Work Text:
It starts, technically, on a dull and wet morning, in a gem of a used bookshop that Alina found on her third day on campus, a treasure trove that has already yielded half a dozen useful cartography texts that would have cost her at least $300 on Amazon but which she has snagged for exactly $92.
She’s up a rickety ladder, reaching for Planetary Cartography and GIS, when she slips and falls.
Instead of landing on the floor, however, a strong pair of arms catch her and dark eyes look down at her in mild amusement.
This chivalrous act, as well as his using his superior height to fetch the book for Alina, has the owner cooing and calling them “such a cute couple,” insisting on giving them both a coffee and cake on the house (the bookshop has a small café consisting of an ancient coffee machine, a small but delicious selection of homemade cakes, two chairs, one rickety table and a squishy armchair that usually has at least one cat lounging on it) before they can correct her assumptions.
Five minutes of awkward silence over chocolate brownies – “so sweet, how shy the two of you are,” the owner laughs, “I might be an old woman but I’m not about to judge a little canoodling” – melts into easy conversation about their respective degrees (she is a freshman studying Cartography and he is a senior Business major) and what they think of Os Alta University.
He learns she prefers tea to coffee when she barely touches her drink and she discovers his sweet tooth when he eats his brownie in two bites and eagerly accepts when she offers him half of hers.
They both decide to treat the owner’s misunderstanding of their (non-existent) relationship as a joke rather than a rom-com-esque set up – he’s focusing on his exams this year and she’s still raw from her break-up last month with her high school boyfriend Alexei – but they do exchange numbers.
It’s the beginning of a beautiful friendship.
It starts properly eight months later.
They are nervous the first time they do it.
Really, it’s part joke and part bet. Alina insists it will work, as long as they appear natural and genuine.
And it does. Alina sneaks him the ring she’d bought at a jewellery stall at the market earlier that day. Aleksander gets down on one knee and makes a heartfelt speech before asking her to marry him.
They sell it completely, the surrounding diners applaud and they are given a complimentary dessert and bottle of wine.
Later, rather tipsy on the wine, they laugh as they stumble out of the restaurant together.
“I can’t believe it worked!” Alina giggles loudly before Aleksander shushes her.
“You were right,” he admits, “guess I owe you $20.”
She shrugs, “considering they gave us a $30 bottle of wine and $10 dessert for free, I think I can forgive your debt, Sasha. On one condition.”
“What?” he asks warily.
She grins, “let’s do it again sometime.”
Aleksander is unsure – she might be a broke student, but he can certainly afford to pay – but he has to acknowledge it had been fun, a silly little game that offered them some amusement.
They don’t do it too often, never at the same place twice, and only at restaurants that can easily afford to lose a bottle of wine or champagne and a dessert.
And although they never say it out loud, they have a silent agreement never to tell anyone else what they’re doing. They aren’t really hurting anyone and they amuse themselves by making up over-the-top proposal speeches and betting on what exactly the restaurant might offer as a congratulations.
It’s just a bit of fun.
Two years later, after the seventeenth fake proposal, Alina crashes on Aleksander’s couch, his apartment being both more comfortable and also closer to the restaurant they’d visited.
And the next morning, they get an unpleasant surprise.
-----
“Fuck!”
Aleksander wakes suddenly at Alina’s screech.
“Linka?”
“Fuckfuckfuckfuck.”
“You’re starting to worry me, solntse.”
She shoves her phone in his face and he has to blink away sleep before he realises it’s a WhatsApp group.
Sasha and Alina FINALLY!!! he reads.
“What is this?”
“A disaster is what it is,” she mutters.
He looks at the members – him and Alina; her parents and Aunt Ana; her cousin Nina and Nina’s husband Matthias; Aleksander’s sister Ulla, his cousin Genya and his best friend Ivan, as well as their respective spouses Luda, David and Fedyor.
He doesn’t know what’s going on, but he has a very bad feeling about this.
