Chapter Text
With puffy eyes and a fire in his heart, Valerya Zaytsev gets out of bed for the first time today.
Soft creaking of the floorboards makes Roman sigh. “You’re getting bad again,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to Valya’s cheek when he sits down on his roommate’s lap.
Valya, however, could not care less. All he wants is for his darling to know he’s still alive.
“Can I cook tonight?” asks the shorter man, earning a nod from Roman.
“If you don’t feel like it when it is time to make dinner, then I can make something.”
“That’s okay.”
Roman pulls Valya close, one hand gently squeezing the fat of his thigh while the other holds carefully on the back of his neck, settling the other in his arms.
“Я так горжусь тобой. Ты исправляешь свой график сна, да? Медленно, но... Мне приятно видеть, как ты стараешься.”
Valya cannot help but crack a smile, “The Moscow depression really got to me, you know?”
”That was a horrible joke,” replies Roman, though he laughs.