Surviving Winter

Chapter 4

My Friend, Mistake

"Ah, God, I'm exhausted!" Columbia complained, falling backwards onto the couch. She felt like crap, her limbs had turned into jelly and despite the warm gloves her fingers felt like chunks of ice attacked to the stump of her hands.

Poor Feli couldn't even muster a reply, he simply dragged his feet hard across the floor.

"Take a nap." She said, used to ordering the frail young man around. She didn't know why she did it, or why he took her strong tone so fluidly, but he did. She wondered when she realized she sounded so commanding around him. "You can use the couch." She said, swinging her legs around to stand up. She promptly collapsed in the equally comfortable chair, reclining it with a heavy sigh. Her throat was starting to burn. If she didn't do something she would wake with fever in the morning, most likely.

"Coli." The nickname was recent. "You don't look good."

"Ah, I'm fine." She scolded. She checked the time. They worked straight through lunch, and almost through dinner. She was starving. "New rule. Next time you ask for lunch, we stop." He mouth watered as she remembered the omelet from this morning.

"Vee...okay..."

"Phone..." She asked gently. He was already laying down, the end table where the phone was sat right about his head. He felt for the smooth plastic, sitting up and handing the device to her.

"Pizza?" She asked, and he only hummed eagerly.

"Good. We'll have to wait a bit, but I can't move..." She grasped a small book on the end table that was close to her, flipping through the phone book. "What do you like?"

"Vee...anything but anchovies..." He was half asleep.

She dialed a number she found suitable. She would need a lot. Feli was a big eater.

A man's voice answered, speaking a rehearsed greeting she didn't even care to absorb. Whatever he said didn't matter. The cue for her to order was when the noise stopped.

"I need two large pizzas, one packed with sausage, pepperoni, and ham, extra cheese, and one with whatever vegetables you have an an assortment of meats. No anchovies though. And breadsticks. Largest order you have. And enough garlic sauce for me to drown in. Like...ten packets, minimum."

"What kind of meats?"

"Surprise me." She replied, doubting the Italian would care and not having the energy to think any more past that.

"Um...okay." He sounded put-off. "Is this for pickup or delivery?"

"Delivery."

"Address?"

Columbia rang off the numbers, and the could sense the disapproval in the long pause.

"Ma'am, we don't deliver that far out-"

"Yes you will." She demanded, clenching her fist. "Because I will pay double."

There was a short pause. "Any special instructions miss?"

"Bring soda. And water bottles. Also, tell the delivery person to come straight through the front door."

"With that, your total comes to $38.97..."

"Fine."

Food could not come faster. The rather bewildered young driver hesitantly knocked on the door first before announcing his entrance, and both Feli and Columbia found the sudden strength to jump up and accept the food. The boxes were practically thrown to the counter and Columbia forced herself to not hork down the gooey deliciousness, despite how hungry she was. She forcibly told Feli to eat slow as well.

A pepperoni hanging from between her lips, she dug four twenties and a ten from her wallet, shoving them in the drivers hand.

"The ten is yours. Thanks for the trouble."

Staring, the boy simple gave an exuberant 'thanks!' and left beaming.

Feliciano watched the exchange with interest, chewing on his pizza slice thoughtfully. "Coli?" He inquired, swallowing his bite.

"Hmmph?" Her mouth was full again. Damn, she was hungry.

"...You seem to have a lot of money."

She paused, finishing her entire slice in silence before answering him. "Yeah."

"Do you work somewhere?"

"No."

He frowned, looking at the food that she vastly overpayed for.

"My fiancee died in a fire. I was his beneficiary to the insurance. He was...paranoid."

She said it so suddenly it startled him, his amber eyes growing big and turning into liquid.

"He had a million dollar policy on 'im." She said, food still in her mouth. "I shared some of the money with his family, but - well, there wasn't much of an argument after what happened."

"So much..." Feli murmured, still in shock.

She frowned, staring at the liter of cola in sudden distaste. Grabbing the bottle, she stuck it in the fridge, instead grabbing a tall glass bottle from a small, high cabinet. The clinking of glasses followed, and she poured a large amount of the smooth, dark liquid into a small drinking glass, smelling the alcohol before anything else. "You want some?"

