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Inside the famous, busy Podvorye Restaurant, the well known Prima Donna sits alone, enjoying herself for a good time. She was originally supposed to spend the evening at the Zorya Restaurant instead, but she changed her mind.
She wasn't supposed to drink alcoholic beverages, until the people dining there convinced her to indulge a little before she had to return to being the professional singer everyone knew.
Ever since she gave in and started drinking, the restaurant has fallen into joyful chaos, alive with musical performances and a strange unity among the guests. Vodyanitsa loves it when people genuinely enjoy her singing.
"Lady Vodyanitsa!"
The call came from a table near the front, raised glasses and flushed cheeks all turned toward her. Someone was already on their feet, waving her up like the stage belonged to her and always had.
She laughed, low and easy, and let herself be pulled along by the noise of it. "Alright, alright," she said, holding up both hands like she needed to be talked into it, even though she was already moving. "You people are going to get me in trouble."
"Good!" someone shouted back, and she pointed at them like they'd won something.
She climbed onto the little stage, grabbed the mic stand, and instead of staying up where the spotlight sat, she dragged it right down the short steps and into the middle of the floor, cord trailing behind her.
"What, you think I sing better from far away?" she called out, planting the stand among the tables. "Come here, girls! Look at me properly."
That got a laugh, and a ring of people closed in around her, closer than any real stage would ever allow. Someone pressed a fresh glass into her hand before she'd even asked.
"Oh, now you're just trying to get me drunk," she said, eyeing it.
"Working," someone shot back.
"Fair." She drank it anyway, to a cheer, and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, grinning. "One song. Then another glass. Then maybe another song, we'll see how the night wants to go."
She opened with something old, something meant for grand halls and hushed audiences, and her voice came out just as clean and enormous as it ever did in front of a thousand strangers in silence, only now there was no silence at all. People were dancing before she'd finished the first verse, badly, happily, spinning each other between the tables while she sang.
She worked the crowd like she'd been doing it her whole life instead of just tonight, turning toward whoever shouted loudest, bending a note downward just to watch someone dip their partner on cue, laughing mid phrase when a plate clattered somewhere behind her.
"You're all terrible dancers," she announced happily, between verses, "I love it."
Someone handed her another glass. She didn't even pause the song, just took it, drank half in one go without missing a beat, and kept singing straight through the swallow like it cost her nothing at all.
By the last note she'd climbed half onto a chair someone had dragged over for her, one hand thrown out for balance, voice still ringing out clear and huge over the noise of the room. The applause that followed wasn't polite. It was loud and messy and real, chairs scraping back as more people stood to dance, and Vodyanitsa stood in the middle of it all, cheeks flushed, grinning like she'd just remembered exactly why she loved this.
"Encore?" she shouted, though nobody had needed to ask.
Vodyanitsa finally sank onto the long plush sofa, her thoughts spinning in circles that somehow made her dizzier. Her alcohol tolerance had dropped to zero, and if she kept standing up there entertaining everyone instead of sitting still, she was genuinely going to pass out.
"Haaah! I feel so dizzy. I can't believe I did all that when I was supposed to be resting."
She closed her eyes and tried to steady her nerves, or else she really would throw up. Vodyanitsa wasn't the type to drink, and she avoided it most of the time. But there was always some occasion that talked her into it anyway.
"I feel so full... My stomach's so bloated. I hate feeling this heavy. I can't even stand up properly right now."
Vodyanitsa tapped her foot against the floor, worrying creeping in as too many thoughts crowded in at once.
Then she thought of Odette. Her busy Odette, who somehow managed to forget her the moment she was off doing her Fatui duties outside of Snezhnaya. Her oblivious Odette, who had no idea how much Vodyanitsa liked her, so much that she wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her.
The thought alone was enough to make her irritated.
"Odette isn't here because she's busy again. Yes! Busy again with her other duties, without me! She doesn't even take care of herself properly, and all I want is for her to eat properly! For me!"
Vodyanitsa tapped her foot against the floor once more, fully aware she was starting to whine.
"I hope Odette is fine, wherever she is right now. I hope she's safe." Vodyanitsa tapped both feet against the floor and let her hand drop onto the sofa with a loud thud.
Then it hit her all over again that Odette wasn't beside her.
"Ugh! Oh my gosh! Why isn't she here right now? Why isn't she accompanying me like we're not even friends? Actually, I don't want us to just be friends! That's so old fashioned! A girl so pretty like her and a girl so likable like me should be together, you know?!"