“Aunt Ana’s nosy friend Irina was at the restaurant last night,” Alina tells him, “she recognised us, filmed the proposal and sent it to Ana, who promptly sent it to mama, papa and Nina.”
“And then Nina must have sent it to Ulla, Genya, Ivan and Fedyor,” Aleksander sighs, “but why would they just believe it? It’s not like we’ve been dating and surely you’ve told your family about Oretsev.”
“Oh, well,” Alina blushes, “they didn’t really like him when I brought him home to visit and so I just … stopped mentioning him. What about you and Liza?”
“Ended three weeks ago,” he admits, “sorry, never got around to telling you.”
Truthfully, he’s been avoiding mentioning it, simply because Alina will want to know why and he doesn’t want to embarrass either of them by repeating the accusations Elizaveta had made about them. He and Alina are just friends and it’s perfectly platonic, no matter what people think.
Really.
“We’re going to have to –” they start in unison.
“– tell them the truth,” Aleksander says.
“ – pretend to be engaged until we can find the proper moment to ‘break up’,” Alina suggests.
“Linka,” he chides her, “we can’t just lie.”
“We have to!” she waves her hands frantically, “read more of the group chat.”
He takes the phone and looks.
Oh.
Oh.
“How did they –?”
“Don’t underestimate the power of our family and friends – my parents have adored you ever since you visited the first time and regularly beg for you as a son-in-law, and you know Genya will take absolutely any opportunity to plan a party – didn’t she arrange Ivan and Fedyor’s wedding with eight hours of notice and do a better job than most people would with a year or two to plan?”
“She did,” he nods, because Genya is a force of nature and it should therefore be totally unsurprising to see that she has spearheaded an entire engagement celebration lasting a long weekend that the two of them are expected to arrive at – blissfully happy and with a ring for everyone to squeal over – two days from now.
“Fuck,” he drags a hand across his face.
“Exactly,” Alina nods.
“We still can’t just lie to them,” he argues.
“It’s not lying.”
“Yes it is.”
“Well, ok, it is. But it’s for a good cause. You know Gen will already have everything paid for and ready. It’d just be a waste to cancel.”
“We can’t fake being engaged for three and a half days, Linka.”
“How hard can it be? They already believe we’ve been secretly dating. It won’t be difficult to hold hands and kiss each other’s cheeks a bit.”
“Alina, have you met our friends and family? There’s no way they’ll be satisfied by a bit of mostly-platonic affection.”
“I’ll be fine,” she insists, “we can get through this, Sasha.”
Even as he nods along, trying to match her over-confident enthusiasm, Aleksander knows the truth.
This is going to blow up in their faces.
It’s not, Alina thinks, that Aleksander isn’t handsome and clever and funny and charming. But the two of them just want different things from life.
He is settled in his job now and she will start travelling for hers next month. He seems unwilling to commit (he’s never had a girlfriend for more than two months while she’s known him) and Alina is looking for long-term. She wants children and she once heard him saying to Elizaveta (when the woman had hypothetically named their children after a month of dating) that he doesn’t think he wants kids.
Such differences are fine when they’re friends, but she knows they’ll cause problems if they were anything more than that.
And Alina doesn’t want to lose Aleksander. He’s too important to risk that.
Still, she’s sure that it will be simple for the two of them to fake an engagement for a few days. They know each other so well and it’ll be straightforward to just play up their physical affection.
Their family and friends will be disappointed when they amicably break it off in a week or two, but once they see how Alina and Aleksander continue to be friends, everything will go back to the way it was before.
Right?
“Let me see the ring! Let me see the ring!” Genya squeals in excitement, the first one out of the Starkov house, where everyone has gathered to meet them.
Alina obligingly holds up her hand, the Morozov family ring sparkling on her finger.
It makes her uneasy, wearing an heirloom meant for Aleksander’s real fiancée, not for a girl whose silly choice of game has landed them both in this mad situation.