Feli glanced at the bottle, realizing it was rum or whiskey. "Vee...no, grazie." He smiled politely, instead grasping a fresh water bottle.

She shrugged, pressing the glass to her lips and tipping it back and allowing the rich liquid to fill her mouth, the burn of the alcohol making her shudder oh so slightly as it slid down her throat. It also soothed the fire that was steadily growing there. She grinned at the tasteless humor. Fire against fire.

Feli watched with amusement as she drained the glass more than a little faster than he expected. "You like your liquor, huh, Coli?"

She nodded mutely. Still hungry, she popped open the breadsticks and a small plastic cup of garlic. They sent a small bag of at least fifteen of the buttery condiment. Good. "Dinner is good."

"Si."

"Anyway." Feeling the tingle of the alcohol was what she wanted. She poured a little more, hiking her chair closer to the countertop. They ate at the island more than the actual kitchen table. The old wood was gross to her suddenly. "He was paranoid. And it seemed that the longer we were together, the worse it became." She munched on the breadstick between sips, deciding it would be okay to share this story.

Feliciano stared at her, not sure if he wanted to hear this. But she was on her third drink, and he saw something that made him want to stay and listen. She wanted to talk about it. Plus he'd be lying if he said he wasn't curious.

"So finally, after being cooped up in the house for more than a month, I snapped. It was horrible, not able to go out or do anything for no reason. I was going out of my mind. He tapped the phone lines, for God's sakes!" The pouring of the alcohol sounded good to her. "We had shutters instead of blinds, a padlock on our backdoor and he changed the lock every month for a year!" Why did rum taste so good, she wondered. "He was always a little claustrophobic in crowds, jumpy even...but when I couldn't take it anymore...I told him maybe I should leave. I didn't think he would take it the way he did. He screamed, he thrashed, he hurt himself. It was like watching a castle slowly crumble from the top down. Every sound he made was a brick that crashed to the ground, every move was another rumbling of the earth beneath us." Just a little more. "Mentally, I knew he was gone, too far gone to ever care about me again." She stopped talking, staring with a glazed over look past Feli, not even bringing herself to face him. She was just...staring at the wall across the room.

"The...fire?" His voice squeaked timidly.

She shook her head violently, forcing another large gulp of alcohol down. "...He died." She tried to eat a little faster, knowing that was probably one too many. "Shit..." She swore, feeling her feet hover under her. They sat quietly for a moment, eating. Columbia was done for now, but true to her expectations, Feli polished off nearly three-quarters of the pizza on his own. She let her cheek rest in her palm as she watched him, just giving in to the fuzzy feeling in her head. It was so calm, nothing like her normally turbulent and random thoughts. "I forgot how good this felt." Giving a shuddering breath, her head hit the countertop.

"Oops." She said dumbly, the resounding THUNK alarming the Italian. "'M fine-" She pressed her hands against the cool surface, taking a step away...
...and promptly swinging her foot too far to the side, tripping herself and hitting the floor.

"Coli!" The Italian fretted, wrapping an arm of hers around his neck. "Are you all right?"

"Ah Feli." She purred, grabbing him around his neck and pulling him down to the floor with her. They hit kind of hard, but she didn't mind the slight throbbing of her back. "You're so lovey..." She whined, pressing her chest against his. They were almost the same height. Feli giggled slightly, which sounded strange to his own ears. When was the last time he laughed?

"We should get you to bed." He said with a smile.

"Ooh, come with me..." She groaned, burying her head in his chest. "I don't want to be alone."

Feli held his breath. How did she mean that? "I- I don't think that's a good idea, Coli. You're a little drunk..." Yeah. A 'little'. Too much way too fast.

She looked up at him blankly, the way he was talking to her clicking in her fuzzy brain. "What would it matter? You're gay, right?"

Feli froze, the color draining from his face and his breathing had stopped and how did she know-?!

Even as drunk as she was, a sense of guilt tugged at her. "What? Did I say something wrong? Sorry. I'm blunt when I'm drunk..."

