he listens to her endearing, because the truth was that Aleksander seemed to devote all of his attention to listening to her. The way he seems to really care about what she's saying, how he asks questions and doesn't interrupt her, instead listening to her as if he found what she had to say interesting.

When they finish with the flowers, part of her feels sad, because she's pretty sure no one has ever paid that much attention to her, which is an awful realization to come to because not even Mal's attempts to listen to her came even close to Aleksander's.

"Thank you so much for your help." She says, watching him as he once again looks around the store, his face showing how taken aback he feels by the beauty of all the flowers, now on display.

"You have a very beautiful store, Miss Starkov." He says, while turning his head to look at her in the eyes. The way he puts emphasis on each of the words, infusing them with a warm tone that falls on her ears and makes her feel like she's on cloud nine, lets her know he means it. Something she wouldn't dare to doubt, because Aleksander Morozova is not someone who gives compliments without actually meaning them.

"Papa!" Mila says, forcing them to break eye contact. She takes her father's hand and drags him towards the pink azaleas. Aleksander smiles knowingly, probably guessing this was bound to happen.

"Miss Starkov, I think we'll take a bouquet of these." Aleksander says, causing Mila to hug his leg adoringly, looking at him not only with gratitude but also with the purest love Alina could witness.

She berates herself for spying on such a private moment, but she can't help it. The way Aleksander's hand caresses Mila's face is so tender and loving while also being so careful, as if he was afraid if he touched her any differently, she'll break or disappear. Maybe he believes something like that, she ponders at the same time as she works on the bouquet. Because once she remembers the way he clung for dear life to her, once he found her in the store, she realizes that while he seemed to love his daughter very much, there was indeed something else about the way he treated her. As if she was someone fragile, someone he could lose at any given moment.

She wonders why he would think like that and then realizes that she's making a lot of assumptions about a man she barely knows, so she should stop that line of thinking right now.

"It's ready." She announces and Aleksander bends down to carry his daughter, allowing her to grab the bouquet. "I hope you like it Mila." Alina says, making the girl giggle and nod before giving her a smile. She was a happy customer.

"What do we say Mila? Use your manners."

"Thank you, Alina." She says and Alina swears she's never seen a cutest kid, like, ever.

"You're welcome Mila. I'm glad that you like it."

Aleksander bends down and lets Mila on the floor, before grabbing his jacket and tie. Instead of putting them back on, he simply looks for his wallet in the jacket's inner pocket.

"How much do I owe you? And please spare me whatever it is you want to say about not wanting to charge me. You did your work and should be compensated accordingly." He says, becoming once again the imposing man who gets what he wants. The Aleksander she's most familiar with.

She, however, cannot help but blush at his words because that was exactly what she was going to do. She wonders if she's predictable, if he's just very good at reading people or if he's just studying her. Either way, she feels like it's unfair because he seems to be able to read her very well while she doesn't have a single clue about how to read him. In the end, it doesn't seem to matter. Alina charges him, and then he's grabbing his daughter's hand before saying goodbye.

And once again, Alina stands in her store, watching Mila's tiny hand waving goodbye at her. This time she doesn't wonder if it all was a hallucination. She knows it happened, and she knows she's screwed because she's lusting and crushing for a man she could never have.

vii.

April gives way to May. And in May, many things happen in Alina's life.

For starters, she meets Ivan and Fedyor. Genya had explained that while she was Aleksander's right-hand woman with everything related to the parlor, Ivan was his right-hand man regarding his business deals and other endeavors. And then she'd learned that Ivan was married to Fedyor, who was the person who often babysat Mila if Aleksander was otherwise engaged.

She met them on a Sunday afternoon. Accompanied by Mila, who held both their hands until she saw Sol, and then they were a thing of the past because no one could compete with her dog. She introduced herself and, although it's very clear that Ivan was like a fish out of water surrounded by all her flowers, Fedyor had a blast and spent around two hours talking with Alina and ordering a bunch of flowers for their house. She decided she liked him because of his cheery, friendly nature and just for that, she was willing to give Ivan a chance.

She started to see more of them, joining some outings with the people of The Shadow Fold. Luckily for her, Aleksander remains a peripheral person in her life. Alina still sees him every now and then, but thankfully she sees Mila more, often brought to the flower shop by Marie on Genya on the weekends, usually when they're running low on customers and Alina can dedicate her attention solely to the girl. It's in those brief moments that Mila starts to open up to her. She's still very quiet but little by little she starts to speak more.

Alina only loves her more for trusting her with her words.

Nearing the end of the month, she decides to go to Keramzin to visit Ana Kuya and relax for a couple of days. Tamar almost convinced her to take a week but Alina decides to go back on Sunday, just to check that everything is in order. It's the first time she'd been away from the store and, although she trusted her staff wholeheartedly, she wanted to finish the week with them.

Her time in Keramzin is nice, something she needed and yet put off for so long that when she finally reached Ana Kuya's house she let herself relax completely. She filled her days by talking, walking and simply enjoying the bittersweet feeling that came with visiting her old hometown; she's happy to be there, but she knows this is no longer her home. Os Alta is now her home, with her beautiful flower shop and her friends, Sol and Mila…

She misses Mila, more than she should. She also misses her elusive father, who more often than not resembled shadows; always there, but impossible to reach. However, she tries not to think too much about that.

When she goes back home, she finds herself feeling a little excited about going back to work. Not only because she missed her flowers, but also because she had bought Mila a little doll from her hometown, hoping it was okay with Aleksander. She had bought some candies to share with everyone next door and for a second she contemplated buying some chocolates for Aleksander because Nina had revealed her boss had a sweet tooth, but in the end, she decided against it. They were barely polite acquaintances, she didn't want to cross a certain line, after all.

However, all of Alina's hopes and expectations shatter when on Sunday morning, Aleksander opens the door to her store.

He wore black from head to toe, which wasn't something out of the ordinary. He did wear an awful lot of black, but when her eyes landed on Mila, she realized something was going on. Ever since the first day Mileyna walked into her store, the little girl wore every color under the rainbow. She had seen her in pinks, greens, oranges and baby blues and beautiful polka dot dresses. And yet, the little girl she had in front of her was now wearing black from head to toe, just like her father.

But that wasn't all, because she could see in Mila's eyes the same sentiment she had yet to figure out what it was in Aleksander's eyes. Only that right now she didn't need to, because it was crystal clear what it was. The answer was right in front of her: both of them were mourning. What were they mourning she didn't know, but when she realized Aleksander was not wearing his wedding ring, she could piece together an answer.

