Brothers Romanoff [MMF]

25

Xiomara took a hit of her weed pen, and enjoyed the quiet of the library. She ignored the blantant no smoking sign, since there wasn't really anyone to tell her to fuck off and no kids who's lungs she's popcorn. Just her, in a field of books, no where near high, but smoking anyway.

It had dawned on Xiomara in the middle of the night at 4 am the night before that, under the right circumstances, and substances she could actually fall in love with the Romanoffs.

"Wow," an an accented, uncharacteristically loud voice said. "Didn't take you for a weed girl. Did you just lie about every aspect of your personality?"

"Quiet down! This is a library!"

Lev throw a wink over his shoulder. "Will you let me slide this once? I'm new to this country."

The library made blushed but nodded. "Just...just keep it down."

"Sorry," she shrugged, standing.

"Why are you apologizing? Have you done something wrong?" Lev pushed, sitting next to her, snatching her pen and putting it in his mouth.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Xiomara said softly, looking up at Mikhail. "I'm sorry."

"There she goes again. Do you apologize so much because your parents told you your existence requires apology?"

Xiomara blinked and grinned softly. "Pretty much, yeah. I have always apologized for existing. It's something worth being sorry for. That's what I was taught anyway."

Lev's eyes widened. What the hell? Didn't she normally say something smart back, and then they moved on?

"But never mind that. What are you two doing here? Come to string me up for daring to have left the great Romanoffs?"

"Yeah," Lev shrugged. "Something like that."

She snorted, and closed her eyes, leaning her head against the bookcase. "Fuck off, the both of you. You're starting to piss me off. It was fun and all—"

Lev's eye twitched. "Now you listen—"

"You know I bet you consider yourself a player but you're not. You know what you are?"

Lev's eyes fluttered with irritation his teeth grit into a dangerous smirk. "Enlighten me."

"You're a slut. You're just pretty and easy. Which is ironic because every time you talk about fucking someone else, Mikhail fights not to flinch, so clearly he'd rather you not, but he knows you're a whore. You can't help it. You need attention."

She shrugged. "And you know I'm not usually one to slut shame it's just...people will pretend it's something different because you have a dick. But you also a husband. So that's makes you an dirty slut."

Mikhail shifted uncomfortably, but Xiomara just kept her gaze on a particular book.

"You always act like Mikhail is the best thing in your life but you never do any of things he asks you to. Mikhail pretends he doesn't resent you, but when you say certain things he can't look at you. He thinks if you'd loved them you would've tracked him down, the guy who did it, and kill him. He thinks he would've done the same."

Lev's fist balled him, his fingers pressing into his flesh but he didn't say anything. Neither did Mikhail.

"Mikhail thinks it was fault for trusting you. He knew you weren't responsible. You think it's your fault for not being more careful. And neither of you, even after knowing each other for ten years would've probably said any of these things. So...what the hell do you want with me? I'm just a stranger."

She shrugged, the rip in her jeans bending right at her knee, one foot propped up her back against the uncomfortable bookshelf.

"You done?" Lev growled.

She scoffed. "You're always so worked up about something. You're gonna bust a vessel. And you," she nodded to Mikhail. "You keep too much in. Gonna implode one day."

She stood groaning at her sore muscles. She was certainly not young anymore.

"Keep the pen. Maybe it'll help you chill out," she said softly, walking past them.

A strong hand catch hers.

"Lev—"

Mikhail narrowed his eyes at her, squeezing her hand tighter. "Where do you get off psychoanalyzing us? At least we are who we are, flawed as that may be. We have been honest. You have been lying."

She sighed and reached up, cupping his cheek. "I'm sorry."

He grabbed her wrist. "Fuck your apologies. You made me love you."

She scoffed, wrestling her hand from his grasp. "Love? You barely know me. I barely know me! You don't love me!"

Something in Mikhail snapped. He walked away. "Lev?" He paused by the door.

Lev raised his brow. "Yes?"

Mikhail took a cigar from his front pocket. "Put her in the car."

Lev grinned.

"Don't do this," Xiomara shouted, as lev closed his strong hands around her, hefting her over his shoulder. "For fucks sake put me down."

Mikhail, the soft one. Mikhail the gentle soul. He just shrugged. "We don't know you? But you think you know us. If you knew us enough, you would've known Lev may be a rabid dog...but I have always held his leash. And he loves giving presents."

Mikhail snapped, and Lev patted her ass with a boisterous laugh. "It's true! He's so cute when he begs after all! He wants you so much, Xiomara. How could I not?"

Mikhail's told by the door as Lev forced her into the car, his dark eyes, usually warm, now cold, his gloved hand shutting it tightly, a blank look on his face.

"I hope you can forgive me," Mikhail murmured. "I try not to be so cruel. But you left me no choice. My heart is fragile. And I can't let you break it. People are counting on me."

Xiomara glared at him. "I will make you regret this."

He raised his brow, and took a drag of his cigar, smiling. "Maybe you will. Maybe the real Xiomara is a worse person than the real Mikhail. But somehow..." his voice carried as he got into the car. "I doubt it."