He somehow found his breath again, taking it slowly. "H-how...did you...?"

"You act like it's not obvious." She stated as if it was the dumbest thing in the world to overlook. "I knew from day one." Her face kept bobbing between looking up and cuddling into his chest.

His face was painted red, he was trapped in the stronger woman's grasp and squeezed his eyes shut. "Oh mio Dio non posso credere che questo come ho potuto essere così stupida ..."

"What?!" Columbia's face resembled a pout, and if Feli hadn't be embarrassed at the current moment he might have found it cute.

"Voglio nascondere in un angolo e morire..." He mumbled, his face burning brighter.

"Feli, you idiot, I can't understand that crap-"

The last word tore him from his embarrassment and he glared down at her. "'Crap?'"

"Ah dammit." She swore again. She pointed to her head. "Sorry Feli, I didn't mean it...it's pretty. Really. But I can't understand it. It's frustrating." Her looks were glazed over.

He frowned, debating. It made sense, he supposed. She didn't exactly keep a clean mouth, either. She almost reminded him of Lovino sometimes. Sighing, he helped her stand. "Bed, yes?" He asked.

"Hnn..." She groaned. "Sorry. Italian isn't crap. Not understanding it...is." Her head bobbed shakily as they slowly went upstairs.

"Si."

"...That's 'yes', right?"

He giggled, light and short. "Yes."

"So you forgive me, si?"

Another giggle. "Si."

Columbia groaned awake, already dreading the idea of simply standing up. Despite how cold the house was, the sheets and comforter were particularly warm and soothing this morning. If only the light would stop hitting her right in the fucking face.

Being slowly forced aware, she realized something. There was something wrapped around her midsection, and a moment after trying to think what the hell it could be, something behind her shifted -

In a panic, she spun, scrambling backwards with a yelp and falling off the bed. Her arm clipped the nightstand - "FUCK!" - sending it careening into her chest as her back hit the floor roughly.

"KYAAA I'M UP I'M-!" A voice that wasn't hers screamed, and Feliciano looked around in surprise. "Coli?" His eyes swept the mess in front of him, and his voice grew panicked. "Coli! Are you all right?!"

Somewhat shocked and now in a fair amount of pain, she did vaguely recall asking the Italian to stay with her for the night. Her head spun, her stomach flipped, and there was a bruise on her arm, bum, and chest that she was sure were gonna stick around for a while. "Guh - help - " She groaned, not feeling the strength to move.

Feliciano ran out of from under the covers, wearing nothing but his boxers, she noticed with a modest flush, picking the nightstand up and helping her to her feet, slowly.

"...I'm gonna go puke." She said, rather ungracefully, pushing him off to run to the master bathroom that sat at the front of the room.

Feli winced as he heard the clink of porcelain and the gut-twisting sound of sick that followed. The flush of a toilet, the shuffling of items and running water, the brushing of teeth.

"Feel better?" He asked gently, looking up at the woman who approached him slowly, her clothes from yesterday grungy and smelly from work and drinking.

She nodded stiffly. "Thank you. For being such a good friend to me."

He looked up at her, the stony serious of her face almost making him laugh.

"Vee...you're welcome."

"Grazie." She grinned, trying to repeat the word that she had hear many times.

"Uh-" Feli frowned in silent disapproval. "Your accent is way off."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Feli." Columbia spoke through the rolled-down window of her truck, the young Italian seeming tiny from the high seat.

"Si, but Coli...why did we stop so early today?" The man frowned, and she grinned, honestly smiling for the first time since before she could remember at this point. Feliciano ended up staying both Monday and Tuesday night, since it would have been almost a waste of time to have to drive him back and forth on the half-day.

"I have a date."

His eyes widened, and he clapped his hands together happily. "Really? That's so exciting!" It was so easy to make him smile big like that, suddenly. "Good luck, then! Oh - " He flushed slightly, gripped the edge of the truck with his gloved hands, leaning in closer to his friend. "Is he cute?"

Pink tinted her cheeks more than the cold would have. "Yeah. Really cute." She smiled mischeviously, deciding not to tell him her date was with Ivan. She wasn't quite sure why she wanted to keep the information from him, but she did.

