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A Little Something Sweet
Vodyanitsa is not one for rock-solid sweets, but there is a particular flavor she wants to try. Her colleagues speak so highly of it that curiosity gets the better of her. Odette tells her it tastes like cotton candy at a carnival in a faraway summer land. How interesting… a candy that tastes like cotton and summer, the complete opposite of this cold and ruthless nation.
“Then, can I have one, Odette?” Vodyanitsa asks her colleague. The three staff members comb and braid Odette’s hair and adjust the swan-like feather accessories around her head. Unlike Vodyanitsa, who lounges on the settee, Odette sits still and stoic in front of the mirror. Barely any emotion crosses her face as she tells the water imp about the candy, though Vodyanitsa is the one pressing her about the confectionery gifts Mitya gave everyone.
“I don’t have it anymore,” Odette says calmly. “I gave it away.”
“Gave it away?!” Vodyanitsa rises from the settee, clenching both fists in front of her chest.
“They weren’t that good,” Odette says. “But the traveler likes them so much, so I gave them to her.”
Vodyanitsa pouts. No one wants to share with her when the candies are so expensive. Just when she thinks she might talk Odette into giving her some, the Traveler beats her to it.
“Geez!” She groans. Her pout deepens. Then, she realizes all eyes are on her. She likes attention, but only when she performs and is at her best. Not when she’s sulking over some candy. She clears her throat and coughs, acting all normal again, just enough for the staff to resume their work. Still, the frustration lingers, and her shoulders slump as her gaze meets the floor.
It is so unfair that Mitya singles her out. Vodyanitsa has been ill for the past few days, but the theater doesn’t stop performing just because she is sick. When she returns, she learns Mitya has paid a backstage visit, bringing gifts and sweets to the performers. Apparently, he has earned quite a bonus from a recently completed project. Vodyanitsa isn’t the only one who was absent from the previous performance, but everyone else receives their shares of the solid-candy gifts.
Everyone except her.
Is he really a fan of hers? He says he is. Or is he just mocking her because he knows she’ll forgive him for barely noticing her on stage? If that’s the case, then Mitya is so cruel.
She turns back to Odette and finds her staring.
“W-what is it? Is there something on my face?”
“I thought you didn’t like hard candies,” Odette says, her violet eyes wavering.
Vodyanitsa doesn’t. But everyone has been raving about these candies, especially because Mitya got them from a famous confectioner.
“I usually don’t,” Vodyanitsa says. “But--” she swallows the words.
But they were gifts from Mitya.
For a moment, Odette looks hesitant.
“I apologize,” Odette says. “I should’ve asked you first.”
“That’s okay,” Vodyanitsa says, waving her hands. “You didn’t know.”
This is never Odette’s fault. Vodyanitsa doesn’t know why she’s even so worked up. Mitya loves Odette, no matter how much Vodyanitsa tries to convince herself that it’s just a rumor. He watches her performance attentively and hums the songs she dances to. But with Vodyanitsa, he doesn’t bat an eye at her, even though he sits through her entire performance.
Vodyanitsa sighs and looks up at the cuckoo clock. Right on cue, the little bird pops out and calls seven times.
“Lady Odette, it’s time,” one of the staff members says.
Odette nods. She rises from the vanity, removing a thick coat that buries her white dress and tutu. Beneath the golden lights, Odette looks every bit like the elegant Swan Princess.
“Good luck on your performance,” Vodyanitsa says, smiling at her friend.
“Thank you,” Odette says, her lips curving upward. Vodyanitsa waves at Odette as she and the staff members leave the room. When the door clicks shut, Vodyanitsa lets out a long sigh. She pulls her knees close to her and imagines Mitya’s face among the audience, watching Odette dance.
“This sucks.”
Her hand reaches for her chest. The eager look on Mitya’s face looms in her mind. There is a knot that tightens her gut, so much so that she wishes she had never felt this way.
Vodyanitsa can hear the muffled music from the changing room. Odette must be performing already. If she weren’t performing tonight, she would sit among the audience and watch her friend’s performance. Perhaps sitting beside Mitya. But she can’t. Once Odette finishes, it will be her turn.
I should get to practicing. Vodyanitsa thinks.
