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The snow was falling in thick, lazy flakes over Snezhnograd, painting the cobblestones in a blanket of pristine white. Outside the bustling warmth of a small, tucked-away pastry shop, Odette Spessiva stood with her posture as rigidly straight as ever, her hands neatly folded over the dark coat wrapped tightly around her.
If anyone from the Korolevskiy Troupe, or worse, the Fatui, saw her right now, she would probably try to pass it off as a "mandatory surveillance patrol."
She was waiting. And for Odette, waiting without checking a pocket watch or mentally cataloging a training schedule was entirely unprecedented.
A sudden, light touch on her arm broke her concentration.
"Boo," a cheerful, melodic voice whispered right beside her ear.
Odette didn't jump, her reflexes were far too honed by late-night combat for that, but her violet eyes widened by a fraction. She turned to see Vodyanitsa standing there, wrapped in a heavy teal cloak trimmed with white faux fur, her gray eyes sparkling with pure mischief and a faint pink ring catching the glow of the streetlamps.
"You're late, Voda" Odette said, defaulting instantly to her coolest, most composed theatrical tone, though the briefest twitch at the corner of her lips betrayed her.
"I am not late, I was securing provisions," Vodyanitsa retorted, pulling a small, wrapped package from her pocket and dangling it triumphantly. "Which, by the way, includes two roasted sweet potatoes and a bag of warm spiced nuts. Essential gear for surviving a trek through the tundra with a walking glacier."
"I am not a glacier," Odette murmured, turning away to start walking down the path, though she deliberately slowed her brisk pace so Vodyanitsa could match her stride.
"Keep telling yourself that, snowflake," Vodyanitsa giggled, stepping up right beside her. Without a word of warning, she slid her bare hand, warmed by a thick glove on one side, but currently ungloved, straight into Odette’s pocket, wrapping her fingers right around Odette’s cold ones.
Odette stiffened slightly, her breath catching in her throat. Her first instinct, born from years of emotional suppression and guarded isolation, was to pull away. But the warmth radiating from Vodyanitsa’s hand was steady, unyielding, and impossible to ignore. Slowly, Odette’s fingers relaxed, her gloved hand shifting to return the hold, locking their fingers together inside the coat pocket.
They walked in comfortable silence for a while, the rhythmic crunch of their boots on fresh snow the only sound accompanying them. They weren't heading toward the theater, nor toward any Fatui training ground. For once, there were no lines to rehearse, no reports to file, and no targets to track. There was just the quiet, softly lit city and the space they carved out for each other.
Eventually, they reached a quiet stone bridge overlooking a frozen canal, where the ice caught the pale moonlight like a shattered mirror. Vodyanitsa came to a halt, leaning against the stone railing and letting out a happy sigh as she watched her breath fog up in the air.
"It's nice, isn't it?" Vodyanitsa murmured, her playful tone softening into something much more gentle. "No stage lights. No strict critics. Just... us."
Odette looked over at her. The moonlight kissed the crystal-like, icy blue patches on Vodyanitsa’s skin, making her look every bit the mythical water spirit the stories claimed. But beneath the ethereal, dangerous allure of the siren, there was just Vodyanitsa—warm, vibrant, and fiercely persistent enough to crack open the frost around Odette's heart.
"Yes," Odette whispered, her voice dropping all its usual guards, sounding smaller, truer, and entirely sincere. "It's... nice."
Vodyanitsa beamed, her eyes lighting up. She reached into her pocket with her free hand, unwrapped one of the warm roasted sweet potatoes, and broke off a small piece, holding it right up to Odette's lips.
"Here. Eat. You've been practicing ballet since five in the morning, I know you're starving, Odie" Vodyanitsa said playfully, though her gaze was tender.
Odette opened her mouth to protest that she didn't need to be babied, but the sweet, comforting scent of the food won out. She ate the small piece quietly, a faint, rare blush dusting her pale cheeks.
"Well?" Vodyanitsa tilted her head, a teasing smile playing on her lips. "Does the great prima ballerina approve of my survival rations?"
Odette looked at her for a long moment, her hand still tightly laced with Vodyanitsa's inside the coat pocket. For once, she didn't deflect with a formal line from a script or hide behind a cold exterior.
Instead, Odette stepped a fraction closer, letting her shoulder lean gently against Vodyanitsa's.
"It's adequate," Odette murmured softly, the ghost of a genuine smile finally gracing her face. "Though... I suppose I wouldn't mind if you stayed to share the rest of it."
Vodyanitsa’s smile widened into something radiant, her laughter ringing out like light waves against the frozen night. She leaned her head right against Odette’s shoulder, content to let the bitter Snezhnayan cold do its worst, knowing it didn't stand a chance against the warmth they had found in each other.