Still, Alina decided not to say anything. It was not her place.

"Morning, Miss Starkov." Aleksander greeted her, and she could practically feel the sadness in his voice. She wished she could offer some sort of comfort. She wished they were close enough so that she could hug him, because that's what she wanted, to hug him.

After all these months of getting glimpses of the man she still knew very little, but what she knew was not what was presented to her right now. He was respectful and nice but also commanded every room he was in. There was an aura of strength that she suspected was quite something when he was making business deals. When he looked at her, she felt like electricity flew through her veins. He was magnetic but also kept everyone at a distance. He had walls and he liked where they were.

And now she could guess why.

"Morning Aleksander." She replied, trying to keep her voice even. She didn't think he'd appreciate coddling, especially from someone that could only fall under the category of neighbor.

"Hello Lina." Mila said. Her voice didn't carry the same amount of sadness as her father's but it was there nonetheless. She could see it in her face, the way her eyes, usually so full of life, now seemed devoid of feeling.

"We would like a bouquet of white carnations, please." He said and Alina nodded, starting right away with the request.

She picked each flower carefully, wanting to honor whatever had happened and trying to give them a bouquet that was fitting for the occasion. It was the least she could do for them on such a terrible day. It didn't go past her that he had ordered white carnations, which were very common when a loved one had died.

She didn't really need more information, but it came nonetheless when Mila said;

"Papa, we should get the blue ones." Alina really didn't try to pry, but she couldn't help watching the little girl grabbing Aleksander's hand to guide him to where the forget me nots where. "Mama would like them." She announced and Alina thought she could hear her heart break into a million tiny pieces. They were mourning what could arguably be the most important person in their lives.

"She would, wouldn't she?" He said, kneeling next to his daughter who nodded solemnly before hugging him tightly. Alina knew she should not be witnessing the moment, but she still kept looking at them out of the corner of her eye, only focusing completely on the flowers at hand when she heard Aleksander approaching.

"Can you make a small bouquet with these?" He asked, depositing a small handful of flowers next to the almost done arrangement of carnations. He had Mila in his arms and was clinging to him tightly, but she could see how it was mutual. He was also clinging to his daughter. "I would like Mila to be able to carry them."

Alina nodded and immediately set to work on the smaller bouquet.

"How much is it?" He asked once she was finished but Alina shook her head, she refused to charge him for these arrangements.

"Please don't. It's on me." She said, trying to put all of her strength into those words. This was the least she could do for them, to try to ease their pain. She didn't want him to fight her on this.

But Aleksander was tired, all of his strength seemed to have left him, so instead of fighting her and refusing to walk out of the store without paying her for her work, he simply took a deep breath and nodded, saying thank you with a voice that revealed how truly devastated he was.

Maybe that's what motivated Alina to do something unexpected, something she wouldn't really have done if her heart wasn't breaking for him or Mila. Something she'd never do if she didn't know herself how devastating it was to lose a loved one.

As he extended his free arm to grab the bouquets, she put her hand on top of his, ignoring how her own skin tingles at the contact, and looked at him.

"I am very sorry for your loss, Aleksander." Her words weren't a novelty, she was sure, but she meant them completely and maybe, maybe that was enough.

viii.

Alina doesn't see him until next Friday, but that doesn't mean he ever leaves her thoughts.

A part of her feels awful, because she's been crushing and lusting over Aleksander pretty much since they met and now his wife is dead. She knows that she didn't have anything to do with that, but still, there's a part of her that cannot help but to swallow the guilt as if she was feasting on a chocolate cake. The other part of her still feels awful, but simply because she doesn't like the idea of Aleksander and Mila going through the hardship of going through life without a wife and a mother.

She's thought so much about them during the week that, when Friday night fell on the city, and she's about to close her store, she's surprised to see him outside, as if he was waiting for her.

"Miss Starkov." He greets her and, instead of saying anything, Alina just stands there, because the words seem to refuse to leave her mouth. "I ordered some food. I'd like you to join me, please."

He adds a 'please' at the end, but she knows that this isn't something she can say no to. Or maybe she can, he just doesn't want her to. So she simply nods, the only sign that lets him know that he heard him. She closes the store and locks the door in silence before following him.

By now she's been in the back of the parlor a couple of times, but always in Genya's office. His was always closed and probably locked to prevent anyone from entering and snooping around. Once they get there, she's not surprised that the whole thing is mostly black. Black walls, black sets of drawers, black rug, black couch… The only thing that was not black was his mahogany desk, which, like the rest of the place, screamed luxury. She knows it's not important, but she can't help but think that this man has seen the mess that's her little office, how embarrassing for her.

She'd let herself wallow in the feeling but Alina doesn't know why she's there, why on Earth would he want to talk about her. He motions for her to sit on the couch and Alina feels so out of place with her dirty clothes that it takes her a minute to actually comply. She still hasn't said a word but that doesn't seem to bother him, instead he's busy pouring himself some whiskey. He goes to pick another glass, probably for her, when she finally speaks.

"I don't drink whiskey." She says, and he simply nods in response. Opening the mini fridge he keeps in his office and looking at her, waiting for her decision. "A beer is fine." He nods once again, and Alina thinks it's a little ironic how now he seems to be the one that doesn't know what to say.

That feeling doesn't last long and Alina is not ready for what comes next.

"Her name was Luda." He says, once he's sitting in front of her, the coffee table between them is full of piroshki for her to take her pick. Out of all the things she was expecting to happen, this was not one of them.

"You don't have to." She says, locking eyes with him, because even if she tends to feel small under his gaze, right now she needs him to know. He owes her nothing, much less a private screening of all the pain he must be experiencing. She's still a stranger, just a neighbor, someone who hangs with his staff and lets his daughter pet her dog. Their exchanges might be polite and respectful, but they don't really interact with each other because they want to, they interact with each other because they have to.

He doesn't have to share this with her. And yet, that's exactly what he's doing.

"My wife's name was Luda." He says, clearly not paying attention to what she just said. She lets him, because if he wants to continue she can't do anything to stop him, and she can't deny she's also curious. "She died a year and a couple of months ago. When we went to your store for the flowers, it was her birthday and I don't know how to celebrate the birthday of someone who's not here anymore."

