He shrugged, leaning away from her as the physical proximity was beginning to make him twitch.
“Maybe I still do,” he shrugged, now unable to meet her gaze. “I don’t know. I really don’t… you need to eat, especially if we’re going to work on your magic.”
She nodded and fell back onto the plate. Mikhail watched her eat for a few moments, his heartbeat clanging at the joy on her face before he forced himself to turn away.
When she was finished, Mikhail shook his head, grabbed the plate, filled it for a second time, and handed it back to her.
“Eat, Anastasia,” his voice left no room for argument, and she accepted the plate. She stared at it for a few moments before Mikhail raised an eyebrow at her, silently conveying his confusion.
“I don’t…,” Anastasia’s voice was quiet, as though this was suddenly the most uncomfortable she had been around him. “I’m already full.”
Mikhail stopped, a sick realization settling over him. As much as Anastasia was fighting against a starving man’s mentality, pushing back against the urge to eat everything in sight, her stomach was small from years of neglect. He turned away from her.
“I have no intention of letting them starve you like that again.” Mikhail’s voice was stoic, speaking the gentle reminder out loud to ease Anastasia’s panic. She nodded once, changing the subject.
“What was it like for you?” She asked quietly, popping another bite into her mouth, keeping her eyes downcast. Mikhail stiffened and looked at her, his eyes going wide.
“Are you sure that you want to know?” He sighed, wondering if it would be better for the both of them to leave the past buried. Anastasia nodded.
“I need to know. It was… my fault.”
Mikhail didn’t say anything before shrugging, “It wasn’t pleasant. I fought with the priests often. The first six months, they held me naked in a wine cellar and beat me until they realized I’d never accept the priesthood.”
The way it fell out of his mouth so casually made Anastasia nearly drop the bite that she had been holding. Her face paled, and a heavy sense of shame sank in her gut, a red flush rising to her ears.
“I… I am sorry.”
“I was more upset over the loss of my mother,” and as soon as Mikhail said it, he realized how much of a barb that it was. Anastasia put her fork down and stared at him, the both of them easing back into their emotional corners, a tense atmosphere settling over the room.
“I loved her, too, Mikhail,” she said, her throat tight as she fought the sensation of wanting to run and hide. “You weren’t the only person who lost her that day —“
“Because you killed her!” Mikhail’s voice had a reverberation to it that sent chills down Anastasia’s spine, and both of them jumped to their feet.
“It was an accident! Why can’t you understand that? I don’t know even know how —“
“You did. You did!Fuck,Anastasia, did you truly have no idea what you were doing?”
“I was achild!”Anastasia screeched, her face flushing as the two squared off, their posture going cold and hostile; any truce between them earlier in the morning evaporated.
“You’re a murderer!”
“You don’t think I know that? I’ve lived every day —“
“— You’velived!”
“Do you call this living? I lost the only person who ever —“
“Don’t youdaresay that she loved you!” Mikhail’s voice shook the chandelier; his face was red and his chest heaving, his hair beginning to slip out of its knot.
Anastasia’s hand flew to her face and her teeth began to grind, feeling an intense wave of melancholy wash over her as if he was trying to steal the only happy memories she had.
“You have no idea what she meant to me. I know she was your mother, Mikhail —“
“MY NAME IS RASPUTIN!”
“Fuck you andfuck that name!”Anastasia screamed, her voice matching his in power as sparks began to flicker between her fingertips.
She cursed, clasping her hands together and rubbing her fingers across her knuckles to get the magic to die down.