Still, it’s a beautiful piece of jewellery and Alina can’t help but keep staring at the way it shimmers and shines on her finger. At least her admiration is lending some credence to their charade.
Aleksander helps too, an arm slung comfortably over her shoulder, the slightest hint of pink spreading across his pale cheeks when they are congratulated, a fond look in his eyes when he presses a kiss to the crown of her head.
For a man who seemed totally against this charade, he really is doing a pretty marvelous job in selling it.
He stiffens ever so slightly when Genya insists on taking some pictures, but he smiles at her when they hold out their hands for the classic just engaged pose with a warmth that makes her beam back.
And then Nina, who has just arrived, loudly demands that “you should give her a proper kiss, Sasha! We’re in the 21st century, not the 18th.”
And there’s no other choice, really, not if they want their charade to be believed. Nina isn’t the sort to stay quiet if they just try to worm their way out of it.
Alina turns to Aleksander, trying to convey with her eyes that she’s sorry for what she’s gotten them into.
“We don’t have to,” he whispers, “I know you don’t want to, what with Oretsev.”
The terrible thing is that, in this moment, she kind of does want to kiss him. She’s always been aware how handsome he is but now, with his face so close and his hand in her hair, thumb stroking across her cheek (and when had that happened, she can’t quite recall), she can’t really think of anything except how soft his lips might feel against hers.
“We should just do it,” she murmurs.
“If you’re sure, Linka.”
“Nina will bug us until we do, you know that.”
She feels guilty, knowing she’s pretending this is all just to satisfy their family and friends rather than more her own curiosity.
But Alina cannot regret it, not when he lowers his head and kisses her.
She has kissed plenty of people. Guys and girls, experienced and not.
This, however, is a kiss.
Aleksander kisses like he’s getting drafted in the morning and isn’t sure he’ll ever see her again. All-encompassing and passionate and heated, her head in his hands while she finds herself holding onto him just so she doesn’t melt into a puddle on the floor.
Nina wolf-whistles loudly and starts applauding.
When they break apart, Alina is momentarily dazed and more than a little turned on. She knows a lot about Aleksander, but she never knew he could kiss like that.
“Sorry,” he mutters, almost bashful now, “I thought … well, it seemed sensible to be thorough.”
“Yes, thorough,” she murmurs, lifting her fingers to touch her lips, still not quite able to believe what has just happened.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, brow is furrowed in concern, “it was too much, I overdid it, didn’t I?”
“No,” she shakes her head vigorously, “no, it … it’s fine, really. Perfect.”
“Perfect?”
“For … for the fake engagement,” she quickly clarifies, even though in her heart she knows that’s not what she really meant when she said it.
“Right,” he nods, and she’s clearly still a bit dazed because, for a brief moment, he looks almost disappointed.
She must be seeing things.
“Urgh, you two are sickeningly adorable,” Nina pops up next to them, “I honestly thought you were never gonna get your heads out of your asses, but it turns out you were just hiding it all this time. How long have you guys been dating anyway?”
“Err …”
Alina turns to Aleksander with panic in her eyes. Aleksander’s had a number of girlfriends since they met and Alina still has Mal – she forgot how unrealistic it would seem for them to be engaged if they’ve only just started dating.
“Three weeks, technically,” Aleksander answers, “but we kind of feel like we’ve been unofficially – and obliviously – together for much longer.”
“Yes,” Alina nods, breathing a sigh of relief at his diplomatic answer.
“Well, thank the saints that you came to your senses and dumped Mal,” Nina says, “I can’t believe you dated him for so long.”
“Mal’s not so bad,” she mumbles, knowing that she’s supposed to be happily engaged but feeling like she needs to defend the guy who is actually her boyfriend.
“He always interrupted you, didn’t seem able to talk about anything but football, had the manners of barn animal, never apologised when he got drunk and made out with another girl –”
“He what?” Aleksander hisses angrily.
