Kai stared at the clear liquid in his glass blankly, trying – and failing – to get his head to stop spinning. It wasn't the alcohol that was making him feel dizzy; he wasn't an idiot, and he knew how to handle himself when he drank alone. It wasn't even the quiet of the apartment, or the fact that he hadn't spoken to another human being all day. If anything, that was the part he was most enjoying. No, he had a splitting headache that had started long before the twenty-sixth had dawned, and he was slowly coming to understand why.
He missed Anastasia.
It hadn't even been twenty-hour hours since he'd last seen her, and he was already itching to pick up his phone and call her, or even text her, just to hear her voice or read the words she wrote. It was stupid and cliché, and he was cringing at himself for even thinking it, but there was no other explanation for his wandering thoughts. He had never spent this day thinking about anyone except his parents, or wanting to do anything except sit quietly in the apartment where they'd last been a family and go through the mementos he had allowed himself to keep: a few photo-albums, his mother's old sketches still pinned up to the wall next to the TV, and his father's books collecting dust on the other side. For the past five years, ever since he'd learned his grandfather had never sold the apartment, he spent the day locked up and trailing through the halls like a ghost, picking apart memories. It was routine, it helped him remember them, and it was normal.
Now, all he wanted to do was see Anastasia.
Downing the last of his glass, Kai picked up his phone, switching it on for the first time since he'd texted Anastasia a little after midnight. Immediately, notifications flooded his screen, and he raised his eyebrows. Among the various emails and alerts, Anastasia had sent him twenty text messages since that morning, and it was barely four in the afternoon. He scrolled past a few quickly.
AN: Hey, I'm assuming your phone is switched off, but just in case it's not I wanted you to know I'm thinking about you today. Miss you. X
AN: I was just kidding about the whole cake and balloons and singing thing, btw.
AN: Yes, I'm definitely less mad at you today than I was last night. Absence totally makes the heart grow fonder. Just don't make this a habit.
AN: Oh my God, I think Tala is naked in my apartment. I'm going to scream.
AN: False alarm, he was not naked when I saw him at breakfast, but at some point in the night he definitely was. I think I need to move out.
AN: I'm going to take the day off in case you decide at any point to tell me where you are. No pressure (maybe a little).
The rest of the messages consisted of the same random updates – Hilary had stopped by to take her to lunch, Alice and Tala had disappeared for the rest of the day, and her most recent message, sent only fifteen minutes ago, said she was taking a nap and that she missed him. Again.
Kai groaned and dialled the only number other than hers that he knew by heart, holding the phone to his ear loosely. When the line connected, he held it away.
"What the hell?!" Tala was yelling, and Kai rolled his eyes at his friend's dramatics. "I've been trying to get you to call me on this day for years, and Anna sends you a few texts and you cave?!"
"I did call you and not her," pointed out Kai.
"You only called me to check up on her!"
Kai rolled his eyes. "Well?"
"She's fine," said Tala gruffly. "She looks like someone kidnapped her puppy, but she's not crying about you, if that's what you're wondering. You'd be doing us all a favour if you cut your mysterious mission short and came home, though."
Kai shook his head slowly, then stopped when he realised Tala couldn't see him. Maybe he had had too much to drink. "Not yet. I'll come back tomorrow."
"Then why did you call me?"
Kai was silent, and Tala made a noise of impatience when he didn't answer. Kai took a deep breath. "I miss her," he said quietly.
Tala let out a low whistle. "You're a dick," he said. "Just call her and tell her that, moron."
"I don't know if I –"
"Trust me, you want her with you right now," said Tala. "You turned on your phone just to see if she'd tried to talk to you, even though you told her not to. I know you have a system for today, but your system is clearly bogus, Kai. Just forget it and call her. Or go see her, I don't know. But do something."
Wasn't that what Anastasia was always saying? That trying to do something, anything, was better than him not trying at all? Kai hung up and put his phone back on the coffee table, staring at it once again. He could call her, he knew that. Or even text her. It would ease the weird feeling in his chest that told him he missed her, maybe even make it go away. He wasn't sure anymore. Before he knew what he was doing, he had dialled her number and was holding the phone up to his ear.
