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“Hey! Stop fussing over me!”
“I’m not fussing. You got hurt,” Sonya retorts, her eyes narrowing into her best attempt at an intimidating glare as she tries to hold down a thrashing, bleeding Rodion. “You stay still or I’ll have to sit on you to bandage you up.”
Rodion gives up with a loud, exaggerated sigh and flops back onto the dingy mattress Sonya is trying to treat her on. “Whatever,” she grunts, holding out her bloody arm to her friend.
“Thank you,” Sonya says, exasperated, and sits down next to her, holding a bottle of vodka and a roll of gauze. “It’s a good thing you shoplifted these, I guess,” she concedes, holding up the roll. “And… try not to be loud, okay? I don’t want them to know where we went.” Rodion’s lips curve up into a victorious smirk that only stays there for a split second, followed up by her immediate shriek of pain as Sonya douses the gash in her arm with a splash of one-hundred proof vodka.
“Сука блядь!” Rodion hisses, and gets a nasty look in response.
“Quiet,” Sonya whispers loudly, slapping a hand over Rodion’s mouth, though there’s a flash of pained sympathy in her eyes. “Lift your arm.” She quickly begins to swaddle Rodion’s bicep in gauze, finishing her treatment by biting the section of bandage off of the roll once she has enough material and tucking the ragged section underneath more gauze in a messy wrap.
Rodion lets out a long, shaky breath, blinking tears out of her eyes, and Sonya sighs too, both relieved it’s over. Rodion’s hand shyly brushes against Sonya’s and Sonya takes it; that’s Rodion’s cue to turn and cuddle up to her, flinching slightly as her injured arm brushes against Sonya’s. Sonya accepts her embrace and curls around her in turn. She gives Rodion a kiss on the head, then giggles when Rodion buries her face into her neck.
“Sorry I hurt you,” Sonya murmurs, lifting a hand to run her fingers through Rodion’s short, choppy hair. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“…S’okay. You were helping.” It takes a few moments for her to finish calming down, but Rodion eventually cheers up enough to lift her head and rub noses with Sonya; the other girl laughs again, pulling her closer. “It was my fault I got hurt, not yours… Those assholes. I just wish we had rubbing alcohol or somethin’...”
Sonya’s response is a quiet little hum; she begins to look over Rodion’s arm, prodding at the gauze. She’s met with another hiss of pain as Rodion jerks to pull free from her grasp.
“Okay, I’m un-forgiving you! No reason to be doing that—hey— you already bandaged it, that’s just— ow!”
“You know how sometimes you try to help stray cats and they swat you because they don’t understand that you’re trying to help them?” Sonya asks snidely, to which Rodion stops squirming and shoots Sonya the most betrayed expression she can muster. “...Sorry. I’m not just torturing you for no reason, though, I’m trying to see if it’s still bleeding. It’s not.” Sonya lets go, then rethinks it, leaning down to press a little playful kiss over the gauze first. “All better, you big baby.”
Rodion puffs out her cheeks in response and glowers at Sonya, her cheeks dusted with a faint rosy pink. “You can warn me next time. And I’m not a baby! I’m always saving your mean little ass!” Sonya rolls her eyes, and Rodion bristles even more. “Don’t you— why are you only mean to me?!”
“‘Cause I’m comfortable enough to be mean to you,” Sonya teases. “You should feel honored. You’re right, though, you are always saving me. My prince charming.” Sonya moves in to cuddle again, and like every other time, Rodion forgets what she was mad about, melting against her friend’s body heat.
She immediately averts her eyes, resting her chin on Sonya’s head just so that she can’t see the blush on her face. “Oh, don’t call me that. I’m not a prince; I’m not even a boy.” The comment makes her heart throb in a new, interesting way; she's almost surprised that she isn't offended by this. Maybe she should be. It gives her butterflies in her stomach, though, instead of wounding her. That Sonya trusts her enough to let her protect her makes her feel strangely soft.
Sonya snickers under her breath, but her tone softens. “I’m not sure there’s ever been a princess charming. You’ll have to be a prince for now, my prince. Your hair is short enough.”
Rodion leans back so fast that Sonya falls on top of her with an indignant yelp, scrambling to keep her purchase. Rodion stares at her friend with furrowed brows. “You don’t think it’s ugly, do you? Should I grow it out?”
Sonya blinks; she looks bewildered for a moment, tilting her head at Rodion. “What? No, of course not. I think it’s cute. Plus, you’re always fighting other kids… Isn’t that why you keep it short, so it’s less dangerous?” Her expression twists into a repentant frown. “I’m sorry that it came out that way. I like you the way you are.” In an act of consolation, Sonya takes both of Rodion’s hands into hers; she’s warm, and Rodion can’t help but squeeze her hands. At that, a smile curls onto Sonya’s lips. “You’re my favorite. …Thanks for always protecting me. It’s not like I have anyone else looking out for me.”
