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The morning light filters softly through the lakeside cottage windows, warming the wooden floorboards where Alyosha is already busy rolling out dough for breakfast. The kitchen is quiet, save for the rhythmic thumping of his wooden spoon and the distant, gentle lapping of the lake outside. He smiles to himself, enjoying the rare stillness before the rest of the nest wakes up.
A quiet splash from the open back deck signals that Vodyanista is awake. She emerges from the water, her iridescent skin catching the early sun as she drapes a oversized knitted sweater over her damp shoulders. She glides into the kitchen, pressing a cool, water-kissed cheek against Alyosha’s warm shoulder. He leans into the touch, humming softly as she reaches around him to steal a small pinch of berry filling from a nearby bowl.
"Restless?" Vodyanista murmurs, her voice carrying the soothing undertone of a calm river.
"Just wanted to surprise everyone," Alyosha says, turning his head to press a quick kiss to her temple. "Go sit. I'm almost done."
Before Vodyanista can retreat to the heavy wooden table, a muffled groan echoes from the hallway. Mitya stumbles into the room, hair wildly dishevelled, eyes barely open, and arms wrapped tightly around Odette, who is buried face-first in his chest. Mitya is practically dragging his feet, acting as a walking mattress for her.
"The sun is entirely too loud," Mitya mutters, though there is no real bite to his words. He navigates by muscle memory alone, steering himself and Odette straight toward the kitchen island.
Odette lets out a soft, bird-like chirp of agreement against his collarbone, her fingers curled tightly into his shirt. She doesn't want to detach from his warmth just yet, but the sweet scent of baking pastries catches her attention. She blinks open one bright eye, looking over at Alyosha with a sleepy, hopeful smile.
"Good morning, sleepyheads," Alyosha laughs, instantly stepping forward to wrap his flour-dusted arms around both of them. Mitya lets out a contented sigh, burying his face into Alyosha’s neck, while Odette shifts slightly to extend an arm out toward Vodyanista.
Vodyanista glides over, completing the circle. Her cool hands slide into Mitya’s messy hair, soothing his morning headache, while her front presses against Odette’s back, sandwiching the two middle boys in a massive, warm, and slightly messy four-way embrace.
"Breakfast is almost ready," Alyosha whispers into the quiet space between them all, feeling the steady heartbeat of his partners. "We have the whole day to do absolutely nothing."
Mitya tightens his grip on Alyosha and Odette. "Good. Because I am not letting any of you leave this house today."
The heavy scent of fresh berry pastries finally coaxes the group away from their standing embrace and onto the sun-warmed floor pillows by the low kitchen table. Mitya slumps down first, immediately pulling Odette onto his lap. She rests her chin on his shoulder, her fingers absently tracing the intricate, glittering patterns on Vodyanista’s webbed hands as the water spirit sits gracefully beside them.
Alyosha sets the steaming tray of pastries in the center of the table, his face flushed from the oven's heat. Before he can even sit down, Mitya reaches out, hooks a finger into the belt loop of Alyosha's trousers, and tugs him firmly down into the empty space next to him. Alyosha laughs, a bright, musical sound, and leans his weight fully against Mitya’s side.
"Eat first, clingy," Alyosha teases, though he is already picking up a pastry and holding it to Mitya’s lips.
Mitya takes a huge bite, leaning back with a hum of pure satisfaction. Odette steals a piece of the crust from Mitya's hand, popping it into her mouth with a soft laugh. She turns her bright eyes to Vodyanista, offering her a perfectly ripe blackberry from the garnish bowl. Vodyanista accepts it with a gentle smile, her cool fingers brushing against Odette’s warm skin, creating a pleasant contrast that makes Odette shiver happily.
As the morning progresses into afternoon, the kitchen routine melts into a lazy, collective nap in the living room. They drag the mattress from the spare bed right into the center of the room, piling it high with every knitted blanket and plush pillow they own.
Vodyanista lies in the center, her naturally cool body acting as a soothing anchor against the afternoon heat. Odette curls into her left side, tucking her head under Vodyanista's chin, listening to the steady, rhythmic sound of her water-like heartbeat. Mitya stretches out on the right, one heavy leg thrown over Vodyanista’s thighs, while his arm reaches across to tangle his fingers with Odette's.
Alyosha completes the nest. He drapes himself across Mitya’s chest, his head resting right over the older boy's heart. Mitya’s hand automatically begins to stroke Alyosha’s hair, his fingers gently untangling the soft strands in a slow, hypnotic rhythm.
The room is silent except for the sound of synchronized breathing and the gentle breeze rustling the curtains. No one speaks. There is no need to. The quiet understanding between the four of them fills the room completely, a perfect, fragile bubble of peace away from the rest of the world.