Her voice climbed higher with every word, loud enough to turn heads at the nearby tables. People glanced over, curious and amused, but Vodyanitsa couldn't be bothered to care. Her eyes were shut tight, arms crossed like she was arguing with the universe itself.
"I mean, look at me! I sing, I entertain, I make everyone happy! And what does she do? She goes running off with the Fatui doing who knows what, probably not even eating on time, probably not even sleeping properly, and she doesn't even think about me once! Not even once!"
She flopped sideways against the arm of the sofa, dramatic and boneless, one hand pressed to her forehead.
"If she was here I would tell her, hey, Odette, look at me, I am literally right here, and I have been right here for I don't even know how long, and you keep going away, away, away, and one day I am going to go away too and see how she likes that!"
A waiter passing by slowed down, clearly debating whether to intervene. Vodyanitsa cracked one eye open just enough to glare in his general direction.
Vodyanitsa wasn't the type of girl to do this in front of everyone. As much as possible, she always crashed out alone, behind closed doors, where no one could see her fall apart. But the alcohol in her system wasn't letting her have that right now.
"I can't go home. Why can't I go home? Why do I feel so dizzy? Heavens, I'm so tired. I just want someone to sweep me up clean and carry me to my headquarters. Someone like, like—" Vodyanitsa paused, clapping a hand over her own mouth like she could physically stop the unnecessary talking in public. Then she dropped the hand anyway. "Someone like Odette!"
She groaned and pressed both palms against her eyes.
"And to be honest? I think it's understandable that I want her here right now, because she was obviously avoiding me! Like, who does that? We had practice together in the theater, the two of us, just us, me singing and her dancing, and then she just goes running off right after? Doesn't even say goodbye properly? Just, oh, sorry Vodya, duty calls, and poof, gone!"
She waved a hand through the air on the word poof, nearly knocking over a nearby glass that wasn't even hers.
"I sang her whole rehearsal piece so nicely too! Didn't crack once, didn't lose my breath once, held that long note at the end just the way she likes it so she can land her turn on time, and she wasn't even there to hear the last run because she left early! Who is she leaving for this time, huh? Some Fatui meeting? Some harbinger nonsense? I bet she didn't even eat lunch. I bet she's out there right now, running around, starving herself, not thinking about food, not thinking about rest, not thinking about me—"
Her voice cracked slightly on the last word, and she pressed her lips together like she'd surprised even herself.
"I just want her to think about me sometimes," she mumbled, quieter now, sinking further into the sofa cushions. "Is that so much to ask? I sing for entire restaurants full of strangers and they remember my name for a week. Odette forgets I exist the second she walks out a door."
She hiccuped, loudly, and immediately looked scandalized by her own body.
"Okay. Okay, that one wasn't very elegant. Nobody saw that. We're moving on."
A random woman started worrying about her, especially when the others nearby were whispering to each other, heads bent close together.
"She keeps on talking about Odette."
"Odette? You mean her theater co-worker? The young lady who does ballet?"
"Yeah! Apparently I heard her wanting Odette to think of her. If that's not romantic to you, then I don't know what is."
Vodyanitsa stopped talking when the woman appeared in front of her and tapped her gently on the shoulder to get her attention.
"Y-Yes?" Vodyanitsa stuttered, wiping at the tears that had started sliding down her cheeks without her even noticing.
The woman crouched down a little so they were closer to eye level, her expression soft. "Hey. Are you alright? You've had a lot to drink, and you looked like you were somewhere far away just now."
"I'm fine," Vodyanitsa said quickly, too quickly, and sniffled in a way that undercut the whole sentence. "I'm just, um. Tired. I'm very tired. That's all."
"You were crying."
"I wasn't crying, my eyes were just leaking from tiredness."
The woman didn't look remotely convinced, but she didn't push either. She just tilted her head, patient. "Is there anything I can do? Someone I could call for you?"
At that, Vodyanitsa's chin wobbled, and she pressed both hands over her face like she could hide behind them.
"I just want Odette to come carry me home," she said, muffled through her fingers, voice cracking halfway through. "That's all. I want her to come here, right now, and pick me up, and carry me all the way back to my headquarters, and tuck me in, and, and—"
She hiccuped on a sob, shoulders shaking, and gave up trying to hide it at all, dropping her hands into her lap.
"But she's not here. She's never here. She's always somewhere else, being busy, being important, and I'm just sitting on this stupid sofa, dizzy, and nobody's coming to carry me anywhere."