So many things make sense now. His over-protection of Mila, the way he was more despair and worry than a human being the first time they met, the emptiness in his eyes whenever someone made a comment about a partner, the melancholy in his voice when he said he 'used to be' The Darkling.

There's bitterness in his voice and unshed tears in his eyes, and Alina wishes —not for the first time since they've met— that they were somewhat closer. She doesn't like seeing him like this, not only because she doesn't like to face the fact that he's suffering and there's really nothing she can do to stop that, but also because she has a feeling he's just simply alone in his pain. And she doesn't like that, because no one should be alone at a moment like this.

So she extends her hand and places it on his free hand, the one that's not clutching the glass of whiskey as if his life depended on it. In the past she wouldn't have done such an intimate thing, but right now she feels like he needs it, contact with another human being. She thinks that Aleksander is sad because he lost his wife, but at the end of the day he's also lonely, and he needs to remember that he's not alone.

How exhausting it must be, she thinks, for him to keep the walls up, to pretend to be strong to live up to his reputation, but also for his daughter's sake. A daughter he's still trying to raise despite all the pain he must feel inside. Alina grieves for him, but she still doesn't trust her words, so she simply squeezes his hand a little, a simple way of letting him know she's there, and she's listening.

"She was hit by a car. One minute she was alive and the second I had to explain to my daughter that she'd never be able to hug her mother ever again." Alina forces herself to not cry, to swallow the tears that threaten to reach her eyes and fall freely over her face. When she gets home, she can cry all she wants, but that is not what Aleksander needs right now. "The one-year anniversary of her death happened in late January but Mila and I weren't here. Last Sunday was the first time we actually visited her grave. We were going to bring flowers and Mila said we had to go to your store and I couldn't refuse her request because how do you say no to your daughter when it's her late mother's birthday?"

Once again, he spits the words, as if expelling them from his mouth will help him with his internal turmoil. Alina still has yet to say a thing, but her hand on his remains and before she can realize it, she's drawing circles on his knuckles with her thumb. She thinks about removing her hand, but he hasn't said anything, and he really looks like he needs a hug. This is the closest thing Alina can offer.

"I need you to know that, Miss Starkov. I need you to know that, because when I thank you for your kindness towards my daughter, I'm not talking about how you let her pet your dog. I'm talking about how you smile at her and respect her boundaries and understand that she might not talk to you, but you still spend time with her anyways, and you ask her questions and let her look at your flowers and roam around your store."

Alina listens and realizes this is what a father is supposed to be. This man has probably spent every second since his wife passed worrying and looking out for his daughter. But who's been looking out for him? The answer she already knows, and it breaks her tender heart.

"But who's showing kindness to you, Aleksander?" She asks and this time she doesn't berate herself or lets her experience an ounce of embarrassment. She meant to ask that question out loud, not only because she cares for him but because he himself needs to hear it. He needs to understand he also lost someone, and he needs just as much kindness and support as Mila does.

The question seems to catch him off guard, and he doesn't answer immediately. She lets him take his time. She's not in a hurry to leave, after all. He finishes the rest of his whiskey before answering.

"Believe it or not, I'm not a man used to kindness, Miss Starkov." She can almost fill in the blanks, because it's pretty obvious Luda was the one to provide his life with kindness.

At that moment, Alina decides to share her own story with him.

"I was eight when my parents died. A train accident while traveling for work." She starts to say, suddenly unable to look at him in the eyes, so she focuses on their linked hands. "They were my whole world. I was an only child and, on top of that, I was a very sickly kid, so I was homeschooled. My whole world revolved around the three of us and then suddenly I had no world. I had to move in with a distant relative that knew next to nothing about kids. I went from being someone else's pride and joy to living with someone who didn't know how to deal with me. And it wasn't easy. I was a complete nightmare, if I can be totally honest, but time did its thing, and we both put a lot of effort into it to make it work. We both needed patience and a little bit of kindness."

She looks up at him only to realize how his facial expression is no longer composed of dark, rough edges. The bitterness seems to have left his features and, although he seems softer, a little relaxed now that he's shared his story with her, there's still worry peaking through his eyes.

"I didn't mean to…" She doesn't let him finish, shaking her head at him.

"I don't mind." And she means that. For so long, talking about that period of her life was very difficult for her. She only opened up to Mal because she'd been drinking when they stumbled across the subject. But sharing this part of her with Aleksander is not hard for her to do, it's not even something she feels like she needs to do, it's something she does because she wants to. She offers this piece of her gladly, hoping he'll find a little comfort in her words.

Because the Saints know she'll do anything to keep him from the pain.

"I just want you to know that I know it's not easy. But you have people around you that care for you, people who would like you to take down your walls and let them help you. I know your staff so well that I consider them friends and I can see how much they care for you. You mean a lot…" She falters. What the fuck is she thinking? What the fuck is she going to admit right now? So, she aborts the mission. "You mean a lot to everyone here."

If he notices her subtle admission, he has the courtesy of not saying anything. Instead, he twists his hand, palm open to grab her own and squeezes briefly before intertwining his fingers with hers. It's such a simple gesture, but Alina swears she's never shared this much intimacy with anyone. She's also aroused by the way his long fingers feel against her own, the way he's obviously conscious of how much strength he needs to apply while squeezing her hand but being careful about it.

"Thank you for your kindness towards me, Miss Starkov." He says at the same time, his thumb gently caresses her knuckles. Alina doesn't even realize she's closed her eyes to revel in the sensation. Opening them only once he speaks again. "Please eat, it's the least I could do to repay you."

A part of Alina mourns his touch when they break their linked hands and start to eat.

They don't eat in silence. Instead, Alina tells him about her week visiting Keramzin, walking around her old town and indulging in Ana Kuya's cooking. He also tells him about himself, about the business deals he's trying to close, about Mila and her excitement for the incoming summer season. He seems a bit more relaxed, clearly trying to take her advice into consideration but still not quite sure of how he can let his walls down. Alina thinks it's okay. Baby steps are more than okay with her. She just wants to be there for him.

Once they've finished their meal, Alina proceeds to help him clean up his office before waiting for him to turn off the lights in the store and lock the door. When they are outside, he seems to realize that someone is missing. Alina bites her lower lip, trying to contain a laugh, because she doesn't want to make fun of him, but she does think it's funny he hasn't realized that Sol is not there with her.

"Where's Sol?"