"Good luck then, Coli. Ciao!" And like that, he ran off.

Columbia glanced at the digital clock in the vehicle, pressing her hand to her temple. The slight headache had not gone away since yesterday morning and she was a little worried about it. It wouldn't stop her for tonight though. Shew as too excited. She had a couple hours. Ten minutes to drive to her house, another thirty minutes in the shower...she frowned, drying her hair with a towel. What did she have to wear?

Alarmed, she threw open her closet, pushing hangar after hangar aside. She had a couple of at least semi-formal tops, he had said to wear something nice, dammit what did that mean?

Sighing, she pulled off one of her best black and white dressy tops, which would go well with a nice long sleeved undershirt. She also found a medium length black skirt. Good Lord, did she even have dress shoes anymore? She had to have some, right? Relief filled her as a pair of modest black heels came into view from an old box she had forgotten about, tossed into the back of the closet with little care.

Laying the outfit out on the bed, she (to her own disgust) manually dried her hair with a blowdryer that had probably been used all of once or twice. The straightener followed. Allowing the thin hair to fall to her shoulders, she wrapped a little bit to the back of her head, tying it with a dainty white ribbon for looks. She looked in her near bare medicine cabinet. She had no make up, just some chapstick which had a bit of a shimmer to it for some reason. Shrugging, she applied the moisturizing product.

She was ready almost an forty five minutes ahead of time. She busied herself dusting off an old handbag, black with gold clasping, putting her worn wallet and cell phone in the small compartment. After thinking about it, she added the chapstick. And waited.

Bored, she turned on the TV. Something ought to be able to entertain her for a few minutes.

Her stomach was knotting more with every second that passed. She felt like this was her first high school dance or something, and the cute boy from the next grade that she's liked forever was coming in to sweep her off her feet. The idea of large, intimidating Ivan sweeping anybody into a bridal hold was instantly hilarious. She settled on listening to some channels that just place music, resting her head back onto the couch and sighing. She itched for alcohol to be in her system again, this...idleness was next to unbearable.

The soft hum of a vehicle and crunching gravel drew her attention. She checked her watch. Fifteen minutes early. Not wanting to seem eager, she rooted herself to the couch until the rapping at the door pierced the air.

The heavy door creaked, and she felt much of her anxiety leave her as the tall frame of Ivan came into her view. She was almost disappointed to seem him wearing the same tan coat and scarf...she he ever take those off?

"Ooh, very nice. You are dressed splendidly!" His smile didn't widen or shorten, he just kept looking on with it.

"Oh - um. Thank you." It was an odd compliment, but she tried to take it as gracefully as possible.

"So, ready to go?" He asked, holding out a leather gloved hand.

"Yes." She replied, the television had been turned off and she unhooked a good black coat from the rack next to the door, wrapping it around her hastily and pulling some gloves on. She double checked to make sure she had the handbag...she wasn't used to carrying one, and nodded with satisfaction.

"No hat?" He questioned curiously, and she shook her head.

"I need to get a new one."

He waited patiently, watching her as she locked the door and holding the passenger door open to his small, expensive-looking car. She slid into the seat easily, feeling the warm leather under her. It was heated, and he had the foresight to turn it on during the drive over?

His attentiveness was already impressive.

Some strange, foreign song was playing from his in car stereo, and silence hung around them like a thick fog as he drove.

By the time the third song was playing, she was going crazy. Her thumbs twiddled crazily, the fingernails clicking together (it was plenty warm in the car without gloves on) was drowned by the music. "So what language is this?" She finally asked, not wanting to be the one to break the ice, since she wanted him to talk but had no idea how to start, but not able to take the constant silence.

"It's Russian." Ivan said, glancing at her with a confused expression. "Is obvious, da?"

Russian? She had never heard the language before. Though looking at him now, it made sense. The pale skin, silvery hair. "Yes, I suppose it is." She laughed nervously, almost forced.

This was not going well.