The tears came properly now, and she didn't bother wiping them this time, just let them fall while she stared miserably at nothing.
The woman glanced back at the small crowd that had gathered, exchanging looks with a couple of others who had clearly been listening the whole time.
"Alright," she said, standing up and dusting off her knees. "Someone should walk her home. She's not going to make it there on her own like this."
"I can do it," offered a man near the bar, already setting down his drink. "My place is close to the Snezhnograd dorms anyway."
"No, no." Vodyanitsa waved a hand weakly, still sniffling. "I don't want just anyone. I want—"
"Odette, we know," the woman said, not unkindly, patting her shoulder. "We heard you the first twenty times."
Someone else piped up from a nearby table, waving a hand to get attention. "Wait, doesn't my cousin work near the Fatui offices? He might know how to send a word."
"Send word how? You can't just walk up and knock on their door and ask for a harbinger's little dancer friend."
"She's not just anybody's little dancer friend, apparently," someone muttered, glancing pointedly at Vodyanitsa, who let out a wet, indignant noise into the sofa cushion.
"I heard that."
In the end it became a small operation, the kind that only ever happens when a room full of half drunk, soft hearted strangers decides collectively that a crying woman must be helped whether she likes the method or not. One man went off toward the door claiming he knew a guard who owed him a favor. The woman who'd first approached Vodyanitsa crouched back down and started fanning her face gently with a napkin. Someone else produced a glass of water from nowhere and pressed it into her hands, insisting she drink it slowly.
"You people are ridiculous," Vodyanitsa mumbled, though she took the water anyway, both hands wrapped around the glass like it was the only steady thing left in the room.
"You're the one who wouldn't stop crying about a ballerina," the woman pointed out gently.
"She's not just a ballerina."
"Sure. Sure, whatever you say."
It took almost half an hour, half an hour of Vodyanitsa hiccuping quietly into her water and insisting she was fine while very obviously not being fine, before the man who'd gone to find the guard came jogging back in, slightly out of breath and looking pleased with himself.
"Message got through," he announced to the small crowd like he'd just won a war. "Some officer at the gate says they'll pass it along. Said the name Odette and everyone at the desk apparently knew exactly who that meant."
"Of course they did," the woman muttered, glancing at Vodyanitsa. "Hear that? Help is coming."
Vodyanitsa lifted her head slowly from where it had drooped against the sofa arm, eyes red rimmed and hopeful in a way that made the whole table around her go a little soft.
"Oh my god! Really? Is it really true?"
"Really. So stop crying, drink your water, and let's get you steady before she walks through that door and sees you looking like this."
Vodyanitsa sniffled hard, sat up a little straighter, and immediately ruined the effect by hiccuping again.
"I don't look bad," she mumbled, wiping her face with her sleeve. "I look emotionally available and happy."
Someone at the next table laughed despite themselves, and even the woman beside her cracked a small smile, shaking her head as she kept fanning the napkin gently through the air.
There was a loud knock noise from outside the room. Lady Marionette's head snapped toward the door, and she looked like she would eat someone alive with the face she was showing right now. Lady Marionette had been in the middle of conducting a meeting, and she did not appreciate being interrupted.
Odette fixed her seating position, touched her right earring, and bit her lip softly.
Lady Marionette ignored the first knock and simply continued speaking about their scheduled duties as members of the organization.
"So what I'm saying—" Lady Marionette's words got cut off when there was a knock again. Three knocks this time. "Are you kidding me?!" Her tone wasn't simple irritation anymore, it had gone somewhere far more serious. "If this isn't something important, I am going to fire all of you, right HERE!"
She couldn't help but shout, and then she went straight for the large closed doors and threw them open, heels clicking against the floor hard enough to echo.
When the doors swung open, only one Fatui member stood on the other side.
"Is this a joke? Why are you here?"
The poor member's eyes darted past Lady Marionette, scanning the room until he found his target: Odette. He already knew, deep down, that he was about to be lectured within an inch of his life for this.
"Well?" Lady Marionette snapped, arms crossing. "Speak."
"I, um." He cleared his throat, straightening his posture like it might save him. "There's a message from the gate. For, ah. For Miss Odette."
The entire room seemed to go quiet at once, several members turning in their seats to look at her. Odette blinked, sitting up a little straighter, one hand still frozen near her earring.
"Me?"