Nina, with an apologetic look, wisely decides to retreat as Alina shrugs, “I never mentioned it, Nina only knows because she was there. I knew everyone would just get angry and it was a stupid, drunken mistake so I forgave him and we moved on.”
Aleksander’s reaction – fuming anger and clenched fists – tells her it was probably the right decision not to mention it.
“That fuc–”
“Ok, time to go inside,” Alina grabs his arm and steers him towards the house.
Aleksander has never really warmed to Mal, always telling her that she deserves better, and the last thing they need to do right now is start an argument that might be overheard.
It’s so busy and chaotic inside the house that there is no time for Aleksander to interrogate her about Mal. There are congratulations to receive and people to hug.
And then …
“Presents!” Genya trills excitedly, gesturing to half a dozen gift bags on the living room table.
Fuck. Now she feels even more terrible – not only have they all arranged a number of celebratory events, they’ve even gone and gotten presents for an engagement that is as genuine as the plastic ring (won at a fairground game) that Aleksander used in his eighth fake proposal.
Not just any presents either. Thoughtful gifts that Alina can’t help but love despite her guilt over deceiving them.
The final gift is the best and the worst. A scrapbook filled with photos of her and Aleksander, as well as tickets and flyers from various events they’ve been to (and she really has no idea how they got their hands on so much stuff). It’s beautiful, reminding Alina of how much fun she and Aleksander have and how much she adores him, but it’s horribly sad too, to have it all laid out and making her realise how maybe, in another life, they maybe could have been the perfect couple everyone seems to think they are.
But it would never work between them. They want fundamentally different things, after all.
There’s only one bed.
“It’s alright,” Alina insists as Aleksander stares at the double bed with sunshine yellow bedding.
He nods absently. Surely she’s right, because it’s a big bed and they’re grown-ups, not silly teenagers, perfectly capable of sharing platonically.
He blinks back to awareness when Alina comes out of the bathroom in the world’s tiniest pair of cotton shorts and a tank top.
“Linka,” he mutters through gritted teeth, “what are you wearing?”
She looks down as if she never even thought to consider her pyjamas. Clearly, he is so far into the friendzone that it doesn’t even register with her that such an outfit might make it … uncomfortable for him to sleep right next to her. Aleksander likes to sleep naked, but he’s got on a loose pair of boxers and a t-shirt right now.
“This room gets hot at night,” she says, “you’re gonna sweat through that t-shirt.”
“Fine,” he pulls it off and tosses it to the side, unable to avoid smiling when he hears her intake of breath.
The two of them get into bed, carefully keeping to their respective sides, stiff and uncomfortable as they do their best not to touch.
“This is ridiculous,” Aleksander sighs after about fifteen minutes.
It’s never really been awkward between them and he hates that they’re now unsure and off-kilter.
“Can I cuddle you?” Alina asks in a small voice.
She’s tactile, he knows, just as he’s well aware that Oretsev thinks cuddling is childish and silly (yet another mark against the idiot). They’ve snuggled plenty of times on the couch before, while watching movies, so he’s sure they can manage it now without any weirdness, even if they’re both wearing less clothes than usual.
Alina is so important to him. He knows how much she likes to feel close to people, to know that they’re still there.
“Of course, Linka,” he wraps an arm around her and pulls her close.
Sleep comes easily after that.
“Aww, you two are so sweet.”
Alina wakes to find Genya, far too bright and chirpy for – she glances at the clock on her bedside table – 7am on a Saturday morning, standing over the two of them, David hovering apologetically behind her.
Her eyes narrow as she catches sight of the phone in the red-head’s hand, “Gen … you better not post any of the photos you’ve taken.”
“Oh, but they’re so perfect,” she passes the phone to Alina so she can see the picture on screen – her and Aleksander, fast asleep, hands entwined, her face smushed into the crook of his neck.
