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Anniversary

Summary:

Kratcy arranges a romantic evening for Yoshka.

Notes:

Almost Blue by Chet Baker - https://youtube.com/watch?v=I5l0jkC71Yk&si=_5O5vYBYFnAK3kKH

Work Text:

Propping up the area above your eyes, you patiently observe the setting. It's a little dark, but the candles on the table give out the right atmosphere. You hope. Muted swing jazz is playing in the background, mixed with quiet traditional pop, not without distortions of course. Sneezes were horrible when you pulled out the records, your dust allergies are terrible. But you could handle it. 

He was supposed to be here an hour ago. So you whiled away the time by sitting in front of the table, in reality prolonging it to infinity. Eh.

Wooden table under your eyes. Sometimes you want to eat all the furniture in the house, by God, but so far you've stopped at toothpicks. Especially since they're already pretty sharp besides the splinters, that was a pro for you. 

You covered your eyes, intensifying the smell of fish mixed with rice and something else. Thank heavens Ё wasn't a vegetarian, otherwise you'd be racking your brain for something decent to cook. 

Mh...

Maybe... he dumped you? No, he wouldn't dare. But at the same time…

Kratcy, also known as the eleventh and best letter of the alphabet, stop torturing yourself internally already! It looks pathetic, and you're too... damn good for that. Better than the others. Definitely! Ha! Ha-ha…

Christ. You want to finally give in to acuphagia and get it over with. If only you could be killed so easily... Being dependent on the writing of the external universe is a fucking curse. You’re a living bullshit. Who the fuck would give letters their own consciousness?! 

And the great thing about this story is that some symbolars are uncomfortable with their appearance. 

What's wrong with Yulka?! Why does he walk and behave like a cat, but at the same time he takes a place of importance over the same relatively intelligent Fawzi?! Although, those are already questions for Az and his adjustments. A nasty, hypocritical letter, with a favoritism approach to his duties. Ugh.

Looking at such personas you say to yourself that you're lucky you're at least relatively symmetrical. Wait, and you're calling that lucky?! What-

Suddenly you hear a dazed gasp, interrupting your inane musings and opening your eyelids.

“Did you make this by yourself?!”

Yoshka's here. It's good. You guess so…

He was so childishly surprised. His eyebrows went far upward, cartoonishly logical beyond his body. His fists closed over his cheeks, his mouth opened wide. Staring at your cooking.

Pfft. 

“And you doubt it?”

You grinned, finally removing your hand from face to stare at him slyly. 

“No, not that!” he wrung his hands awkwardly fast.  “It's just…” he gave you a sympathetic look, starting to nervously rub fingers against each other. “I thought you've been feeling a little... heavy lately. You shouldn't have gone to all that trouble.”

“What's so hard about it... You just twist here and there, and there's this gibberish. Don't ruin your holiday with unnecessary stress.”

“W- holiday?!” he's starting to sweat. “Oh-oh, Holy Cyrillic, I-” he closed his eyes in shame, shaking his head, ”I completely forgot!" 

“Dear,” you got up from the table, heading towards him. “It's okay,” you took him by his supposed shoulders, your left palm sliding over his right to bring your fingers together. “The fact that you came at all is already a good thing.”

Ooh, Mr. Kratcy, you’re a liar! Manipulator, scoundrel, predator, sadist, sinner, murderer, anarcho-communist with god syndrome. The ideas in Mein Kampf may be idiotic and illogical to you, but still....

“I'm also late, I'm so ashamed, Kratcy…” he looked sideways, lowering the volume of his voice. “But I really didn't mean to, Eteri asked me to-”

“Shh...” you put your index finger to his lips, causing him to react in a stunned but mute manner. “Don’t overthink it.”

Please forget it, or I'll never forget it myself.

He stares at you for a few seconds, then takes the reason for the silence by the wrist with his free hand, smiling slightly.

“Okay, romantic,” he kisses your cheek softly and quickly, making you cover your eyes for a moment from the sudden warmth inside. - “I love you very much.”

He does. Surely. Only in your wet dreams.

“And I you.”

Liar. Liar, liar, liar.

“Please sit down, I've tried my best for you.”

He nods and obeys your request.

He can't know. He can't know that you depend on him, and that he fills the void that you constantly wish to destroy along with the shell. 

However, it is only a matter of time. 

He will surely leave you and you will be alone, as always. Only the slaves you've created will remain, and only out of fear.

But until that happens... You'll eat sushi with him instead of wood with blades. And listen to him laugh, look at his happy face. And think you're the reason he's so happy.

At least you'll have a little bit of that illusion of happiness.