"I left her home. She had some infection in her eye, nothing that some medicine can't fix, but just in case she's stayed home since yesterday for precaution. If everything's alright, I'll bring her with me tomorrow." She explains and Aleksander nods, understanding. She thinks that's it, but then he pulls a bag of treats out of his jacket and hands it to her.

Has he been carrying around dog treats all day? She should not think that's sexy. She should not think that him thinking about her dog is hot, and yet…

"I ordered food for us. But she deserves to be thanked as well, so I got her these. The people in the store said it's some of their bestsellers and Sol deserves nothing, if not the best. She's also shown my daughter a great deal of kindness."

When she grabs the bag and their fingers touch, and although it's brief, she swears she can see something in his eyes. Something that's never been there, something other than the walls he's put up but also not the usual sadness and melancholy that's reflected in them. She thought she was finally learning more about how to read him, but the truth is that she still needs to get to know him better.

"I'll relay the information to her. I'm pretty sure letting Mila give her belly rubs was not a hard thing to do, but Sol will appreciate this reward for her hard work." She's teasing a little, trying to get him to smile, and she does manage to get a faint smile out of him. "In all honesty, thanks for this. I'm sure she'll love them."

"Glad to hear that."

And they just stay there, looking at each other. Someone should say goodbye, they should wish each other good night, but nothing of the sort happens. They just simply stay in silence, staring as if this was the first time they were actually contemplating each other. Or at least, that's what Alina thinks because she's sure this is the first time she's seen the real Aleksander, the one that existed before his life was wrecked by tragedy.

That's why she decides to kiss his cheek. His skin is soft and his beard is scratchy, and she swears she's only doing that because she drank a beer but she doesn't regret it. When her lips touch his cheek the feeling is electrifying, and she knows he feels it too because of the way he takes a deep breath and his eyes close, as if he were in a daze.

She feels shy as she steps away from him, but forces herself to look at him through her eyelashes.

"Good night, Aleksander." Her voice is breathy

"Good night Miss Starkov. Drive safe." His voice, on the other hand, has dropped a few octaves and that's when she's able to identify that new thing she saw in his eyes:

Desire.

ix.

Next Saturday morning, Alina finds herself doing something she should've done a long time ago. She instructs Nadia, Aleksei and Tamar to help her assemble six bouquets to be delivered next door. Genya let her know early in their friendship that Saturday mornings were for them to bond, no customers, no work, just the staff and breakfast. So, when she opens the door of the parlor, two bouquets in her arms and flanked by her employees, she gets to see their looks of surprise.

"Hi everybody! We come bearing flowers!" She announces, excitedly as if the crew of The Shadow Fold couldn't see that they were currently being invaded by flowers.

They don't seem to care, instead they welcome the situation and happily accept the token of appreciation. Everyone is busy deciding which arrangement they want for their stall when she approaches Marie.

"Is Aleksander here? I made one for his office."

"Yeah, just make sure you knock… I'll keep this one for the front desk." She says, taking one of the vases out of Alina's hand. She smiles at her, before walking to his office, knocking just like she was instructed.

"Come in!" She hears from inside, so she takes a deep breath before opening the door. When she steps inside, she's greeted with the image of Mila in Aleksander's lap. She seems to be drawing while he's checking something on the computer, but their attention is soon directed at her, and her flowers. Mila seems shocked to see her there and quickly gets down from Aleksander's lap to run towards Alina, looking at the flowers as if she's never seen something so beautiful.

"Hi Mila! Good morning Aleksander." She says, smiling at both of them before explaining her presence. "We decided to bring some flowers into the shadows. I know it doesn't fit with your aesthetic but everyone out there seems very happy."

Aleksander looks at her appreciatively, with one of his fingers grazing his chin, as if he was thinking. "Let me get this right. You woke up this morning and decided your mission for today was to ruin the aesthetic I have imposed on this parlor." His voice is stern and cold, but it doesn't resemble the one he's used with her for weeks. If anything, it sounded fake, as if he was mocking her. When a sly smile appears on his lips, she knows he's just messing with her.

"Yes. I arrived at the store and decided that today was the day I destroyed the fold." She jokes, noticing that Mila is making grabby hands at the flowers, so she guides her to the coffee table and puts them there; all under Aleksander's stare. He's not watching his daughter carefully inspect the vase, instead his eyes only follow Alina. She thinks no one's ever looked at her like that and she knows she's going to use her vibrator tonight. "I think my mission has been accomplished. Maybe you should rename the store The Flower Fold or something like that." She says, cheekily.

He laughs at her comment. A genuine laugh, not the sarcastic pantomime she heard when he gave her the tour. This was his real laugh. He had found her remark funny, so much so that he was rewarding her with the real sound of his uninhibited, carefree laugh. Alina becomes addicted to it immediately and all she wants to do is to get him to laugh like that forever.

"Thank you for your gift, Miss Starkov. They look very pretty, even if they clash with my love for black." He's left his desk and now he's closer to her, so close she has to crane her neck to meet his eyes. He's smiling at her, before turning his gaze to Mila, who's still looking at the flowers. "What do we say to Miss Starkov, Mila?"

Mila looks up at her father but doesn't immediately say anything, instead she rounds the table and stands in front of Alina with open arms. She's momentarily confused. Is Mila asking to be held? Can she do that? Why would she want to be held? Aleksander breaks her train of thought and explains, too close to her ear, so much so that she shivers when he says:

"She wants to give you a hug."

Alina doesn't even think twice before dropping inelegantly on the floor and opening her arms for the little girl to give her a hug. Mila hugs her tightly, hiding her head in the crook of her neck and trying to wrap her in her tiny arms. Alina closes her eyes almost instantly and pets her head, not even trying to keep herself from it. This little girl has been the one that set most of the recent events in her life in motion. If someone has to say thank you is Alina. But she doesn't, instead she keeps Mila wrapped tightly in a hug, trying not to think too much about how she seems to fit perfectly in her arms.

x.

"Happy Birthday Lina! Happy Birthday Lina!"

A small, but mighty girl makes her way through the store before finding her in front of the gladiolas and promptly hugging Alina's legs, making her smile in appreciation.

When June rolled around, Alina was pleased to see more of Mila, who was now free from kindergarten and now was able to spend more time in her store, usually in the mornings before leaving for some activity. So far, Mila was learning ballet and violin and Aleksander told her that he was planning to squeeze maybe some art lessons for his daughter. But, most mornings Milyena could be found at Alina's store.