Taking in a silent, deep breath, she rested her head against the glass window, the coolness of it feeling strangely good. Odd. She hated the cold.
She restrained a low growl. Why did she move further north? Why did she buy a huge house she couldn't take care of? Why leave the support of her family back in Ohio? She rubbed her temples. This constant thinking was more unbearable than silence. Silence always led to this, and the music that poured from the speakers was not something she could follow the words with, drown in the lyrics so the incessant THINKING would just stop torturing her mind.

"Are you all right?" Ivan asked, sending what looked to be a worried glance her way.

"F-fine." She lied, a strained smile. He shot her a cold look. Dammit. She was supposed to be enjoying herself. She shouldn't have drank that much rum two night ago. She craved the mind-numbing feeling and the taste on her tongue. "Sorry." Her voice lowered. It was clear he didn't believe her. "Long car rides bug me. At least, when I'm not driving."

"Do not lie to me." His tone held a razor sharp edge, and she shuddered involuntarily. The hell was that? Then he was all smiles again. "I apologize. I did not know. It will be worth it, good times are for sure."

The way he spoke the English took a slight bit of deciphering, she noticed. In desperate need of a distraction, of an escape out of her own thoughts, she nodded. "All right. Um, so where are we going."

"Is big surprise." He chimed, eyes not moving from the road.

"Oh. Okay."

An awkward silence followed.

"Do you have any hobbies?" She asked.

He hummed, nodding slightly. "Carving."

"I'm not that good at woodworking. Enough for odd and end things, and the occassoinal repairs..."

"Just keep practicing. You will get better." Expression unchanging, he glanced towards her again. "You seem unwell."

"Honestly. I feel fine. It's just the car ride."

"Talking helps?" He fidgeted with his scarf, pulling it a little further over his chin.

"Yeah, a bit. Plus I want to talk to you."

Another short silence.

"All right. You have done a lot of spiffing up in that old house."

"You...noticed?"

"Da. I know many of the houses that are in the vicinity, even if they are not so very close to the town. I visited that one many times. Debating buying for myself once or twice. Is a little big, for what it is."

"Yeah, it is." She agreed, feeling relief spread wildfire. "There's a bedroom downstairs off the living room that will probably never be used, plus three or four more unused rooms upstairs..." She sighed, realizing just how pathetic it might sound, all that space and none of it filled. Feli was right. It was lonely.

"Do not be so down about that. I have many unused rooms at my place too. There used to be more..." He tone steadily lowered before he dropped off the sentence. "Is not so bad sometimes. Is good and quiet."

"It's lonely." She murmured, the sudden rigidness of his hands going unnoticed by her. "The only times it's...nice, I suppose, is when my worker is there with me."

"Worker?"

"Just a kid I hired to help move things and stuff. He's a good worker, even if I sometimes find him taking naps on couch." She figured the napping was due to sleepless nights, so she had let them slide. "I little on the weak side though. I need someone with more muscle come Spring..."

"You keep talking about Spring like you can survive winter."

"That's the second time you told me winter was a death sentence." Her eyes narrowed into a glare at him. "What's with that?"

"I suppose you'll find out eventually."

She waited for him to expand on the statement. He didn't. How cryptic.

"We've been driving a while. Where are we going?"

"Into the City."

"The City? As in the big big city?"

"Not too far. Closer to outskirts. Is very good restaurant I know, made reservations." How did he manage to talk with hardly changing that expression at all?

"O-oh. So how much longer?" They had to have been driving for almost an hour, at least...she checked the clock.

"Maybe...twenty minutes?"

"Ok." At least her thoughts had settled with the conversation. "Um. So, you have family?" She asked, recalling the large-breasted sister at the town hall.

"Two sisters."

"...That's all?"

"Da."

"Are they happy?"

"Katyusha, maybe. Natalia..." His body leaned in on the steering wheel, his tone dropped, and his expression fell. "...she is better not to think about." He admitted, and he shuddered.

What the hell kind of sister inflicted fear? She asked inwardly.

"What about you?" He pressed, as if to take his own mind off of a dark thought.

"Oh, well...my grandparents had a large plot of land that they farmed for years. My fathers side inherited it when they retired. They live in Florida now...which I guess is pretty cliche."

"So your parents work a large farm?"