If Mal sees these photos, then he’ll go ballistic, no matter the innocent explanation.
“It’s all very new and we just want to keep it all private for a while,” she says, “or as private as possible.”
Genya pouts but then shrugs, “fine, I’ll save them for the wedding. I’ve got so many ideas – we have to talk as soon as possible.”
“Yeah, sure,” she mumbles non-committedly, “at some point.”
Aleksander had warned her that this wouldn’t be as simple as she thought it would. Alina is starting to realise what he meant.
“Well, time to get up. We’ve got a packed day ahead of us,” Genya smiles.
She almost skips out of the room. David follows, after another apologetic look.
Alina flops back against her pillow and groans. It’s going to be a very long day.
-----
First there is breakfast. Noisy and chaotic but, with all their favourite people around, Alina can’t really complain.
It’s the first time she’s been able to meet Ulla and Luda’s twins Lev and Larysa, adopted six months previously and only a few weeks away from celebrating their first birthday. She is surprised by how good Aleksander is with them, happy not only to cuddle and play with them, but also to get them to eat their mashed banana and the clean them up afterwards.
“I thought you didn’t like children?” she whispers.
He frowns, carefully wiping mashed banana from Larysa’s cheek, “why did you think that?”
“Well, I … I heard you telling Liza that you didn’t think you wanted kids.”
He scrunches his nose and laughs, “I just told her that because she freaked me out by naming our hypothetical children when we’d been together for like a month. I’d like kids, I think, with the right woman.”
Alina suddenly has a vision of Aleksander cradling a baby tenderly in his arms, one that has his nose and Alina’s –
Nope, she’s stopping that train of thought immediately.
So, she was wrong about the children thing, but she and Aleksander are still better as friends rather than anything more.
The rest of the day is full of couple activities.
An hour on a tandem bicycle. A cooking lesson. Chocolate making. Couple’s massages.
They have their friends and family by their side throughout, but most of it is designed for pairs, giving neither of them a break from their charade.
Strangely, after the first hour or so, it becomes easy. If they forget that they are supposed to be a couple and just act normally, then nobody seems to think it is strange. They are a little more touchy-feely than usual, and they each initiate a kiss or two, but it seems very natural and all the activities are a lot of fun when she lets herself relax a bit.
It’s never really like this with Mal. He likes to watch sports and go hunting, and isn’t interested in having her hang around for either. When they do go out, it’s usually for food or to a club, and he never really likes her suggestion of visiting the park or an art gallery or trying something new. Aleksander, on the other hand, is always willing to go with her.
Why are you still with that idiot? asks a little voice inside her head, one that sounds a lot like Aleksander.
And Alina doesn’t really know. She and Mal have been dating for ages, and she’s sure they used to have fun together, but now it’s just become a sort of habit.
Maybe it’s time to break up, though. Better to be single than dating someone she’s only with because she can’t be bothered to end it.
“I’m so happy for you, milaya,” mama smiles during their chocolate making session, as they both watch Aleksander eating more of the melted chocolate than he’s pouring into the molds, “he’s such a nice man, and he really does adore you.”
“Right,” she ducks her head, trying not to blush.
She’s the one who told Aleksander it would be easy to fool their family and friends. She didn’t think about how happy they would be and the disappointment and sorrow they’ll inevitably feel when Alina and Aleksander stop playing pretend.
“He’s so good with his niece and nephew. I was talking to him earlier – subtly, don’t worry, milaya – and I get the sense he’s definitely ready to settle down. Not like that flighty Oretsev boy.”
“I’m just a bit worried about work, mama. Sasha’s job is here and I’ll be travelling for mine.”
“These things aren’t the obstacle everyone thinks they are, Alina. Remember, your papa used to go to Ketterdam for work, he’d be there for three months at a time and I’d only get to visit once. I’m sure you and Sasha can work it out.”