She almost rises when the door swings open. A visitor wouldn’t surprise Vodyanitsa. Fans come to see her all the time. But the one who walks in is a familiar-looking young man with a weird scarf that waves at her with its four fingers.
“Mitya…” Vodyanitsa mumbles. Her eyes widen. “Mitya?!”
“Hi there,” he says, beaming. Stars and flowers brighten and bloom with that smile.
Of course, he is handsome, but why must she only notice now? She shakes her head and slaps her cheeks. What is she even thinking about right now?! Is he even allowed here during the performance?
“Mitya, what are you doing here?” Vodyanitsa hoists herself up.
“Well, visiting you, of course,” he says. He comes closer to her. Too close, making her back away a couple of steps. “I heard you were sick.”
“What about Odette?” Vodyanitsa asks. Isn’t he supposed to be Odette's biggest fan?
“Odette is performing right now,” Mitya says.
“No, I mean, why aren’t you watching the performance?”
“I see no need,” he says, “I finished my project and am on a week-long vacation. Granted by Sir Pierro himself.”
That’s not what I’m asking, she thinks, narrowing her eyes.
Now, they are only a few inches apart. She can’t look him in the eye. Instead, she looks down.
Mitya makes a confused noise with a click of his tongue. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” he says.
“…”
From the corner of her eye, she sees the scarf-hand pointing at Mitya’s head. It gives him a few gestural signals, and Mitya reads them like a book. He looks as if he’s having an epiphany when his cool palm lifts her bangs and feels her forehead. His other hand goes to his forehead.
“You don’t have a fever,” he mutters. Vodyanitsa feels her face grow hot at the inconvenient moment when he changes his mind. “Or maybe you do.”
Vodyanitsa pushes his arm away. Why is he even touching her?! She doesn’t hate it, but her racing heart might sell her out. And that is dangerous.
“I’m fine, Mitya!” Vodyanitsa says, almost stuttering. She clasps her hands against her chest. “I’m fine.”
“…”
Mitya straightens up. The smile on his face is gone, and his tone is serious. “That is very unconvincing. Did something happen?”
Right. Something happened. She’s forgetting why she’s mad at Mitya.
“Do you really want to know, Mitya?” The flustering emotions evaporate, and another emotion emerges from the boiling blood. Her unwavering stare is potent enough to catch him off-guard. He doesn't look like he has a clue!
“The candies,” she mutters, “you didn’t give me any.”
“Eh?”
“That’s so unfair, Mitya!”
Vodyanitsa knows she’s acting childishly, but she couldn’t restrain herself anymore. She flops back onto the settee, crosses her legs, and huffs, turning away from him.
“That…” Mitya grumbles, “I thought you didn’t like hard candies.”
“Odette told me you didn’t like hard candies, so I got you something else,” he continues to defend himself, as the scarf-hand makes gestures from behind. It’s funny to watch, even though she’s not angry with him anymore now that he’s come to see her.
Mitya scratches the back of his head and mutters something under his breath. No, he’s commanding the scarf to search for something in one of his pockets. It retrieves a small present box with a cute green bow. Vodyanitsa’s irritation falters, now that she feels bad that she must’ve given off the impression that she wanted something from him. In truth, she doesn’t expect him to give her anything at all, but she has to admit that she’s jealous he gave everyone presents as tokens of appreciation. Perhaps she can forgive him if he watches her performance tonight.
“This is for you,” Mitya says.
Mitya doesn’t sit next to her; instead, he kneels on one knee and offers her the present. It would be an exaggeration to keep complaining that her heart keeps thumping, but it is the truth. Every time she’s in his presence, her heart acts like an announcer that screams when Mitya is nearby.
“I wanted to give it to you in person,” Mitya says sheepishly, lifting a smile at her. “It’s nothing much, but I thought you’d like it.”
Vodyanitsa swallows all the concocted insults she would’ve previously spilled out. She reaches for the gift but hesitates, unsure whether she should open it in front of the giver. The scarf intrudes and gestures at her to open it.
“Are you sure?” she asks Mitya, and he nods with a quiet hum. The scarf gives a thumbs up.
And she does. She could not believe her eyes.