It rang six times before she answered. "Hello?" she said sleepily.
"Hey."
"Kai?" she sounded much more awake now. "Hey. Are you okay? I didn't think you were going to call."
Kai snorted. "You left me twenty messages."
"Well, yeah, but I didn't think you'd see those until later," said Anastasia defensively. "Why're you – I mean, I'm glad you called, but I – you said –"
"I know," he interrupted, and she stopped talking immediately. "I know what I said."
Anastasia hummed in reply, but didn't speak. The silence that descended wasn't uncomfortable, or even expectant. It was just another one of those silences that existed between them so comfortably that even Kai marvelled at it. It was like she was in his head, steering the conversation into silence just when he needed time to collect himself, his emotions, and decide what to say. Nothing in her voice ever betrayed resentment or exasperation, if there even was any. She just… waited.
It was at least a minute before he spoke again. "I miss you," he said, quieter than he'd even said it to Tala. Had she even heard him?
"I miss you too," Anastasia sighed, and Kai knew he wasn't imagining the longing in her voice. "It's okay, though. You said you'd see me tomorrow, right?"
"I know I said that too," he was staring a hole right through the coffee table, uttering words he never thought he'd say. It wasn't that he didn't mean it. It was just that, before today, he had never imagined even wanting to say what came next. "But tomorrow is really far away."
Anastasia laughed quietly. "You're not helping the situation, hotshot."
"Then come here."
There was a beat of silence.
"What?" her tone was guarded.
Kai closed his eyes again. "I'll text you the address. Just… come. Please."
"Okay."
!
Anastasia stared at the apartment door suspiciously, tracing the bright green numbers with her finger before curling her hand into a fist and knocking sharply. Questions flooded her head, each more intrusive than the last, but she forced them back into the recesses of her mind and bit her tongue. They would all have to wait. Kai hadn't sounded up to talking when he'd called her. Hell, the fact that he'd even called her had blown her mind and she knew he had been able to tell how surprised she was, no matter how hard she had tried to act nonchalant.
The door opened, and before Anastasia could even speak she found himself wrapped up in Kai's arms, his face buried into her neck and his hands clutching her close to his chest. She squeaked with surprise and dropped her bag, but managed to hug him back just as tightly before he somehow managed to get her and her bag inside the apartment and close the door behind them, without ever loosening his grip.
"It's okay," she murmured. "I'm right here." She kissed the side of his head, the only part she could reach without breaking out of his embrace, and finally felt his arms loosen. He pulled back, just enough so he could rest his forehead against hers, and Anastasia bumped her nose against his softly. His lips twitched into that small smile that was just for her, and she smiled back.
They stood there for what felt like hours, even though Anastasia was sure it was only a few minutes. Her legs ached slightly from standing on her toes so she could reach Kai's height, and her arms were getting stiff as well, but she didn't dare move, not when she could feel his breathing, which had been harsh and uneven, finally slow.
It was Kai who broke the silence first. "Sorry," he whispered.
"What for?"
"Attacking you."
Anastasia giggled. "Attack away. I knew you missed me."
"I did," he replied, and her smile grew wider, even as she tucked her head under his chin to hide it. His chest vibrated with silent laughter and he finally pulled back, kissing her forehead and allowing her to see the apartment for the first time.
Anastasia folded her arms across her chest and raised an eyebrow at Kai, who raised an eyebrow right back. "So, you get drunk and break into other people's homes on your birthday?" she asked. "If that was all it was, you know I could have joined you. I'm sure that high-tech security system at the door gave you some trouble."
Kai snorted. "I didn't break in. I have a key."
"So you plan these things?"
"No, Anna. It's my apartment."