Alina nods. She’d forgotten papa’s stories about working in Ketterdam before she was born. And if her parents had stayed together, even without easy internet access and messaging, then why wouldn’t she and Aleksander be able to do it too?
She shakes her head, though. They aren’t even together, so there’s no point thinking about it.
“Sasha,” she turns to him when mama has gone back to papa, “do you think couples can stay together even if one of them has to travel for work?”
“Of course,” he answers immediately, “I mean, it wouldn’t be easy, but lots of the best things in life take work. With all the technology now, though, it’s simpler than it used to be. The company I work for has quite a few people who work mostly remotely. Zoya’s husband Nik is a diplomat, so she travels with him. And Nadia’s girlfriend Tamar is an archaeologist, so Nadia often goes with her to dig sites.”
He pauses and his eyes narrow, “why are you asking, Linka? Is Mal telling you that you shouldn’t travel – I hope you’re not thinking of listening to him because this job is your dream and anyone that tries to make you lesser just for their own convenience doesn’t deserve you.”
“You’d travel with me ... I mean with your girlfriend?”
“If we were serious, then yeah. I mean, I can do my job – for the most part – pretty much everywhere.”
“Oh, that … that’s really good of you, Sasha.”
He says something else, but she doesn’t really hear it.
Alina has always told herself that it can’t work between her and Aleksander, that they can be friends but never anything else because of the difference in their lifestyles and goals for the future.
And yet, here she finds all her views challenged. Aleksander doesn’t dislike children, and he is clearly willing to travel and work remotely. All the reasons she’s given herself for why they’d never work are crumbling apart.
And now it seems like the only obstacles standing in her way are her relationship with Mal and her own inability to put her feelings into words and confess them to Aleksander.
“… yeah, look Mal, I think … I think it’s time we broke up … no … yes … we’re just not happy … well fuck you too, Mal!”
Aleksander walks in just as Alina growls and tosses her phone onto the bed.
“Are you alright, Linka?”
She sighs, “I broke up with Mal.”
Inside, Aleksander can’t help but rejoice. After all, Oretsev is an absolute idiot and Alina deserves far better than him. Still, he worries she might be upset and he doesn’t want to make it worse by admitting that he thinks it’s good riddance to bad rubbish.
“I’m sorry, Linka. I know you’d been together quite a while.”
“It’s alright. We were … I guess it was basically habit at this point, so it doesn’t really hurt.”
He envelopes her in a hug anyway, because she has a somewhat lost look on her face, like she isn’t quite sure what is happening right now.
“I can make an excuse for us to stay here if you’re not up to going to dinner. We’d probably have to endure some innuendos from Nina and Fedyor tomorrow morning, but we’ll survive.”
“No, no,” she shakes her head, “I’m fine, really. This is good – I need to reevaluate a few things anyway.”
Then, she looks up at him with a soft smile, eyes bright and affectionate.
And Aleksander feels brave and daring and reckless.
She’s only just broken up with Mal, has been single for mere seconds, and yet he can’t resist asking.
They’re friends. Good friends. Best friends. And yet, this charade is making him wonder if they couldn’t be more.
“Alina,” he starts, “do you think that we –”
But he’s interrupted by a knock on the door.
“Time to go to dinner,” Fedyor calls out cheerfully, “you two better be decent.”
And in the flurry of last-minute preparations, there’s no time to talk.
-----
“So … you and Alina,” Ivan murmurs as they wait for dessert.
Alina has gone down to the other end of the table to talk to with her parents and Aunt Ana. Everyone else is chatting. It’s just his best friend, staring at him like he knows something isn’t quite right about this engagement.
“Yes, what about us?” he asks, cool and casual, not at all like he has something to hide.
“I’m surprised you didn’t tell me.”
Ivan says it matter-of-factly, not hurt or jealous, only curious.
“We just wanted to keep it quiet, I guess.”