She values that Aleksander trusts her with her daughter. She also values the little moments that they share when he leaves Mila with her or when he comes to pick her up for whatever they had planned for the afternoon. She no longer considers herself a stranger regarding her relationship with him, and she also doesn't think of him as a neighbor or simply 'Mila's dad'. She thinks they have now bonded in a way that allows them to refer to each other as friends. Even if she still feels very much attracted to him.

It doesn't help that once Jesper met the man he immediately started to send her a bunch of dilf related jokes and memes. He wasn't wrong at all because Aleksander was, in fact, a dilf. But she wanted to avoid all thoughts of the sort because he was now her friend. Her very hot, attentive, polite, kind and stupidly attractive friend.

"How do you know it's my birthday?" Alina asks, bending so that she can reciprocate Mila's hug. She hadn't told them, not because she was hiding it from them but simply because her birthday falling in the middle of the week was a nuisance, and she wasn't planning on doing a big thing, just drinks with everyone and no cake was allowed.

"Aunt Genya!" Mila replies, voice muffled against Alina's body.

She should've suspected the redhead had something to do with it, but it still came as a surprise.

"Well thank you, Mila. Don't tell anyone, but this hug is the best gift I'll receive today." She whispers, conspiratorially, making the girl giggle before breaking the hug. "Dada! Dada! The gift!"

It's only then that Alina realizes Aleksander is there, looking at them through his sunglasses, with a perfectly wrapped gift in his hands. Even if he looks even hotter with the sunnies, she hates that they keep her from getting access to all his face.

"Happy birthday, Alina." He says with a sly smile and…

Alina hates him. She hates him so much for that, for choosing this specific moment to finally address her with her name. She hates that he knows exactly what he's doing because the smile he gives her is all charm and no shame. She hates how her name sounds in his mouth, how all the time she spent hearing 'Miss Starkov' only made this moment sweeter and more grandiose than it should be. She hates how he makes a liar out of her, because now Mila's hug is not the best gift she'll receive today.

No, the best gift she'll receive on her 29th birthday is her name spilling from Aleksander's perfect lips.

He hands the gift in his hands to Mila and the girl gives it to Alina with excitement coming out of every pore.

"Here, come with me, and we'll open it at the front desk." Alina offers, trying to avoid Aleksander, afraid he'll hear her thoughts. Luckily, Mila follows her like a happy duckling. When they reach the desk, Alina bends down and helps her sit on it, before putting the gift next to the girl. "You didn't have to get me anything."

"Nonsense. It's your birthday, and we are more than happy to give you this. Mila picked it herself." Aleksander says and his daughter nods eagerly at his words.

"Open it Lina, open it!" She says and Alina thinks that's the cutest demand she's ever received.

She complies, being careful and trying not to tear the gift wrapping paper that seems entirely too luxurious and delicate —she has no doubt who picked that— but she's also trying to be quick because she wants to know what's her gift.

In front of her there's a beautiful copy of one of the first floral compendiums published in Ravka. Alina has a pdf version of it, illegally downloaded from when she was barely starting to display an interest in flowers. She has always loved that book, often rereading passages just because of how much she means to her. Now she has the real deal in front of her and it's breathtaking. It might be old, but it's well-preserved and it's something Alina already treasures deeply.

"This is beautiful. I have no words, thank you so much." She says, looking at Aleksander who smiles at her. She's already trying to cope with the fact that he said her name and gave her an incredible gift, so she tears her gaze away from him, fearful of what could happen if she were to continue to look at him. So, instead, she kisses Mila's cheek to show her gratitude.

"We're glad you like it. We wanted to give it to you this early because we won't be able to see you for the rest of the day and Mila insisted it had to be delivered today." He explains grabbing his daughter by her hips, lifting her from the table and settling her gently in his arm. "I know you have plans for tonight, but sadly, I am otherwise engaged and cannot attend. I do want to make it up to you by inviting you to dinner this Saturday night."

Alina raises her eyebrows in surprise, but the answer is obvious to her; "Yes." She says, not caring if it's a friend's dinner, if it's a date, if they are alone or surrounded by their respective friends. The answer will always be the same.

"Great. I'll send you the information, then." He says and Alina doesn't even ask how he got her number. She knows the answer to that. "I hope you have a very happy birthday Alina. Say bye, Mila."

"Bye Alina! Happy birthday!" Mila says, waving her hand at her just as Aleksander walks them out of the store.

Alina does, indeed, have a happy birthday, but her mind is already counting the hours until Saturday night.

xi.

Alina leaves her Uber once the driver has confirmed, for the third time, that this is the right address. When she left Tamar in charge of the store in order to get ready, she thought she was dressing for a fancy restaurant or an upscale pub. She didn't think she'd end up in a residential area, in front of what was obviously Aleksander's house. This is obviously on her for not checking where he was inviting her. If she had, then she would've used her own car instead of paying an Uber. If she had, she'd be dressed appropriately for a relaxed dinner, instead of wearing a backless black dress and her favorite heels.

If she could, she'd turn back home to change into something else. But she was already there and there's no turning back. She presses the doorbell and waits for barely a couple of seconds before he opens the door, and she gets to bask in the image of a very domestic Aleksander. His hair is slightly messy, with one rebel strand falling on his face. His shirt is wrinkled, he has no tie and the first two buttons are open giving her a peak of all the tattoos underneath the fabric. As usual, he has his sleeves rolled up. Not as usual, he's wearing dark jeans and a part of her wants to check his behind whenever he's not watching. He's also barefoot.

Alina has never wanted anyone else as much as she wants him right now.

"Welcome! Please come in." He says opening the door all the way so that she can enter. "I hope you found the directions to be accurate. Sometimes the GPS can send them to the other street." He says, and she barely listens to him, because once she steps into the house, she realizes that she's stepping into his family home, which seems like a big deal to her.

"I took an Uber. I thought…" It feels silly to say it out loud, so she avoids his eyes. "I thought it'd be at a restaurant or a pub. I didn't really check the address." She explains before looking at him through her eyelashes. She's embarrassed for sure, but that shouldn't keep her from looking at him.

"Well I'm sorry to disappoint you." He says, and she doesn't know if he's really hurt by her stupid words because his face reveals nothing. Saints, the last thing she wants is for him to think she's ungrateful, and she doesn't value that he's inviting her to his home. This is actually far better than whatever Michelin star restaurant he could've taken her to.

"Oh no, please don't. This is perfect really. I just wished I had checked before dressing up like this."

