Chapter Text
It was early morning in a new city. The image of crossing the border and finally breaking free from Russia was still fresh in their minds.
Though they had worked together to slip out of the country—and make it within an inch of their lives—after months of living together they had not adapted to living together so well.
Dmitry’s chest heaved as he dug his hands into his hips. He had looked everywhere. He generally was not so careless to misplace his belongings—years of living on the streets had taught him to be wiser.
He rubbed his temple as he looked around the room. It couldn’t be that he was this absent-minded.
With another sweep, he tried again, searching under his coat, through his suitcase, even through Vlad’s things, dismantling the room.
There seemed to be something he had forgotten, and it wasn’t just where he had misplaced his shirt.
“Good morning,” Anya chirped as she walked through the adjoined suite.
Dmitry’s mouth gaped as he looked at her. Somehow he was certain a flannel utility shirt was not part of her wardrobe. His finger pointed at the shirt she was wearing but he was speechless. She had rolled the sleeves that were much too long for her and the shirt hung loosely on top of her nightdress.
“Is that my shirt?” He asked.
“Hmm,” Anya looked down at the shirt she was wearing. “You mean our shirt?”
Dmitry balled his hand into a fist to stop himself from lurching at her. Vlad’s words of having patience with her echoed in his mind. But she was making this very difficult.
“Where did you get that?” He demanded.
“My room was cold last night.” Anya didn’t seem too concerned about the matter.
“Hmm, that doesn’t answer my question,” Dmitry sneered.
“I actually think it does,” Anya replied nonchalantly. “I was cold and needed an extra layer of warmth. What’s mine is yours, and yours is mine, right?”
Dmitry squeezed his eyes shut to keep his temper from boiling over. “We don’t live under the new order anymore!” He barked. “We wouldn’t be going through this ordeal if it weren’t for that!”
Anya slid the shirt over her head and tossed it at him without another word.
Dmitry fumbled to catch it as he caught a glimpse of her leaving the room. He clenched his jaw as he straightened it out and pulled it over his head. As he glared in her direction, he tucked the tails of his shirt into his pants and pulled his suspenders over his shoulders with a frown.
The sun had barely risen and he already resented her.