Chapter Text
“Thanks again for helping, Dasha.” Unlocking the door to your house and opening it, you turn to look at your girlfriend and give her a smile. “I know the kitchen can keep you pretty busy.”
“Anything for you, Solnyshko. Besides, I am doubting you would want to hire strange moving-men to carry your things for you, especially when I and Abel are more than willing to provide assistance.” Dasha gives you a tender smile.
Your heart warms at the nickname Dasha has given you. Stepping inside, you move to the side to allow her room to follow you. “It’s too bad Abel couldn’t be here.”
Dasha sighs. “Da. There is just so much of gardening that must be done in such early hours. But do not worry, I am sure he will be finished in time for helping you move into our home.” She assures you with a smile.
Our home. The thought makes you giddy.
“Okay, I’ve already packed everything into boxes. They just need to be loaded into the truck now.” You inform her.
Dasha laughs. “Easy! You just tell me which boxes you are needing me to carry and where they go.”
Your smile is half-hearted at her words. “Are you sure? I don’t want to feel like I’m just ordering you around…”
“Nonsense! Lifting is what I love most, you are knowing this about me.” Dasha gets a thoughtful expression after she says this. “Well, second most. First most of course is Abel and you!”
Her confidence in her answer is enough to satisfy you. “Well, alright then. Let’s start moving some boxes!”
“Yes! That is the spirit!” She claps her hands and rubs them together. “Now, where are we starting first?”
“Let’s start upstairs, and work our way down.”
“Excellent idea!”
The morning passes by in a blur. There is much to move, but you and Dasha make short work of it. Or, well, Dasha does. She lifts multiple boxes onto her shoulders at a time, all of them heavy and practically bursting at the cardboard seams. If she sees you struggling to pick up a box, she always finds room on her shoulders to fit it. You fill the time with conversation, asking her how the soup kitchen is doing and listening as she talks about all the kind people she’s working with and helping as she carries the heavy boxes to the truck.
Finally, just before noon, you reach the last room: the office. The place Dasha had spent most of her time as an object before being turned into a human.
You watch as she takes in the state of the room, a nostalgic look on her as her gaze lands on the desk she once was, which is now completely bare, any and all knick-knacks that were on the surface having been packed into the box sitting beside it.
Gently, you elbow her in the ribs, pulling her out of her thoughts. “Remember when we first met? Officially, that is?” You ask.
Dasha hums, smiling at the memory. “How could I forget? You had come to me, looking for advice on how you might romance the other objects. Which was entirely unneeded, of course!”
“Oh, I dunno, I think your classes helped a lot!”
She lets out a laugh. “You say this, but do not forget that it was you who not only romanced me flawlessly on every single one of our fake dates, but brought I and Abel together.”
When she mentions your fake dates, you get an idea. “While we’re reminiscing, why don’t we relive our bowling date again?”
Your suggestion gets Dasha to blush. “Ah! You eh, wouldn’t happen to be suggesting…”
You don’t answer her with your words, but rather grab her by the hand and wrap an arm around her hip, quickly twisting her into a dip, with you on top of course. Exactly what you had proposed you do on the fake date all that time ago.
Dasha’s blush deepens, her face turning from a rose pink into a cherry red. “Oh! Oh my. Solnyshko…”
You smile at her flustered expression. “I think I remember you saying something about liking the idea of being ‘dipped like the fair maiden’.”
“Yes, I— I do recall saying that.”
“Do you also remember this part?” Leaning in, you give Dasha a kiss that you’re sure is sending her into a state of pure bliss.
She hesitates for half a moment before eagerly returning your kiss.
But of course, you’re certainly no Dasha, so eventually her large size becomes too much for your comparatively weak muscles to keep holding her up.
“Ah!”
“Woah!”
Both of you fall in a heap, Dasha on the floor and you on Dasha. You stare at each other for a moment before bursting into laughter.
You both eventually pick yourselves up and finish loading the remaining boxes into the moving truck, which is now positively packed with all your things.
As soon as the last box is in, you slam the trunk door shut with a satisfying CLUNK, and dust your hands off. “Alright! That’s everything. Thank you, Dasha!”
However, Dasha shakes her head. “Nyet. There is one more thing needing to be carried.”
You furrow your eyebrows. “What? No, I’m sure we got every box into the truck…” Did you forget one? Had there been a box Dasha saw that you somehow hadn’t accounted for—
Suddenly, you’re swept off your feet and into Dasha’s arms. “Ha! We cannot forget this! This is very important cargo.”
You gasp when you feel yourself being lifted. Dasha must have done this to you a million times, and yet you still find yourself caught off guard.
Dasha laughs at your startled expression, then leans in and kisses you on the forehead. “Now we may be going.”
Once you find your tongue again, you ask, “Is this because of what I did in the office?”
“Nonsense, I simply enjoy lifting you! Seeing you in my arms like this, like adorable deer in headlights, is more than enough incentive to continue doing it.” Then she tilts her head and shrugs. “But yes, that as well.”
And with that, she carries you to the passenger side of the car, opens the door with one hand while keeping her arms underneath you, and gently sets you onto the seat with a soft flumpf. “There you go. Now we go home.”
Yes. Home.