"Yeah. They had siblings, and they all live somewhat close. I have an aunt and uncle - separate ones, not by marriage - that each own the plots on either side. So It's like one huge family farm with multiple fields, houses, and barns...I don't like dealing with animals though. I have a lot of siblings, but none of us every really saw eye to eye. I'm the oldest, and the only other brother that worked with us was the one right behind me. We got along okay, I suppose."

"My family used to be big like that...when I was very little." He frowned. "I decided I do not like talking much."

"S-sorry." His mood had darkened where hers had lightened. Family seemed to be a touchy subject for him.

"The music is interesting." The foreign words had been going to entire time, and she was a little sick of not being able to sing along. Even if her singing wasn't good.

"You like it?"

"Yeah but I can't sing it. The words are..." She tried listening closer, picking apart the letters in her heads to match the sounds coming from the speakers. Yeah, that wasn't going to happen...

He didn't respond. Finally, they had pulled into a more populated area, and their destination was a dark wood building. Columbia looked around. Women in evening dressed and gowns, men in suits...

She was suddenly extremely glad she found her skirt instead of wearing black slacks.

"Come." The tall man had already opened her side of the car, offering a leathery hand to her.

She accepted it, and he linked their arms together, walking evenly inside the glass double doors.

The place was...posh. Low lighting, lush carpets, host and hostess's dressed in black tie uniforms.

She glanced up at the man who had at least six inches on her height. What the hell. He just smiled casually, placing a hand over the one that rested on his arm. The hostess at the small podium looked up at them with a friendly smile. "Name?" She asked, flipping through a book.

"Braginsky."

She paused, inclining her head slightly. "Yes, of course. This way sir."

She led them to more private area of the place, which was rather impressive, since most of the tables seemed to have some level of privacy about them. They had a tiny room all to themselves. He had managed to get a reservation for this place in two days?

"Can I interest you in any wines tonight?" She asked as they sat down. Ivan pulled her chair out for her. He was far more attentive than she initially thought.

Columbia fought a grimace. She did not like wine. She wanted liquor. "Sorry, I'm afraid I'm rather unfamiliar with wine."

The lady went on to list the types and what they had, recommending the best brands. Columbia held up a hand. "Sorry, just..." She turned to Ivan. "What will you be drinking?"

He seemed a little surprised, but responded. "Vodka."

She frowned. She had never had that before, but it had to be better than...wine. "Can I just have the same?"

Hiding the surprise, the hostess nodded, silently slipping out.

"Do you not know much about drinks?" Ivan asked, moving to take off his scarf and coat.

"I drink liquor. Elegant drinks aren't really my thing." She said blankly, also slipping off her black coat. Her head had started to feel heavy.

If he was surprised again, he didn't show it well. His eyes just seemed to grow slightly rounder, his staring wasn't intense either. He was just...looking at her. "I see."

She watched as he draped the coat over the back of his chair, revealing the thick dress sweater he wore underneath. Cream in color, and it was a brand name, she could tell. She may not have cared such things, but she could still notice the little details. His black slacks were nice too, and he wore thick, brown boots that seemed to insulated with something. She noticed that even without the large coat his frame was huge. His shoulders wide, his hands were large, and even through the sweater she could see that he was most likely muscular.

"How does a small town worker of the water department in a small town afford such a nice dinner?" She asked, peering over the plastic-encased menu in front of her. As she expected, the prices were as high class as the rest of the place.

"How does farmer with no income afford twenty-four thousand dollars worth of custom-ordered furniture?" He replied back.

She froze, slowly looking up at him with a harsh stare. Did he just -? She scolded herself inwardly. Flaunting money was the number one way to garner attention, stupid! "Are you doing...what I think you're doing?"

"Da." The word was harsh, and he suddenly seemed to have a threatening air about him. "I have been told to be careful of people like you."

"People like - huh?" She tilted her head in slight confusion. Wait, wasn't he after her?

He frowned hard. She seemed genuinely confounded. "Tell me how you received your money. You have nearly a million dollars in a single bank account, da?"

Columbia stood, face frozen in shock, the chair sliding against the carpeted floor noiselessly but being pushed back all the same. "I - you - how?!"