“My goodness…” Vodyanitsa takes in the beautiful pair of bracelets, adorned with jade gemstones and decorated with Jack Frost, snowball flowers, and glaciafruit charms. She has seen these displayed at a high-end jewelry store when she goes shopping with Odette, but the prices are astronomical. The gemstones are mined from Liyue’s famous Clearwater stones, and through trade, they don’t come cheap. And here, Mitya is giving her two.
“I didn’t want to leave such a gift in your drawer,” he says. “I would have left them there if they were just ordinary sweets.”
“Did you also give one to Odette?” Vodyanitsa can’t believe she’s even asking. Of course, she would be delighted if fans pampered her dear friend with presents, but it’s Mitya…just Mitya that she doesn’t want to share.
“No,” Mitya says. “I gave her some candy and a stuffed Jack Frost.”
Vodyanitsa cannot find words. She wants to jump at him and give him a big embrace, but that isn’t her around Mitya, ever. Instead, she bites her lower lip, restraining herself from letting her bottled affection for Mitya erupt. However, like a volcano overdue for an eruption, it would erupt nonetheless.
“I see,” she says. She gives him back the box, keeping her cool. Mitya stares at it.
“Can you help me put them on?” Vodyanitsa smiles merrily. Her usual self—or so she tells herself.
“Absolutely,” Mitya says, his voice soft with relief. He receives it, and she extends her right arm to him, and then her left. She watches him struggle to fasten the hook of the bracelet. Mitya always seems to smile, and she finds it hard to read him. What could he be feeling right now? Does he feel the same way toward her?
Well, there is one way to find out.
Both bracelets are on her wrists. They complement the colors of her hair and dress, and she swears she’ll never take them off. Mitya gets up and plops himself down next to her.
“Thank you, Mitya,” she says. “I’m happy that you didn’t forget about me.”
And she is genuinely. She has learned a lesson that only she knows about.
“By the way, do you still have that candy you gave everyone?” she asks. In the end, she really wants to try it.
“I do,” he says. He immediately searches his pockets. He pulls out a pink-wrapped candy, takes her hand, and puts it in her palm.
Vodyanitsa has mentioned this before. She’s not one for rock-solid sweets, but she wants to taste cotton candy and summer. She unwraps the candy and plops it into her mouth. Just what kind of feeling would cotton candy and summer leave behind?
“How is it?” Mitya asks.
“Hmm…” Vodyanitsa closes her eyes, trying to decipher the flavors. She turns her head to one side, thinking to herself.
“The flavor is warm and fuzzy,” she says. “Sweet as in the taste of…” Love.
The cuckoo clock strikes eight. Vodyanitsa pauses her contemplation.
“It’s time for me to go,” she says.
“I see,” Mitya says, his smile faltering slightly. “I guess I should head back out too.”
Now, what to do…
She hasn’t moved an inch from the seat. Neither has he. The little bird calls eight times. Each call weighs heavier and feels slower than the last. Vodyanitsa eyes Mitya. Before he gets up, she catches him by the sleeve of his cloak.
“One more thing,” She says softly, like a seductive siren from a fairy tale.
She straightens, one hand slithers to the back of his shirt collar. Her fingers brush the back of his neck before threading into his light-colored hair. She pulls him closer to her, and her lips gently meet his.
In this moment, her brain turns to mush. Her heart threatens to jump out of her, causing her lips to quiver from nervousness. She’s expecting all this to be fantasy—that he has no affection for her beyond that of a fan and would push her away at any moment.
But he doesn’t.
His hand lands on her back, pulling her closer, welcoming more of her with a deepened kiss. The softness electrifies her body as he circles her cheek with his thumb. It’s sweet. The candy is, and the flavor rolls across her tongue as she passes it back to him.
“Giving it back to you,” Vodyanitsa mutters, her face only centimeters away from Mitya’s. She slings both of her arms around his neck, her head resting on his shoulder. “I just wanted to taste the flavor.” Her first kiss tastes like cotton candy, and now she wonders if that was his first, too.
“I have more flavors, if you would like to taste-test them in the future,” Mitya says. It’s rather unfair that he’s not flustered as she is. Still, she’s gotten what she wanted. More than she thinks she deserves.
“I’d be happy to,” she says, giving him a peck on the cheek before letting him go. The taste of cotton candy lingers on her tongue as she strides out of the room, sweet as summer in this snowy nation.