She hums a soft, noncommittal noise and nods a little. She still doesn’t remember it, not really, but it doesn’t matter. She does remember all of them piled in the living room watching tv together. This living room feels fairly empty in comparison, though.
For a few minutes, she just sits there with him and watches the tv show she is not actually paying attention to. Maybe if she tries hard enough, it could feel more like it did in Ohio. Maybe Mom and Natasha are just simply… picking up things for dinner at the store. It was easier for Melina to take their oldest daughter for things like that, let Alexei wrangle the little one for a little bit, instead.
But she can’t lie that well to herself; Natasha is gone. Melina is… wherever she is these days. It’s just the two of them on a couch in a messy flat, alone.
She shifts until she’s pressed against her father’s side, pushing until he takes the hint to loop his arm around her shoulders so she can hide her face against him. Hot tears well up in her eyes and spill against his shirt, but she doesn’t sob, she doesn’t make a sound at all. And maybe that makes it all the worse.
Back when they were all in Ohio together, Alexei had always been feeling restless. He would insist, over and over, that Dreykov had chosen the wrong person for the job. That he should've been out in the field. What good is a super soldier when he just sits around a house all day, pretending to be American? What he hadn't realized back then, but knows all too well now, is that his priorities had been wrong. The only good that had come from being associated with the Red Room had been the Ohio mission, and those are years he can never get back. Neither of them can. Sitting here now with Yelena is the closest thing to it, even if it is just a pale imitation. A faint echo of a makeshift family.
When she presses up against him, it takes him by surprise, but he does understand the request just fine. It's because he understands the request that he's surprised in the first place. His arm settles around her shoulders to pull her against his chest and he assumes that to be the end of it, but... now his shirt is getting wet.
It takes him a long moment of debating (is this bear poking?) before he decides to throw the question out there: "Did something happen?"
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
For a few minutes, she just sits there with him and watches the tv show she is not actually paying attention to. Maybe if she tries hard enough, it could feel more like it did in Ohio. Maybe Mom and Natasha are just simply… picking up things for dinner at the store. It was easier for Melina to take their oldest daughter for things like that, let Alexei wrangle the little one for a little bit, instead.
But she can’t lie that well to herself; Natasha is gone. Melina is… wherever she is these days. It’s just the two of them on a couch in a messy flat, alone.
She shifts until she’s pressed against her father’s side, pushing until he takes the hint to loop his arm around her shoulders so she can hide her face against him. Hot tears well up in her eyes and spill against his shirt, but she doesn’t sob, she doesn’t make a sound at all. And maybe that makes it all the worse.
no subject
When she presses up against him, it takes him by surprise, but he does understand the request just fine. It's because he understands the request that he's surprised in the first place. His arm settles around her shoulders to pull her against his chest and he assumes that to be the end of it, but... now his shirt is getting wet.
It takes him a long moment of debating (is this bear poking?) before he decides to throw the question out there: "Did something happen?"