Anastasia blinked. "Oh," she looked around again, suddenly much more interested. The small hallway had a few paintings hanging up and a table in the corner where she spied Kai's car keys lying in a brightly coloured ceramic bowl, the kind that kids made at pottery classes. The living-room opened up in front of her, with a massive balcony that showed off a view of the whole town from their advantageous position on top of a hill, and on the 20th floor of the building. There were two doors on the right that were closed, which Anastasia assumed to be bedrooms. The kitchen was on the left – there were dishes in the sink, and a conspicuously empty bottle of Vodka sitting on the counter.
Even more curious, Anastasia slipped her fingers through Kai's and practically dragged him into the living-room. Her eyes drank in everything: the beige sofa and matching arm-chairs covered in colourful cushions; the glass coffee table between them with another bottle of Vodka and a glass lying on it; the large, wall-mounted TV and the book-cases and paintings on either side of it. The TV was the newest thing in the room, she decided immediately. Everything else looked like it was at least a decade old. Which meant…
Anastasia's eyes widened in understanding, her hand tightening around Kai's instinctively. "You lived here with your parents, didn't you?" she asked. "Before they died?"
Kai didn't reply, but he didn't have to. Anastasia touched his face, her heart skipping a beat when he caught her fingers and kissed them, just as he'd done in the car the previous day. He wasn't speaking, but his eyes were open and honest. In that moment, she knew she could ask him anything, and he would tell her.
"Do you miss them?" she whispered.
Kai closed his eyes and sighed. Anastasia bit her lip, suddenly anxious that she had pushed him. What a stupid question. Of course he did.
"Sometimes," he replied quietly, and Anastasia forced herself not to react. "Sometimes… I forget."
"It's okay to move on, Kai."
"It's not that," Kai shook his head. "You know what I did all day, today?" Anastasia shook her head. "I sat here, and I kept thinking about you."
She blinked. "Me?"
"I missed you more than I missed them," he said, and the defeated tone in his voice made Anastasia's heart ache. "I knew I'd see you again tomorrow. I haven't seen them in years. I'll never see them again. And instead…" he trailed off and let out a short, bitter laugh. "What else can you expect from me, huh?"
"Don't," Anastasia sighed and closed the distance between them, taking his face into her hands and forcing him to look at her. Kai didn't try and fight her off, but his eyes were so sad that Anastasia found herself wanting to cry for him. "Just because you missed me today, doesn't mean you don't miss your parents every day. It doesn't have to be one or the other. Emotions don't work like that."
"I don't exactly know how they work," he said dryly.
Anastasia scowled. "Don't say that," she snapped. "You do know how they work. The only person you try to fool with that emotionless act is yourself. You've been spending years locking yourself up in the last place you were happy, holding on to memories of your parents, devoting yourself to thinking only of them on the day they died, even though it's supposed to be a happy day for you. It takes a lot to do that year after year and not crack, Kai."
"I crack plenty."
"Calling me to say you miss me doesn't count," said Anastasia. "Of course you missed me, you idiot. We're in a relationship, we spend practically every waking second together. You know I have to leave soon, and we both know we're going to be miserable no matter how much we like to pretend we won't be. So what if today you couldn't stop thinking about me? If it was any other day, it wouldn't be a problem. Why does this make you a bad person?"
Kai shook his head. "You never think I'm a bad person."
"Because you're not," she sighed. "Would I be dating you, if you were? I'm not stupid, and if this relationship didn't make me happy, if you didn't make me happy, I wouldn't be in it."
"Anna, that doesn't –"
"Just stop," Anastasia rolled her eyes. "This weird self-pitying thing is not like you at all, and if this is what alcohol does to you, I'm cutting you off."
The idea of Anastasia trying to stop him from doing something he wanted to do made Kai smirk, mostly because he knew he'd end up listening to her in the end anyway. "Fine."
Satisfied, Anastasia drifted towards the book-case, and Kai saw her hesitate to touch the shelves, probably noticing the fine layer of dust that no amount of cleaning could get rid of on top of them. He was about to tell her she could do what she wanted, but she had already turned to the drawings, her eyes wide with amazement.
"These are incredible," she said. "Who made these?"
"My mom," said Kai. He joined her opposite the sketches. "She was pretty good."
