FRAGMENTS ➸ yelena belova (platonic)

xiii.

★彡[ ᴀʜ, ᴍʏ ᴇꜱᴛᴇᴇᴍᴇᴅ ʀɪᴠᴀʟ ]彡★

Both Yelena and Lia groaned for like the hundredth time as they glared at Alexei who was cheerfully story-telling about his time with his father. Oh, how every inch of the nephilim's body itched to punch him in the face but she restrained herself.

"So, here I am fishing with my father. It's very cold day in this little ice shed, cold even for Russia, you know?" He glanced at the two who were leaning back against the bed, a complete done expression on their faces. "Keep the vodka by the fire, my father would say to me-"

Yelena shook her head. "Please stop talking." 

Alexei stared at her. "Please wait."

"Please, no." Lia shook her head. 

"Please wait." He begged.

"Please, I don't want to talk," Yelena continued, averting her gaze from him and silently scooting closer to Lia for comfort. 

"Please. Please," he pleaded. "There is a reason why I'm telling you this, okay? Trust me."

"I am reaching for fish. Oh!" He exclaimed dramatically. "I lose balance. Ah! Splash! My hands go in the river. In this weather, frostbite sets in quick."