Ivan lets out a bark of laughter, “I don’t think the two were ever exactly quiet about it. No PDA, I’ll give you that, but all it takes is one look at the pair of you together to realise just how much you love each other.”
“Oh,” Aleksander says quietly, “we were that obvious, were we?”
“Sasha, you look at her like she’s the sun. I’ve never seen you like that with anyone. And ever since you met her, even back when you were dating other people, you couldn’t stop talking about her. Look at this map Alina made me of our home town – isn’t it remarkable! Alina and I went to see the new Juris exhibition. Alina taught me how to make mooncakes. Do you think Alina would like it if we went to Balakirev for her birthday?”
Aleksander ducks his head, somewhat embarrassed, but Ivan just pats him on the arm, “don’t worry, I’ve heard that Alina has been just the same. And her family are thrilled you’ve finally got it together – I’m pretty sure Nina had a voodoo doll of Oretsev at some point, but they all seem to think you’re the best thing since sliced bread.”
But it’s not real, he wishes he could tell his best friend, it’s just pretend, and sooner or later this is all going to fall apart.
Maybe it didn’t have to end like that, though. Alina has broken up with Oretsev, and if he can just find a moment to confess to her that his love for her may not be entirely platonic, then perhaps this can all be as real as he is beginning to wish it is.
“You really think she loves me?”
Ivan looks at him like he’s crazy, “she agreed to marry you, Sasha! And even without that, the girl looks at you with the same heart eyes that you have when you moon over her.”
Aleksander can’t help it. He beams so widely that Ivan grimaces, muttering about dopey idiots in love.
He doesn’t care, though. It feels like he has hope.
Another night spent sharing a bed.
Alina doesn’t even bother trying to draw up some boundaries. There’s nothing in the world like one of Sasha’s cuddles, after all, and it’s stupid to deprive herself of one.
Besides, she and Mal are broken up now. She wouldn’t be doing anything wrong even if the two of them were stark naked and all over each other.
That thought makes her stomach swoop.
When they’re tucked up in bed, Alina finally resolves that she has to say something.
“Sasha –”
“Linka –”
“You go –”
“Sorry, I interrupted –”
“No, really, you can –”
“Please, go ahead and –”
“Iloveyou,” Alina blurts out, before clapping her hands over her mouth.
He stares at her, slack-jawed, “sorry, Linka, I think I misheard you. Can you repeat –”
“I love you,” she whispers.
She can’t look him in the eyes, terrified that she might find rejection there.
But he puts a finger under her chin, tilting her head up. And all she sees in his expression is profound relief and joy and love.
“Sasha?”
“I love you too, Linka,” he leans down and kisses her gently.
It’s everything a kiss should be, everything she’s always dreamed of and never quite found before.
His thumb strokes across her cheek when they break apart, “I can’t believe I ever convinced myself that we were better off as friends.”
Alina laughs, “well, I suppose we’re both as foolish as each other. I … I thought you didn’t want a family, and that you’d never want to travel with me, and in one weekend I’ve realised none of that is true.”
“Well, we figured it out in the end,” he smiles down at her, his dark eyes soft and warm, “and you know I’ll go with you, don’t you? There’s no one else I’d rather see the world with than you, Linka.”
And of course, Alina has to kiss him again. There’s really nothing for it.
It’s been a long time coming, after all.
The next morning, when everyone gathers for brunch, they notice that both Aleksander and Alina seem in particularly high spirits.
“We’re engaged,” Alina giggles.
“Yeah, we know,” Nina rolls her eyes, “that’s kind of what we’ve been celebrating all weekend.”
“We’re engaged,” Aleksander murmurs, staring into Alina’s eyes like he hasn’t even realised anyone else is in the room.
“If I’d known they were going to be this sickeningly sweet,” Ulla sighs, “then I wouldn’t have been quite as excited to find out they were getting married.”
“I’d get used to it if I were you,” Genya tells her knowingly, “I have a feeling that they’re going to be like this forever.”