"Yes. Apparently someone's been asking for you at Podvorye Restaurant. A singer. Says her name is Vodyanitsa."
Lady Marionette's expression shifted from murderous to something flatter, more dangerous in its stillness. She turned her head slowly toward Odette. "You're telling me," she said, voice dropping low, "that I stopped a meeting, threatened to fire an entire room of people, for a dinner invitation."
"She's not doing well, from what I heard," the messenger added quickly, sensing the room's temperature dropping further. "Crying, apparently. Wouldn't stop asking for her. Some people there wanted to walk her home themselves, but she refused anyone who wasn't, well. Miss Odette."
Odette was already standing before she seemed to realize she'd done it, chair scraping softly against the floor. "Is she alright?"
"She's had a lot to drink, from what the guard said. Nothing serious. Just, insistent."
Lady Marionette exhaled slowly through her nose, pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers like she was praying for patience she did not currently possess. "Unbelievable," she muttered. Then, louder, to the room at large, "This meeting is not over. We will resume in fifteen minutes." Her eyes cut to Odette. "You. Go. Before that woman causes a diplomatic incident in a restaurant."
Odette was already moving, murmuring a quick, "Thank you, Lady Marionette," as she slipped past the doorway, cheeks faintly pink despite herself.
Lady Marionette watched her go, then turned back to the room with a look that promised the remaining members were not, in fact, going to have an easier fifteen minutes because of the interruption.
Odette reached the restaurant in less than ten minutes, her ridiculous fast walking pace carrying her there before she'd even fully processed the message. Her feet had taken her to places most people wouldn't survive, so a short walk across the district was nothing.
"I wonder why Vodyanitsa is crying. What really happened to her? Did someone hurt her?"
The words came out under her breath, and just saying them out loud made something tighten, sharp and irritated, in her chest. Vodyanitsa was one of the kindest people she knew.
"It's so unusual for her to cry. Not that she isn't allowed to, but she's a strong girl. Not when it comes to medicine, where she gets so afraid, but strong in every other way that matters."
Odette's pace only quickened as she muttered to herself, earrings swaying with each hurried step, her mind already running through a dozen possibilities of what could have happened, none of them settling her nerves in the slightest.
Eyes already scanning the room the moment she stepped through the door of the restaurant.
Odette noticed a group of people circled around Vodyanitsa, waiting with her until someone came to carry her home.
"Vodyanitsa?" Odette walked toward them, weaving past the small crowd still gathered around the Prima Donna.
Vodyanitsa heard her voice immediately, and her ears turned red as her cheeks flushed a violent tomato red. "Odette?" Her eyes welled up with tears, and she shot to her feet to run to her. "Odette!"
The Prima Donna ran toward the Prima Ballerina and nearly tripped over her own feet. Odette's quick reflexes saved her from falling and scraping her knees, catching her and pulling her upright. "Odette!" Vodyanitsa cried upon seeing her there inside the restaurant, looking so pretty, looking like someone she'd missed terribly. "Vodya." Odette murmured softly.
The people around them continued to watch like they were witnessing a live theatrical drama about two girls falling in love. "You're here." Vodyanitsa's hands drifted all the way up from her sides to Odette's face, cradling it with both palms. "Of course I'm here. What really happened, hmm? They said it was urgent." Odette's hands settled over Vodyanitsa's as they looked into each other's eyes.
"Do you think this is urgent to you?" Vodyanitsa giggled softly, still so drunk that she started crying all over again. "Well, I believed them when they told me it was about you." Odette's voice was so gentle it startled even her, nurturing in a way she rarely let herself be.
The fact was, she was a kind person by nature, but she wouldn't act this gently with just anyone.
"Odette! Why did it take you so long to get here? Don't you want to hang out with me?" Vodyanitsa pulled her closer, until their lips were almost touching. "Vodya, you know I can't." Odette responded so gently, touching the other woman's neck to check her temperature.
"But when are you going to say yes to me? It's always duties, work, and bye bye Vodyanitsa! How about asking me to go out, or asking me to come with you?"
Odette glanced at the people around them with her default ice cold eyes, and they slowly began to drift away, finding sudden interest elsewhere.
"How about we leave this restaurant first, so you can tell me what you want? Is that okay?"
Vodyanitsa nodded eagerly, arms winding around Odette’s neck like she had no intention of letting go anytime soon. “Mmm! But only if you agree to carry me. My legs forgot how to be legs.”