"Why? I think you look lovely." He tells her, and he doesn't look at her body appreciatively, instead he looks at her face and it's so intense the weight of his gaze, that she knows there's just no way he doesn't mean it. She blushes at his comment but smiles nonetheless.

(The smile that blooms on her face because of his compliment is so bright that it could've rivaled the sun itself, he'd tell her months later.)

"I am afraid to tell you that this is no restaurant, although I am cooking my favorite pasta dish." He says, motioning for her to follow him to the kitchen. She starts to follow while also looking around the house. She wants to make a comment about the lack of color black when she realizes what he just said.

"You cook?" She asks once they enter the kitchen, and he goes to the stove, stirring what she can only imagine is pasta.

"I'll try not to take offense at that." He answers before stepping away from the food and retrieving a couple of wine glasses from the shelf. "There are a few recipes I can confidently cook. Although it barely matters because all Mila wants to eat is grilled cheese sandwiches."

He proceeds to ask her which type of wine she'd like and, as she leaves up to him, her mind tries to paint a picture for her.

Aleksander in the kitchen, cooking for Mila, waking her up in the morning, taking her to school, fetching her from the Kaminsky's before bathing her, reading her a book before saying 'sweet dreams'. She would like to witness that. She would like to witness everything she just thought and more, from the happy weekends in the backyard to the not so happy endless nights where Mila would be sick and she would make company for both of them.

She doesn't know when she started to want this life for herself, a life that shouldn't be hers, that should've been Luda's.

"That's her on our wedding day." He says and Alina blinks back to reality, realizing that somehow, because the universe was mocking her, her gaze was directed towards a picture of the late woman.

"She looks beautiful." It's all Alina can say, walking towards the picture. She had never seen pictures of her before, but she'd heard enough from Aleksander's friends and, every now and then, Mila would talk about her mother.

Aleksander nods, but doesn't say anything because there isn't anything to say. Alina shouldn't be saying anything else that reminds him of the fact that he no longer gets to see her anymore. So, her idea of changing the subject is to blurt out: "She doesn't have any tattoos."

But that apparently works, because as Aleksander is plating the pasta, she can hear his laugh resonate across the house. Lately, she's heard that sound more, but it's still mostly around Mila. He sounds so carefree and clearly happy, enjoying himself so much that he chooses to share it with the world; in the form of the most perfect laugh she's ever heard.

"No, she didn't have any tattoos. Nurses with tattoos don't tend to have a good reputation." He explains at the same time as he walks to where she was standing. "Would you like to eat here? We can go to the table if you'd like." He offers, but she shakes her head and sits down on her stool.

"Here is fine, really. Thank you, Aleksander." She says, waiting for him to sit down.

"I hope you like it." It's all he says before setting the plates in front of them, before starting to eat.

They eat in silence for a couple of minutes, on her part because she's busy making happy noises about the flavors she's feasting on. This might as well be the best pasta she's ever eaten, and she should let him know, just in case her moans have not made it very clear.

But, instead, Alina says something else entirely: "What's your favorite tattoo?"

She expected him to mull over the question. After all, the man was probably 85% covered in ink and even if that wasn't the case, he was the type of person to think before he spoke. That was not the case here.

"A butterfly Mila drew. It was one of the first drawings she made that was something else other than a blob. It's in my left ribs, Genya did it for me." He explains and Alina can't help but blush at the comment, because she wanted to see it, but it was obvious that wasn't going to happen.

And yet, she wanted it to happen. She wanted to see the rest of his body, if it would be as delicious as she thought it was. She wanted to become an explorer, an adventurer of sorts and see every tattoo he's ever gotten, hear the story behind every single one… She wanted to kiss them, a baptism of sorts. She wanted to feel them, wondering if he'd shiver under her touch.

"Alina…" His voice yanks her out of her thoughts and her eyes instantly find his, as black as ever, but now she doesn't think they're a black galaxy, now she thinks there's fire behind them. She would call herself crazy, justifying it by saying she's protecting her own desire but the way he says her name, how his voice has dropped a couple of octaves, how his voice is warm as honey makes her think the desire she's experiencing is not a one way street only.

He looks at her, and she doesn't see the sadness, the despair, but she does identify longing. A part of her doesn't want to find out why, because if she finds out there's not going back. And they both know it.

"Do you have any tattoos?" He ends up asking, and even if it's clear that that was not what he was planning on saying. She thinks it's for the best. Whatever he was going to actually say might have gotten them into trouble.

"No." She answers with a smile, trying to untangle herself from the web of desire she's been twisting herself in. "Although, it's not like I haven't given it a thought. I'd like a tattoo to commemorate Sol or a drawing of my favorite flowers, to always keep them with me, even when I'm not around flowers..."

"There are always flowers for those who want to see them, Henri Matisse said. I think… I think there will always be flowers for you, Alina." She smiles at his comment, warmly, thinking about how this man could know that Matisse quote and recite it to her as if it was nothing, when it means a lot to her.

He doesn't seem to notice the importance of what he did and soon they are talking about their respective businesses, like how Genya is fighting to have more flowers inside The Shadow Fold —Aleksander blames Alina for that surge of events—. He also tells her about his other business deals, how he's backing up new artists and developing a merch line that's been demanded for a long time by fans and clients alike. If everything goes well, it'll be out to celebrate the ten-year anniversary. He seems to come alive when talking, and she's so into him, practically consumed by his passion, that she doesn't do much other than listen.

It's only once they're eating dessert, a decadent basque burnt cheesecake that he had ordered because it went beyond his culinary skills, that he brings the topic of tattoos again.

"If you ever decide to get a tattoo, feel free to tell me. It doesn't matter when." He says, before finishing his piece and going in for another one, clearly feeling uninhibited because Alina knew about his sweet tooth.

"I thought you weren't tattooing anymore." She leaves the spoon on her plate. She's not nearly done with her first slice, but this seems like a big deal, especially when Aleksander seems surprised by her words. "I heard Genya and the others talk about it… I also follow the instagram page and there's not a single photo giving you credit for a tattoo. I just put two and two together."

He nods and mirrors her behavior; dropping the spoon next to his unfinished second piece and turning slightly just so that he can face her. Just like that, they are face to face and the charged atmosphere that surrounded them when they were just starting their dinner is back. As easy as the turn of a switch, she can feel herself being drawn to him, as if she was thirsty and he was the only body of water available for her.