Rodion knows Sonya can see the way her face heats up after hearing that, and she clears her throat before her friend’s smile can turn into a smirk. “It’s no biggie,” she coughs, her act of nonchalance failing pretty miserably; Sonya notes it, smile growing. “I guess I am pretty cool, huh? You’d have been dead meat forever ago if I wasn’t here~”
Sonya opens her mouth to say something (presumably, “that’s the point I was making…”) but then closes it with a soft laugh, shaking her head and laying it back down on Rodion’s chest. Her eyes flutter shut, and she grabs at the blanket at her feet until she gets a good hold on it, then drags it over their bodies to protect them from the chill. It’s summer; that being said, the summers of District 25 are the equivalent to a late autumn of any other District. The frost from the night before still glimmers on the concrete, the ambient air not warm enough to chase it away. Rodion coos in appreciation for the blanket, sparing a glance to her discarded jacket, and wraps her arms around Sonya, closing her own eyes in contentment too. The two of them are quiet for a moment, huddled up under the fleece, each basking in the warmth of the other girl.
Sonya finally speaks up, and Rodion, who looks like she was falling asleep, blinks herself into consciousness. “I mean it when I say I appreciate you. I’m… I’m happy those kids didn’t follow us back here. I was already angry enough that one of them slashed your arm like that…” Her voice is soft, and she lifts a hand to carefully take another look at Rodion’s arm. This time, she’s gentle, running her thumb over the skin just below the gauze bandages.
Rodion hums quietly in happy acknowledgment, eyes hooded—she’s sleepy from exerting herself without replacing her energy, and Sonya tilts her head to check on her. “Of course,” Rodion finally says, a little too elated at the gentle touches Sonya is stroking her bicep with. Her stomach growls just after, and Rodion’s content expression morphs into a cranky scowl before it can even stop. “I wish I could just turn that shit off somehow,” she grumbles, narrowing her eyes. “I already know how hungry I am. Stop reminding me, am I right?” She offers Sonya a half-humorous grin.
When she looks at Sonya, though, Sonya is beaming; she starts rummaging through her jacket pocket almost frantically, and Rodion raises her eyebrows quizzically. After a few moments, Sonya finds what she’s looking for and triumphantly holds it up; out from her pocket comes a crumpled ball of tinfoil, and Rodion is immediately taken in by the faint smell of edibility.
“I stole it out of a man’s hand when he wasn’t looking,” Sonya says, puffing out her chest.
“I could kiss you on the mouth right now,” Rodion breathes, “You answered my prayers. You’re an angel. God sent you to take care of me when he noticed that my mom didn’t want me anymore,”—and Sonya flushes pink, shaking her head as a soft, nervous laugh bubbles out of her chest.
“Don’t joke like that, that’s—”
“Mhm, fucked up, I know, but it’s what happened—can I please have that.”
“Are you drooling?” Sonya giggles and pries the foil open—all it is is a chunk of bread, but it’s warm, fresh from a bakery. The man she’d grabbed it from must have been pretty well off to be able to visit a place like that; even bread is hard to come by for the two of them, much less soft, freshly baked bread. She hands her precious cargo to Rodion, who does the sign of the cross before sinking her nails into it and tearing it neatly in half.
When she tries to pass one of the warm halves to Sonya, Sonya holds up her palms, a little smile gracing her lips. “It’s okay, you can have it. I got it for you.”
“You already know that isn’t happening,” Rodion snorts, dragging one of Sonya’s hands down and pressing it flat to set the bread in it. “We’re in this together, and I will force feed you if it comes to that. And you know I will do that.”
“Really, it’s okay—”
“I’ll have to sit on you to feed you,” Rodion threatens, mimicking her friend, and Sonya bursts into soft laughter, finally taking the bread from her.
“You win, Rodya. Will you at least take an extra bite, though?” She gazes up at Rodion with pleading violet eyes, and the worry in her gaze shines through despite her attempt to mask it with something more lighthearted. Every bite counts for them. Rodion pauses, hesitates, lifts a hand, pulls it back—finally, she does take the extra morsel that Sonya gives her, unable to refuse extra food.
The two of them take their first bites at the same time. It’s the best thing they’ve eaten since the fresh fruit they’d gotten from a tourist months ago, and both girls let out soft, happy sighs. Good food is rare at best, inaccessible at worst; a lot of their diet consists of things nobody could be proud of eating, stale breads and potato skins, the occasional mushy produce. Sonya cuddles into Rodion’s chest again, and Rodion wraps her free arm around her, pulling her as close as she can. The two of them eat slowly, savoring the rare, pleasant treat.
A few minutes later, Sonya laughs softly to herself, and Rodion tilts her head down to look at her. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” Sonya murmurs, a big smile on her face. “I was just thinking.”
“...About?”
She laughs again. “I just… don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get a boyfriend. It’d be too awkward… because I think if I did, I’d just compare him to you. I’m scared I wouldn’t be able to like him as much as I like you.”
Rodion hides a flustered smile under her free hand. “You’re a weirdo, Sonya.”
Sonya lifts her head and kisses the gauze over Rodion’s arm again. “Yeah, I know.”