Odette smiled and nodded, and something in her expression made it clear she understood completely that she would take on the request without a shred of hesitation.
"Sure, Vodya. No worries." She adjusted her stance, rolling one shoulder back. "My arms can handle you just fine. Just don't—"
Her words got cut off when Vodyanitsa's mouth beat her to the punchline.
"Just don't move. Got it!" Vodyanitsa giggled, delighted with herself. "You always say that whenever I'm sick and you have to carry me. I know the script by now."
"Do you," Odette said, amusement flickering across her face despite everything. "Then let's see if you actually follow it this time."
"I always follow it."
"You never follow it."
"Hmmp!" Vodyanitsa tightened her hold around Odette's neck, grinning like she'd won an argument she hadn't actually won.
"Alright. Up we go." The Prima Ballerina lifted her clean off the floor and settled her securely against her chest, as easily as if she weighed nothing at all.
Before they left, Odette turned to the woman who had looked after Vodyanitsa while she was gone. She pressed a generous handful of mora into the woman's palm and squeezed her hand in quiet gratitude.
"Thank you for keeping her safe." Her voice softened, sincere in a way that left no room for doubt. "I'm not sorry for how loud she got tonight. She's always like this, and I don't think being noisy makes her a burden, or annoying, or anything close to it. So, truly. Thank you."
Odette carried her out of the restaurant, not minding the weight in her arms at all, walking like it was simply one more thing she'd set her mind to and would see through no matter what.
"Am I heavy?" Vodyanitsa asked, her eyes welling with tears again, breath thick with alcohol that made Odette faintly dizzy just being this close to her.
"You're really not heavy. I can carry you, okay? Don't worry about it. I wouldn't still be standing, let alone walking, if I couldn't commit to this."
"What if you're just forcing yourself, because I'm being pushy? Odette?" Vodyanitsa's voice went soft and small, eyes shining bright as fresh tears gathered and finally spilled over.
"I'm really not," Odette said, a touch fiercer than she meant to, enough that it startled Vodyanitsa straight into tears all over again.
"Odette!"
"Oh— no, hey." Odette's expression cracked instantly, all that firmness melting into something closer to panic. "I didn't mean it like that. Vodya, look at me, I promise I didn't mean it like that."
"You sounded mad." Vodyanitsa sniffled, burying her face against Odette's shoulder like she could hide from the whole conversation.
"I'm not mad. I could never be mad at you for this." Odette adjusted her hold, pressing a brief, apologetic kiss to the top of her head without even seeming to think about it. "I just meant it seriously. You're not heavy, and you're not pushy, and I'm not forcing myself to do anything I don't want to do. I want to carry you home. Every time. I always will."
Vodyanitsa peeked up at her, eyes still glassy, lip wobbling. "Promise?"
"Promise."
"Say it again."
"I promise, Vodya." Odette's voice dropped even softer, warm and certain in a way she rarely let show. "Now stop crying, or I'm going to start thinking I really did upset you, and then I'll have to carry you and feel guilty at the same time, and that sounds exhausting."
That, finally, pulled a wet, hiccuping laugh out of Vodyanitsa, who pressed her smile into Odette's shoulder and said nothing more, just held on.
Odette is so gentle while carrying her, as if she's cradling her the way morning dew rests on a leaf, careful not to disturb it. In return, Vodyanitsa feels utterly cared for, safe in a way she rarely lets herself feel in front of anyone else.
The walk goes smoothly, but something is clearly turning over in Vodyanitsa's mind.
She tightens her hold around Odette's neck and presses her lips to her soft cheek. Then again. And again, unable to stop herself.
"Vodya, what are you doing?"
"Kissing you. Is that illegal?" Vodyanitsa replies, her voice impossibly soft, her breath thick with wine. "You know what?" she continues.
"What is it this time?"
"I think a lady like you, with a passion for work dangerous enough to get her killed, deserves to be taken care of. And kissed. Lots. By a certain Prima Donna who happens to be devastatingly in love with her."
Odette nearly missed a step. "Vodya."
"What? It's true." Vodyanitsa nuzzled into her jaw, pressing another kiss there, slower this time. "You carry me like I'm something precious. Nobody carries me like that. Do you know how unfair that is? Walking around being strong and gorgeous and gentle all at once, expecting me not to fall completely for you?"
"You're drunk."
"I'm drunk and correct. Two things can be true." She sighed dreamily against Odette's collarbone. "Your eyes are so pretty up close. Has anyone ever told you that? I should tell you more often. Every day. I'll make it a whole performance, an aria just for your eyes."
