Diamonds Dancing

Nineteen

"Seriously, Slate?" the frustration tumbled out of her lips in a exaggerated sigh, "You told me you quit."

Disappointment glossed over the pools of rich amber and glossy blonde locks took over his blurry vision. Taking in another slow drag, he felt the pressure lift off his heavy shoulders as he released the tension in a matter of seconds.

Smoke fluttered the air, forming white clouds above his head before they vanished into nothingness.

Being forced to snap out of his current source of distraction, he granted his younger sister a casual nod. "I did." She entered the dining hall, pulling at a face as he puffed out another exhale. "I did quit, I'm going through withdrawals."

Pulling out a chair from across him, she made herself comfortable whilst making note of the half-empty glass of brown liquor placed in front of him and the almost finished cigarette hanging out of his mouth. "Really? That's funny since you been going through these 'withdrawals' for ten years now," she sneered, irritated with his lack of concern.

"When is it finally enough with you?" He didn't know how to answer her question truthfully, and so he chose the next best thing—sarcasm.

Slater licked his dry lips, bestowing her another lazy eye roll. "It's a process mishka, you wouldn't understand." He explained in a gruff tone, taking the stick out of his mouth and putting it out into the gold ash tray.

"Happy now?"

Scowling at him, Vera crossed her arms over her chest. "No." She retorted, shooting him another harsh glare.

They sat in silence after that, the only noise came from the excessive tapping of her heel hitting the wooden flooring.

Slater was the first the break the awkward silence, straightening his leg out from under the table and nudging her slightly with his foot. That made her stop her nervous tick of bouncing her leg up and down, snapping her head back up to his in a flash.

A dry chuckle filtered out from him, leaning further back in his chair to assess her properly.

"You want to talk about it?" he hummed, a glint of something indescribable dancing behind his lifeless eyes.

She paused, furrowing her brows together in confusion. "How did you know?"

He shrugged, "Lucky guess."

He didn't want to admit to her the real reason why he could sense her discomfort. It was something she had always asked him how he could pick up on wherever he was in the world. If she was upset or sad, he didn't have to hear her say it to already know.

Raising her on his own had made him overly overprotective of her and although she was a grown adult, she would always be his little sister. He had his daughters to take care of now, but that didn't mean he wasn't checking up on her every passing minute. She lived a comfortable life in Russia, he made sure of it. All the money, cars, houses, clothes, everything she owned, he had worked his ass off for so that she would never have to go without a meal again.

The times they did go without a meal, he was forced to steal. And anything he found on the streets, he would always give to her. Slater Ivanov had an entire past life ridden in wrongdoings, one that was full of hardship.