And then, just when she thought she could try and get everything under control, swallowing her desire, keeping every single one of her feelings under lock and key, he decides to speak:

"It would be an honor to tattoo you, Alina."

The way he says those simple words makes her realize that maybe her desire is not one-sided. His voice is strong and doesn't waver, despite how hard it must be for him to even think about holding a tattoo machine after all what's happened and yet, his voice only transmitted reverence, as if the idea of her body being tattooed was something sacred, and he was just humbly offering himself to do so.

As if he wasn't one of the most famous tattoo artists out there.

As if she would say no to him.

As if she wasn't burning with desire just for him.

It also dawns on her how his statement is the most romantic thing someone's ever told her. Technically, it's not even a declaration of feelings or even a romantic proposal and yet, it feels even more intimate, more personal. He was offering something to her, something that had been, for many years, his passion and joy; he was offering after a long time of not tattooing or even being able to hold a tattoo machine in his hand. He was offering despite his own situation, just for her.

Mal had said he loved her, Mal had even proposed to her and yet, it is now, hearing Aleksander say that it'd be his honor —his! As if he wasn't The Darkling, a world renowned tattoo artist— to tattoo her skin. Anyone else could've offered her the world, and they couldn't even come closer to what Aleksander was offering her right now. If she wanted it, if she asked him, he'd be the one to tattoo her.

Without thinking, she approaches him, closing the space between them. The heels give her the perfect height so that she's in front of his face. Being able to be face to face without craning her neck for the first time since they met. She doesn't kiss him, not immediately, instead she simply looks at him, studying him as if this was the first time she's able to see him.

The expression lines on his forehead, his long eyelashes, the lines around his eyes, the bags under those black galaxies, his lips… She's giving him an out, she's basking in his beauty, but she's also giving him the opportunity to back off and gently let her know he's not interested. Instead of doing anything of the sort, he simply cups her cheek, gently caressing it.

She takes that as her cue to finally close the small space that separates them and dives for his lips. Lips that are soft, just as the kiss itself is. She expected it to be different. He's so imposing, so commanding, so magnetic that she expected the kiss to be completely fiery and all consuming. But instead, he is soft, like he's just as afraid as she is. She doesn't mind because it might be soft but she likes how his hand remains on her cheek, and the other finds his way to her waist, keeping her close. She likes how she's finally able to run her fingers through his smooth hair.

She briefly breaks the kiss, to get some air, but he doesn't let her, pulling her again for another one; one that doesn't resemble their first one in the slightest, because this time Aleksander doesn't hold back, he tips her head back and kisses her like he was a hibernating animal, and she just woke him up after a long winter. He's kissing her, but he's also feasting on her.

Alina cannot even form a coherent thought right now. She doesn't know who she is, where she is or what she was doing before her lips touched his. For all she knows she was sent to Earth to kiss and be kissed by this man who seemingly had one goal and one goal only: to scrub her brain out of any possible thought. And he was excelling at it.

When they have to break the kiss because of their need for air, he rests his forehead on hers, looking at her face reverently as if he couldn't' believe what was happening. She smiles at him and twists her face slightly just to briefly kiss the hand that's so lovingly touching her.

"Alina…"

He had just recently started calling her by her name, and she was just realizing what a big mistake it was because hearing him say it with his voice was like a drug. She was becoming addicted to the way he said it, so differently than anyone else.

"Just kiss me Aleksander." She all but pleads, with a voice that's so consumed by desire she hardly recognizes as her own.

He smiles at her and happily complies.

xii.

He doesn't let her call an Uber, insisting on driving her home himself. She doesn't fight him on that, she's happy to extend their night even for a little longer.

The drive itself is quiet, but the second he pulled out of his garage, he took her hand on his and didn't let go of her until he parked outside her building and opened the door for her. She wasn't really surprised by the gesture but it made her feel warm and fuzzy all over nonetheless.

He walks her to the entrance, but steps aside at the last minute and, without saying a word, he pulls her close and kisses her again. It's not a sweet good night kiss, it's just a continuation of the kisses they shared at the house, as if he's mission was to send her home hot and bothered because of him. She doesn't mind, not really. After months of fantasizing about him, she's finally getting to feel his firm body under hers, the way his stupid lips make her see stars, the way his hands caress her face and pull at her hair.

"Aleksander…" She breathes when they have to reluctantly separate. He closes his eyes and rests his forehead against hers, trying to breathe like a normal person before opening his eyes and speaking.

"Call me Sasha." He says, but Alina knows that even if he's still standing in front of her, he might as well be on his knees begging her to use this name for him. He's begging as if she were a Sankta, and he needed to hear her absolve him of his sins. So she does just that and calls him Sasha, with her voice husky and lower-pitched. His eyes open up with desire, as if that simple gesture had the power to turn his world upside down. Alina basks in the image of this man, this magnificent, larger than life man, looking at her like that, and then she goes back to his lips, kissing him in a way that lets him know she's no Sankta, and they are just a couple of sinners wanting to consume each other completely.

This time, when they break the kiss, he seems to have something in mind.

"Alina, I'm a widow."

They haven't talked about what this means for them, and she knows if circumstances were different, there wouldn't be any sort of pressure to talk about it after just the first date. But she doesn't care, she wants him and if she needs to make that clear tonight she'll do whatever it takes.

"I know." Is all she says, hand still resting on his chest while he holds her head with all the care in the world.

"I have a daughter."

"I've met her." She answers, because it doesn't matter what he says, she's going to make it clear to him, she's all in.

"Alina, I'm older than you."

"I don't care, Sasha." She's starting to realize where this is heading, but she will stand her ground and do all it takes to make him understand.

"I'm broken."

Now it's her turn to cup his face with the same reverence and care he's done with hers. If he's going to try and scare her off, she's not going to let him. He might be The Darkling, and he might be used to dictating orders and having all his desires met, but he might as well have met his match in her, because she's not going to back down, not from this.

"Stop it. Nothing you can say right now is going to make me leave or want you any less. Because I want you, I've been dreaming about this for months and even if I'm embarrassing myself by admitting that I don't care. To me, it's more important that you get this; when I kissed you I did it knowing very well who you are and what's at stake. I kissed you to let you know that I'm in. I waited for you to reject me, because I could live with rejection before the kiss, but now you're not getting rid of me. So stop that, I'm not going anywhere."

What a sight she must make. A tiny woman in heels trying to make a man twice her size understand that he needs to stop fighting her.