"Pretty good?" Anastasia gave him a look. "You clearly have no aesthetic sense."
"And you do?" he raised his eyebrows.
"No, and even I think these are gorgeous."
Kai almost laughed again. "I said she was pretty good, didn't I?"
Anastasia ignored him, craning her neck to see the drawings placed way above her head. Kai's mother has papered the wall with colourful sketches, most of them done in pencil, but there were a few watercolours in there as well. They depicted everything from landscapes to animals to portraits, but his favourite had always been the one of a red bird taking flight, the wingspan spreading across the page and the eyes glowing a colour that was almost golden in its sheen. Kai didn't know if his mother had ever seen Dranzer, but as a child he had liked to think that she had known what his bitbeast looked like.
"Was she a professional artist?"
Kai drew himself out of his memories and shrugged. "She was the art teacher at the elementary school in town."
"Did she ever teach you?"
"I'm not an artist," said Kai pointedly, and Anastasia grinned without embarrassment.
"It'd be cute if that was genetic," she nudged his shoulder playfully, and he smiled again. "So, if this is your mom's work, I'm guessing the books are your dad's?" Kai nodded wordlessly. "And what was he like?"
"He was…" Kai trailed off, suddenly unsure of what he wanted to say. If Anastasia sensed his hesitation, she didn't say anything. She didn't even look at him, just sidestepped and went back to looking at the books, her hands folded behind her back as if she were in a museum. "He was different," he said finally. "He didn't talk much."
"That sounds familiar," said Anastasia lightly. She turned her back to the books and faced him, still smiling. "So, what now?"
"What?"
"Did you seriously just tell me to come over here because you wanted to see me?"
"Yes?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Because you missed me?"
"Yes."
"Interesting," Anastasia gave him a searching look, before shrugging and making her way to the sofa. This time, she didn't hesitate, but sank down into the cushions and folded her arms across her chest. "So, can I get that in writing?"
Kai rolled his eyes. "You're annoying."
"And yet you still missed me."
"I'm an idiot."
"Maybe, but you're my idiot," she held out her hand for him, and he joined her on the sofa. Anastasia wrapped her arms around his waist and settled her head against his chest, humming contentedly. "I missed you too, by the way," she mumbled. "So we're both idiots."
Kai tried not to smile and tugged at her ponytail, pulling the elastic out of her hair and winding a loose curl around his fingers. They sat in silence for a while, until Kai suddenly stifled a yawn with his free hand. He rubbed his forehead tiredly. "You want some coffee?" he asked.
"Sure," Anastasia shrugged. Kai yawned again and made to stand up, but she caught him and gave him a suspicious look. "Hold up. When's the last time you slept?"
"I slept last night."
"You're such a liar."
Kai rolled his eyes. "Stop it."
"Take a nap."
"I'm not four."
"You're acting like you're four," she poked his chest. "It's not even dark yet, forget the coffee and just sleep. I'll watch TV."
"I didn't call you here so you could watch me sleep."
"Why? Is it only romantic if you watch me sleep?" Anastasia rolled her eyes.
Kai snorted. "I don't watch you sleep."
"I've caught you doing it!"
"Please stop talking."
"If you want to actually practice tomorrow after spending the whole of today doing nothing, you need sleep," said Anastasia pointedly. Kai hesitated, and she continued relentlessly. "I'll keep the TV on and wake you up in a few hours, I promise. You don't even have to go to bed in case you get too comfortable. Sleep on the sofa, I'll move."
Kai rolled his eyes and caught her wrist before she could get up. "Two hours," he said firmly. Anastasia gave him a mock salute, and he rolled his eyes again before kicking his shoes off and lying down, resting his head on her lap. He felt her tense up for a second, and then she breathed out a laugh, the fingers of her right hand beginning to run through his hair softly as he felt the other one pinch his cheek.
"You're so cute," she giggled. "Good night."
"Call me cute again and I'm not sleeping."
Another laugh. "Noted."
"And stop laughing at me."
Anastasia cleared her throat. "Sorry." She still sounded like she was laughing.