"That sounds excessive."
"Everything about how I feel about you is excessive, Odette, keep up." Vodyanitsa grinned, lips brushing her ear as she spoke. "I sing for thousands of people and none of them make my chest feel like this. Just you. Just standing there, being annoyingly wonderful, ruining me completely."
Odette's steps slowed, just slightly, her composure clearly fraying at the edges despite her best efforts. "You're going to regret saying all this in the morning."
"I won't." Vodyanitsa pressed one more kiss to her cheek, softer, lingering. "I've wanted to say it for ages. The wine just finally shut up the part of me that was too scared to."
That admission landed heavier than all the kisses combined, and for a moment Odette said nothing at all, just held her a little tighter and kept walking, the tips of her ears burning red in the dark.
Odette's steps faltered again, more obviously this time, and she glanced down at the woman in her arms like she might have misheard. "So you're in love with me?"
"Mm-hm. Your reaction is late." Vodyanitsa nodded against her shoulder, entirely unbothered by how big a thing she'd just said.
"You're drunk, Vodya."
"So?"
"So you don't mean it like that. You mean it like, I love my friend, I love spending time with my friend. That kind of love." Odette's voice was careful, gentle, the voice she used when she was trying to let someone down without letting them fall.
"No." Vodyanitsa shook her head slowly, insistent even through the haze. "No, I mean the other kind. The kind where I think about you when you're not there. The kind where I get sad, actually sad, not pretend sad, when you have to go."
Odette said nothing for a moment, just kept walking, her jaw tight.
"You're always leaving," Vodyanitsa continued, quieter now, some of the playfulness draining out of her voice and leaving something rawer underneath. "You leave for the Fatui, and I don't see you for days, sometimes weeks, and I just. Sing. And smile. And pretend I'm fine, because that's my job, being fine in front of people. But I'm not fine. I miss you the whole time."
"Vodya..."
"And then you come back, and you're so close, right there, and it's like nothing happened, like there's no distance at all. But there is. There's so much distance, Odette. Even when you're standing right in front of me, there's distance." Her voice cracked slightly. "I don't know how to close it. I don't think you want me to close it."
Odette's arms tightened around her, almost reflexively. "That's not true."
"Then why does it always feel like you're already halfway out the door? Even now. Even like this." Vodyanitsa pressed her face into Odette's neck, hiding. "I say all this and part of me thinks tomorrow you'll just smile and say I was drunk and confused and we'll go back to normal. And I don't want normal. I'm so tired of normal."
Odette walked in silence for a few more steps, throat working like she was trying to find words that wouldn't come easily.
"You won't remember this tomorrow," she finally said, but it came out softer than before, less like an excuse and more like something she was afraid of.
"I told you already. I'll remember." Vodyanitsa's voice had gone small, sleepy, worn out from crying and singing and everything the night had asked of her. "I remember everything about you. That's the problem."
Odette didn’t answer that one either.
Vodyanitsa's voice cracked as fresh tears spilled over. "I miss you so much, Odette. All the time. Even when you're right here I already miss you, because I know you're going to leave again, and I hate it. I hate how much I miss you."
"Vodya—"
"Do you not want me around?" The question came out small and frightened, muffled against Odette's neck. "Is that it? Am I too much? I know I'm loud, and I cry too easily, and I say too many things I shouldn't say, but I thought— I thought you liked having me around. I thought I mattered to you the way you matter to me."
"You do matter to me." Odette's voice wavered, just slightly, the crack in her composure showing through despite everything. "Vodya, of course I want you around. You have no idea how much."
"Then why do you always leave so fast? Why does it feel like you're always counting the minutes until you have to go?" Vodyanitsa lifted her head just enough to look at her, eyes red and swollen, utterly unguarded in a way she never allowed herself to be sober. "I wait for you. Every single time, I wait, and I tell myself this time will be different, and it never is."
"It's not because I want to leave." Odette's steps slowed to a stop entirely now, standing there in the quiet street with Vodyanitsa still cradled against her chest. "It's never because I want to leave you."
"Then why?"
Odette opened her mouth, then closed it again, something helpless flickering across her face.
"See?" Vodyanitsa let out a broken little laugh, more sad than amused. "You don't even have an answer. Because there isn't a good one. Because it's just what you choose, over and over, and I'm always the one left waiting, missing you, wondering if I'm ever going to be enough of a reason to stay."