"Just tell me." That strange, sharp and demanding tone compelled her to talk. Weird.

"I - my - " She shook. Where was the alcohol?

He sighed. "Sit down. Calmly. And speak."

She didn't know why she obeyed the direct order, but her hands still shook when she fell back into the seat.

The waitress popped back in, she didn't notice how or care to notice. All she cared about was the clinking of glasses and the pouring of liquid.

"Leave the bottle." Ivan spoke. She barely registered the words.

"Do you need a few more moments...?" This woman was trained to sense the mood, obviously.

"Da." The word was harsh. "Several."

The lady left without another word, and Columbia gripped her alcohol-filled glass carefully, drinking the clear liquid without even looking at it. Surprise filled her as the vodka was so smooth it was easy to drink...a little too easy. The burn was less, but the strength was still there. She downed the delicious liquid.

"...I was not expecting that." She heard Ivan say. She glared at him from the short distance across the table. He looked to be somewhat in surprise. She held out the glass.

"Pour." She demanded, and they exchanged hardened glares as he twisted the cap off the bottle and poured steadily. "Stop." She said when it was half-full. She had no idea how this stuff was going to affect her, and food would be in order but for now, she was going to talk. The alcohol tasted sweet to her, and it would be necessary.

Ivan obeyed, and she was beginning to wonder why. They were like bulls ramming horns, each wrestling for control and right of commands, one gaining the ground for a moment before the other taking back control.

"My fiancee died in a fire." She started, intent on rambling the story because God help her if she stopped. She tried to recall how she told Feli just two days ago - "He was a paranoid bastard, and had a high life insurance policy, never thinking it was enough. He was constantly thinking of ways to pay for the stupid - " She shook her head. "Anyway...it was an enormous lump sum when he died, and most of it went to me. The fire - " She stopped, taking another big gulp of vodka. " - it destroyed everything. The house we lived in, the fence in the front yard was scrap, I even lost my cat!" Her fingers twitched in anger as the urge to throw the glass almost got the better of her senses. "I still worked on the farm with my parents at that time...even though I couldn't much - " Stupid bastard kept me locked up in that fucking prison! " - So I collected on all the insurance money, for him, for the house, sold my portion of the vehicles and crops that were mine from the farm and traded my car in for my truck. I need to buy vehicles and hands for Spring, so I'm saving most of it...but that house is so empty and stuffy, I can't take it...it's not like I plan on never working again. Plus the funds I had before...and everything else...ah, God." She slumped in her seat, putting her forehead to the back of her hand. "...pour." She demanded, shoving the glass towards him again without looking up. She hadn't dared glance at him the whole time, opting instead to stare at the dark brown of the floor.

Instead of the sweet sound of liquid, she heard footsteps and felt something pat her head gently. "Is all right." Ivan's voice pierced the buzz in her head, and she turned to look up at him. His hand was rough she noticed, but he still pushed his fingers overtop her smooth, thin locks carefully. "Is all right." He repeated, his 'normal' smile looked down on her.

"Are you happy now?" She murmured. Crap. So much for a good first impression.

"Seems I have made a mistake." He admitted, and she was grateful to hear the sound of alcohol being poured into a glass. "Drink. I will order something for you - "

"Linguini." She said softly. "I like linguni. Seafood kind..."

His voice seemed to be careful. "All right."

An hour later, Columbia felt herself being laid carefully in the car. He kept a firm grip on her thin frame as they walked (somehow) out of the restaurant, but away from the eyes and whispers of high class society all bets were off. Her face was red from the strong alcohol and she felt like she was going to fall asleep at any second. She recalled the food was delicious, and hated the idea of possibly puking it up later. Hopefully, she hadn't crossed that threshold quite yet. It didn't feel like it, anyway.

She didn't remember what she mumbled as her vision dimmed in the comfortable car. At least it was warm...

Translations - Italian

Oh mio Dio non posso credere che questo come ho potuto essere così stupida - Oh my God I can not believe this how could I be so stupid

Voglio nascondere in un angolo e morire - I want to hide in a corner and die