Brothers Romanoff [MMF]

28

Mikhail and Lev often argued but only because the things they agreed on didn't need to be said, but the things they didn't agree on?

Well.

"Okay...one of us is right," Lev simply. "And the other one is you!"

Mikhail and Lev were an old married couple. After a bout of fighting one decides to leave it alone, to just shut up about it and press a disgruntled kiss on the other's forehead.

I love you but I'm still mad.

Xiomara watched in silence. They kept hunting her down for what? They had this perfect home, this perfect dynamic. She sat across the large living room as Mikhail and Lev silently fumed at one another.

"I'm just saying this isn't like you," Lev frowned. "It's like me."

Mikhail just raised his hands, dropping them in surrender, before turning around.

"Don't turn your back on me!" Lev shouted, bringing his hand down roughly on Mikhail's shoulder.

Xiomara also noted that they got into physical fights far more often than any other couple she'd ever seen.

Mikhail narrowed his eyes, glaring back at him. "Move."

Lev's blue eyes seemed to spit fire. "Move me."

Xiomara heaved a heavy sigh, making them both turn their attention to her. "What's with this spousal abuse?"

Mikhail scoffed, shrugging Lev off.

"He's right," Xiomara called, making him stop.

"Oh..."Mikhail's soft voice sent shivers down her spine. "Is this an intervention?"

Xiomara stood. "What if it were? Lev has known you forever, he says you're not yourself. I agree."

Mikhail smirked, his eyes narrowing. "You agree?" He stalked toward her. She stood firm, and Lev didn't even react.

It was unthinkable that Mikhail would assault a woman. They tussled, but their strength was evenly matched. Lev had no issues fighting a woman as long as it was fair. Mikhail had a softer heart.

Xiomara's brow dipped at his advance, but she stepped forward. "I do. You seem...unlike yourself."

"Unlike...do you know me?" He asked facetiously with a smirk.

"Lev does. And he agrees."

Mikhail took a deep breath. "I am who I've always been."

"You're more erratic, you're more violent--"

"I am what the times call for," He whispered. "You want perfect Mikhail. The man who sets you up with a hole to fuck while you're in prison. Fuck."

Lev looked away. "I didn't."

"It doesn't matter. Do you want a gold star for being faithful? Most people do that anyway."

Lev sighed, rubbing the back of his head. "Fuck. We're just saying...something seems off. What's wrong?" Lev paused for a moment before sighing. "Should we visit Father Henry?"

Mikhail nodded as Xiomara's eyes darted between the two. "Father...? A priest?"

Lev smiled. "I don't exactly believe in it but brings Mikhail's soft heart some comfort. Let's visit him then. Come on."

"Wait me too?" Xiomara asked, her question being answered when Mikhail took her hand pulling her behind them as they left the house.

The drive was relatively short, and silent. They drove to a opulent church that was seemingly deserted. Xiomara shivered as they left the car marching toward the looming church. She didn't figure them for church people and especially not people who knew a priest by name.

The large doors opened, revealing the dim building a stained glass window filtering the moonlight through, painting it shades of red, blues and yellows casting on a singular man, the only occupant who sat the pew.

"Hail Mary. Full of vodka. The lord is blessed with thee. Blessed are thou amongst women and blessed is the fruit of thy loom, Jesus—"

"I don't think those are the words," she whispered.

"Bloody Mary, mother of cocktails, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of my death, which I hope is very, very soon. Amen."

"A little much communion wine?" Lev asked, his voice echoing the pews like a commandment.

The father stood, and took sight of the three. His eyes were green but clouded over, his dark hair slicked back, his robe somewhat wrinkled. "There are three of you. Now I'm sure this isn't the lords house."

Lev smiled. "It's been a while since my last confession."

Henry scoffed and raked his hand through his hair. "Is there really a need for a confession when you keep doing it anyway."

"Doing what?" Lev smirked.

"Everything," Henry swore, sighing and getting into the box. "Come on then. Let's hear it. What am I pretending gods forgiving you for today?"

Xiomara frowned. "Are you ordained or just...a homeless drunk who stumbled into the outfit?"

Henry opened the box. "I'm both. You wanna confession or not? I got all day, I live here, but...I'm not particularly thrilled."

"Are you English?"
"Scottish. Don't disrespect me in the lords house. Now...how long has it been since your last confession?"

"Isn't this supposed to be private?" Xiomara pressed.

"Is she gonna keep telling me how to do my job? Because I can step out of the box, she can step in and I'll just drink my communion whiskey." Henry intoned.

"Don't you mean communion wine—"

Lev winced.

"Yep that's—I'm done with ya lass. You're priest now," he left the box, adjusting his collar, stalking toward the pulpit.

"Touchy touchy," Xiomara muttered.

"Well we had a two part reason for coming," lev ventured.

Father Henry ducked behind the pulpit, pulling up a sleek, black weapon. He dismantled it quickly, cleaning it.

Xiomara's eyes widened.

"Ye always do," he sighed, instantly seeming to sober. He put his rifle back together and looked up at the trio, his eyes lingering on Xiomara. He nodded at her, inquisitively glancing at Lev and Mikhail.

Mikhail nodded. "She's a Romanoff."

Father Henry grinned, opening his arms wide. "Well...welcome to hell on earth, lovey. I'll be the one to baptize your child, and read yer last rites. I'm father Henry. And God is gone."

Xiomara swallowed roughly. "What exactly did we come here for?" She whispered.

"What do you come to a church for? Protection against evil," Mikhail murmured.