"You are," Odette said, quiet but fierce, like the words had been sitting in her chest for a long time and finally broke free. "You're the biggest reason I ever want to stay."
Vodyanitsa blinked up at her, tears still falling, breath catching. "Then stay please."
Odette held her gaze for a long moment, something torn and aching behind her eyes, before she finally looked away, down the street toward the headquarters still waiting for them.
"Let's get you home first," she murmured. "We'll talk about this. I promise, Vodya.”
Odette finally reached Vodyanitsa's dorm room and unlocked the door. She carried her inside and set her down gently on the soft cushions of the couch.
"Vodya, I'm going to head out now. Lady Marionette might get upset with me for not taking the meeting seriously." Her hands lingered, carefully cradling her dear friend's face.
"If that's what you want, then go. You're always leaving me. What can I do about it? Nothing. I know that much by now. Just go." Vodyanitsa's voice cracked as fresh tears spilled down her cheeks. She reached for the pillow beside the couch and pulled it into her arms instead, hugging it like it might replace what she actually wanted.
"But Vodya, that's Lady Marionette we're talking about. You know how strict she is about her work."
"Yeah, I know. So what?" Vodyanitsa sniffled, tightening her hold on the pillow. "But I do think Lady Marionette would understand my situation, if it came down to it. Not you, though. Why would she even let you slip away from that meeting in the first place, if she really needed you there so badly?"
There was an edge to her voice now, irritation tangled up with the hurt, tears still falling steadily as she spoke.
"Vodya, please."
"No, I'm serious." She wiped at her face with the back of her hand, stubborn even through the crying. "You're always so quick to run back to your duties. Always. And I'm always the one sitting here, waiting, wondering when you'll actually choose to stay instead of leave. So go ahead. Go to your meeting. I'll be fine.”
She buried her face into the pillow, shoulders trembling, the words fine, fine, fine sounding less true with every repetition.
Vodyanitsa cried inside her dorm room while Odette left her there, all alone. She had just confessed her feelings for her dearest friend, and Odette had walked away like none of it mattered at all. If she'd known this was how it would go, maybe she never would have said a word.
"What do you mean I'm just drunk, and that's why you don't want to believe me? Why? Does being drunk make things less true?" Vodyanitsa sat up sharply, hugging her knees to her chest, tears still streaking down her face.
"Unbelievable. She actually chose that meeting over me." She let out a short, disbelieving laugh, more hurt than humor in it. "Who does that? Who rejects me like that? Not even my fans would turn down my company, and she just, what, walks off?"
She raised her voice on the last few words, loud enough that it made her head spin, and she pressed a hand to her temple, groaning.
"Now I'm embarrassed. Oh my gods." She flopped sideways onto the couch cushions, dragging the pillow back into her arms. "I should have known better. I should have known this would end up one sided. Of course it would. It always does."
She sniffled into the pillow, voice muffled and miserable.
"Stupid wine. Stupid honesty. Stupid, stupid feelings I've been sitting on for years, and the one time I finally say something, she just, leaves. For a meeting. A meeting, Odette, really?"
Her tears slowed eventually, exhaustion creeping in where the anger had been, until all that was left was quiet, hiccuping breaths and the too big silence of an empty room.
"I miss her already," she whispered, so softly it barely counted as words at all. "Even now! I’m so needy.”
Odette came back to Vodyanitsa's dorm carrying a Rimecurrant ice cream and a small bouquet of flowers. She had returned to the meeting as promised, only to be lectured by Lady Marionette after all, though not for being late, and not because she was needed.
It was because she'd left Vodyanitsa alone.
"You know, Odette?" Lady Marionette had said, arms crossed, voice sharp enough to cut glass. "If I were in Vodyanitsa's position, I would be furious with you for leaving her like that. That girl likes you. Quite a lot, evidently. Not that I do this sort of thing with anyone, understand? So don't even ask. But you made a cruel mistake tonight. Poor girl."
The words had followed Odette the entire walk back, replaying themselves over and over until she'd found herself standing outside a flower stall she barely remembered stopping at, and then outside Vodyanitsa's door with her arms full of things that felt, now that she was here, embarrassingly inadequate.
She knocked softly, then let herself in when there was no answer, using the spare key Vodyanitsa had given her ages ago for exactly this kind of situation, though neither of them had ever quite said that out loud.