Understanding floods his eyes, so she smiles at him, happy that he's not fighting her, that he's accepting of the situation. He smiles back and kisses her forehead, so she seizes the moment to hug him.

"I'm not used to doing things halfway, Alinochka." He murmurs against the top of her hair, making her chuckle because she already knew that, but it's still nice to hear.

"Good thing that I don't either." She says, feeling safe and warm against his chest. Not wanting to let go of the hug, not wanting to let go of him, not yet.

xiii.

Two weeks after Mila's school year starts, Aleksander makes good on his promise and tattoos Alina. They take advantage that Mila is at school and the flower shop closes on Mondays, so Aleksander clears his schedule without thinking twice about it, making Alina smile in anticipation.

They've been discussing it for quite a while, usually in bed when Aleksander takes advantage of their naked bodies and starts to kiss her everywhere, pretending that he was suggesting places for the tattoo instead of simply admitting to being a tease. Despite his campaign to have the tattoo on the side of her torso, conveniently close to her breast which Aleksander then proceeded to kiss, she had decided to have the tattoo on her wrist.

Alina smiles, remembering that night fondly. It was the first time she'd slept in his house with Mila a couple of doors down. She liked it, it felt right to be able to finally fall asleep next to him, feeling safe in his arms. She had enjoyed the sex, as she always did, but they hadn't had the opportunity to fall asleep together until that night. Because of that, she had also enjoyed waking up and having him there, being the first thing she saw in the morning was glorious. If anyone could see him like she saw him in the morning; the infamous Darkling with bed head and sleepy eyes, clinging to her body, drawing her as close as he could possibly have.

"What are you smiling at?" He asks, looking at her over his shoulder. He's still finding the right colors they had agreed upon. This is The Darkling, a tattoo artist known for his mastery of the color black. An artist who hadn't even picked up a tattoo machine in almost two years. And there he was, mixing colors and looking for his favorite machine to tattoo her with, just because she had asked him too.

"Just remembering our first sleepover." She says, feigning innocence, but Aleksander doesn't buy it, muttering 'minx' under his breath before finishing with the colors and approaching her. "And thinking about our second one." She added, referring to the one that happened this past weekend, in preparation for today because he was not going to tattoo her at The Shadow Fold. Instead, he guided her to his personal studio, on the lower level of his house. He chose a comfortable environment for both of them, and she agreed to it because it would give them privacy. She knew how much this meant to the both of them.

"I was thinking about our future ones." He says, kissing the tip of her nose before motioning her to sit down. Once she does, he starts to prepare everything and all she can do is watch him, amazed at his precision and the way he moves, as if he was back at his natural habitat and instead of being afraid after all the time that passed, he was simply welcomed home, moving as if this was his nature. He puts on his gloves and starts prepping her skin with the most utter care in the world. Once he's done, he lifts his head and looks at her. "Are you ready?"

She smiles at him and nods, eager, excited, happy that she's doing this with him.

"Yes, yes I am." She says, biting her lip as if that were to conceal the excitement that runs through her body. He smiles at her and goes to grab his tattoo machine. He's about to test it when Alina puts her hand on top of his, making him shoot her a confused look. "I just wanna know if you're ready as well."

The confusion disappears from his face, and she can see the adoration in his eyes as he nods. "Yes." The conviction in his voice makes her lean in and give him a quick kiss. He seems all too pleased by it, smiling at her as he starts to work on her skin.

He moved as if he was a General and this was war. He was efficient, quick, and just perfect. She didn't even feel the need to talk to him, she wasn't bored, she was completely mesmerized by the way he moved. Other people might've been rusty after almost two years without doing this, but Aleksander wasn't; this had been such a part of his life that coming back was easy, because he had this in his veins. He took his time, but in the end, Aleksander was a tattoo artist at heart.

She was so thankful she could see him like this, that he wanted to share this part of his life with her.

The only sound in the room comes from the machine, but every once in a while, he asks her if she's alright, if she's in pain, if she wants to stop. He might be The Darkling, but when he asks her, she can see the softness in his eyes, the care in his voice, the devotion towards her. Her answer is always negative but his care remains every time he asks.

Forty five minutes after he starts, the base of the tattoo is ready, so Aleksander decides to take a break. He takes off his gloves and stands up from the chair to stretch his legs. He walks around the studio, but she remains in her chair, inspecting the art that now adorns her skin. They discussed the tattoo endlessly, but now that it's real and it's on her skin, she thinks she's never seen something so beautiful, something that could only be rivaled by the tattoos on the man that did this for her.

"Did I hurt you? Are you okay?" He asks, kneeling next to her, all signs of worry in his face and in his voice. For a second, she's confused, not understanding what prompted his questions, but when his thumb touches her cheek to wipe away the tears, she understands.

"Oh Sasha, it's beautiful." She explains, and he sighs in relief, dropping his head on her knees, making her laugh despite the tears. "I've seen your work but this is beyond anything I've ever seen and it's not even finished. You should do more work with color Sasha, it's amazing."

"Oh no, Alya. This is just for you. I have no interest in doing this for others." He says, lifting his head to look at her. She uses her non-tattooed arm to caress his hair gently. What an honor to be tattooed by this man, what an honor to be in a relationship with him, what an honor to… No, it's too soon for that.

He's still on his knees, a sight that's not new at all —'I like to be on my knees for you' he said the first time they had sex— and yet every time she looks down at him still makes her feel giddy. This man, who's terrifying, who's commanding, who can be ruthless, on his knees with adoration spilling from his every pore, just for her.

She wonders if in the future he'll be on his knees for a different reason, but right now she's content with what they have, with what they're building.

"Just for me Sasha?" She asks, needy, greedy for a confirmation of his words.

"Just for you." He replies, lifting himself just enough so that he's able to kiss her, sweetly, a way for him to seal his words to her. But that's not enough, she wants more.

"Do you promise?" She asks, rubbing their noses together, a coy smile on his lips lets her know he knows what he's doing. But by the way, he lifts his hand to caress her face. She knows he doesn't mind one bit.

"I promise you, Alya." He whispers, looking at her intently. Where she once saw two black galaxies where she could get lost and never come back, she now sees her future, the rest of her life. Who knows if he'll propose to her one day, but that promise he makes while on his knees, in the middle of being the one —and only!— to tattoo her body, lets her know all she needs.

There's a future for them, one where she's the recipient of all his promises. There's a future for them, and she silently promises him it'll be full of happiness.

FIN