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Being with Zarya required a surprising lack of scepticism. She would always utter the boldest proclamation with outmost sincerity, so much so that even if it was clearly just a boast, it seemed undeniable. When Zarya said, with her chest puffed up and her face in a prideful sneer: “I am Mother Russia,” Mei almost believed her. At least, she imagined that Zarya was expressing what she believed to be true – she was a wholly honest person, after all, never holding back her opinions or ideas.
But it took some time to get used to. At the beginning of their relations, Mei could merely smile politely and nod when Zarya told her tales heroic and wild, pertaining to herself or her mother country, but as time went on, and their intimacy grew with it, it became clear that the stories would not cease in exaggerations, however well-meaning they were.
Mei didn’t want to hurt her feelings and so she kept the scepticism hidden behind her smile. Zarya was perceptive on the battlefield, Mei knew, but in intimate situations she was more often than not completely clueless. It was endearing, if only slightly annoying, but it wasn’t something Mei could hold against her. Even so, and she should have guessed as much, there was a limit to how much she could just nod and pretend she believed whatever Zarya said, and likewise a limit to how much Zarya could be oblivious to it.
It was when they watched a documentary together on International Geographic about bears that the dam broke. Zarya nodded appreciatively at the majesty of the animals on the screen, her large, bulky arm around Mei’s shoulders, tightening as she said: “Did I ever tell you I battle big, fuzzy Siberian bear with my bare hands, and won?”
Mei looked up to her, the monologue of the show muted, and faced that proud, scarred, handsome face with what must have been an expression of doubt. When realisation dawned on Zarya, Mei immediately regretted not being a better actor, even though there wasn’t a flicker of hurt on her partner’s face.
”You don’t believe me?”
Zarya sounded more astonished than upset, as if though someone having doubt in her word was a foreign concept. It was certainly plausible that she would think it unlikely.
“It is not that I don’t have faith in you,” Mei started, putting her hands between them to wave away the trouble. “I know you’re amazing, Aleksandra.” Flushed, as the arm was so tight around her, she added: “And so strong. But, everyone embellishes their triumphs, even subconsciously. So, maybe you weren’t exactly bear-handed-“ suddenly realising the pun, Mei cut herself of in the middle of her speech to snort, wondering if it had been deliberate on Zarya’s part to begin with.
After learning of Mei’s love for puns, she had pushed herself to become better at planting them in her English, though it was still a work in progress.
While Mei spoke, struggling to amend what she feared to be a case of hurt feelings, Zarya unwrapped the arm around her and reached for her phone on the couch table. While Mei was paused, she flicked through the pictures stored in it.
Stubbornly, Zarya scrolled through the endless gym-selfies, and the pictures she had taken of Mei’s sleeping form, half-awakened state and embarrassing morning hair. They were numerous indeed, but eventually the search came to a halt, and Mei went from peeking over Zarya’s lovely bicep to having the screen shoved into her face.
“Look,” Zarya said, triumphant as ever. “I have proof.”
Blinking, Mei took in the picture, where Zarya was indeed single-handedly wrestling a bear. With her arms bare of clothing and equipment, and using just one hand to subdue the fierce creature.
“How?“ Mei said, grabbing the phone to keep it still and observe the picture even closer. Yet, and she had found this out early on, Zarya was not techy enough to have altered it, and in fact detested such programs, finding them Omnic-like (despite Mei’s protests). “Just how?”
Zarya thought the bewilderment to have been about the picture’s existence, rather than its contents, and so she replied: “I take picture with selfie-stick.”
Mei shook her head, pushing the phone back into her palm.
“You continue to astound me,” she said. Relaxing into Zarya’s arms again, she made herself comfortable in this knowledge.
“That is good thing. We must be ever vigil. Else the Omnics will have an opportunity to strike once more.”
It was a point of disagreement in their relationship, but Mei had been making progress, so much so that Zarya treated Snowball more like an unwanted dog she had accepted for her partner’s sake, rather than a potentially lethal machine out for revenge. She didn’t like it in her bedroom.
“Well, I don’t think it hurts to be sceptical,” Mei offered. “But I trust you fully, you know that, don’t you? It’s just that sometimes, you say such… blizzare things. Things I wouldn’t believe from anyone else but you.”
She waited, sneaking up a glance at Zarya to see if she understood her joke. Eventually, Zarya’s face broke into a grin.
“I get it, like blizzard!” She laughed heartily, before sobering, and agreeing. “Yes, I am stronger than anyone else.”
“It’s overwhelming.”
Zarya observed her for a still second, unusually pensive.
“You are over-whelming too, Mei. I battle bear and won, but you defeat cold.” The mood turned serious by the simple change in Zarya’s garrulous voice, and the TV program had changed to something neither of them noticed in the background. Her eyes were deep and almost intimidating as she stared down Mei with complete reverence.
“Ask anyone in my country, what is most dangerous thing, they will say it is the winter. Not the Omnics, not the bears, but the nature of Siberia. But you survived it when no one else could, and you subdue it, like I subdue bear.”
Even though she spoke of cold, Mei only felt warm.
“When you told me your story it was me who was over-whelmed and in disbelief.” Zarya stroke her cheek and smiled. She ran a finger down Mei’s nose and said: “It is, as you say, a-Mei-zing.”
This time it was Mei whose reaction was delayed, but when she registered the pun she burst out laughing, pushing Zarya away from her to get space to breath. Dizzy and happy, she could only answer the affection like so, but knew it was accepted.
It occurred to her, much later, when they had turned in for bed and Zarya was snoring through Mei’s incredibly essential earbuds, that Zarya’s impressive tales, when shared with others, didn’t just include herself and her countrymen, but Mei as well. And that maybe, her own feat truly was on par with strong-arming a bear when told to someone else, and seemed just as unlikely.
Snuggling up to Zarya, she breathed against her strong back, finding comfort there in the not-at-all exaggerated strength. Though she was used to questioning everything as a scientist was meant to do, she had never once been sceptical about love.