The room was dim, quiet except for the faint, uneven sound of breathing from the couch. Odette closed the door gently behind her and stood there for a moment, flowers and ice cream in hand, throat tight at the sight of her.
"Vodya," she said softly. "I came back."
Vodyanitsa stood there, looking like she'd just come back from the bathroom, and her eyes went wide the moment she spotted her. "Odette? You're back? I thought you were in the meeting?" Then her gaze dropped to Odette's hands, to what she was holding. "Is that... ice cream and flowers?"
Her voice brightened instantly, all the earlier heaviness melting out of it.
"Well, yeah." Odette shifted her weight, suddenly a little awkward. "But Lady Marionette scolded me the second I walked back in."
"But why?"
Odette looked down, tucking her hands behind her back, clearly wrestling with whether to actually say it out loud. Her cheeks had gone the faintest bit pink.
"I don't want to say."
"Odette."
"I really don't want to say."
"Odette." Vodyanitsa took a step closer, curiosity written all over her face now, tears from earlier all but forgotten. "You can't just show up with ice cream and flowers and refuse to explain yourself."
Odette let out a small breath, something between a sigh and a laugh, and finally closed the distance between them, holding the flowers and the ice cream out to her properly this time.
"Let's talk?" she said, voice soft, eyes finally lifting to meet Vodyanitsa's.
Vodyanitsa took the offering slowly, cradling the ice cream against her chest like it might vanish if she held it too loosely, eyes flicking between the flowers and Odette's face like she couldn't quite decide which one to be more stunned by.
"Okay," she said quietly, still a little breathless. "Yeah. Let's talk."
They both sat down on the sofa, though there was an obvious distance between them, a careful gap neither of them closed. Vodyanitsa started eating the ice cream Odette had brought her, mostly to give her hands something to do.
"Do you," Odette started, then stopped herself.
"Hmm? So we're starting now?" Vodyanitsa shifted to face her properly, ice cream momentarily forgotten in her lap.
"Do you actually like me?"
"Like you?" Vodyanitsa's spoon paused halfway to her mouth. "Odette, I didn't say anything about liking you, especially not romantically. You must've misheard."
The denial came out too fast, too practiced, betrayed by the way her ears had already gone red again.
"Right." Odette looked down at her own hands, mouth pulling into something small and pouty. "So you're really drunk, and it's not true that you don't find me interesting, romantically." A pause. "So I was right, then."
Something in her voice had gone quiet and small, the kind of quiet that came from someone bracing for rejection they'd half convinced themselves they deserved.
Vodyanitsa noticed it instantly, the way Odette's shoulders had curled inward, the way she wasn't looking up anymore, and she stopped eating altogether, spoon lowering slowly back into the melting cup.
"Odette."
No response, just Odette staring very hard at a spot on the floor like it had personally wronged her.
"Odette, look at me."
Odette finally looked at her with those eyes Vodyanitsa truly loved.
"I'm looking at you now, Vodyanitsa."
Vodyanitsa suddenly felt shy under the weight of that gaze and set her ice cream down on the table beside them, buying herself half a second she didn't actually need.
"You know what, you're so stupid! I don't just like you! I love you, I'm in love with you, you idiot! I've been trying to tell you this whole time, and all you can say is that I'm drunk!" She gripped Odette's shoulders, and the ballerina's mouth fell open in surprise.
"I have a crush on you! I've had a crush on you for so long! And you're so oblivious, you never notice, you never connect the dots, even when I'm being so obvious about it! I have never once been subtle, Odette!”
Her voice climbed higher with every sentence, frustration and feeling finally breaking loose all at once after being held back for far too long.
"Remember when I was sick? I tried so hard to conveniently faint right next to you so you'd have to take care of me! Which you did, obviously, but that's not the point! The point is I planned that! I planned on being sick near you, Odette, do you understand how pathetic that is?"
She was breathing hard by the end of it, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with a mix of tears and something fiercer underneath them, hands still clutching Odette's shoulders like she was afraid letting go might undo the confession entirely.
"And it wasn't just that one time!" Vodyanitsa pressed on, voice cracking but refusing to stop now that the floodgates were open. "Remember the theater gala, when I sang that ridiculous overlong solo nobody asked for? I picked that piece because you told me once you liked it, months before, just in passing, and you probably don't even remember saying it, but I remembered. I remembered and I rehearsed it for weeks just so you'd hear it and maybe, maybe, look at me the way you look at the stage when you're dancing."
Odette's breath caught, something shifting behind her eyes like a memory clicking into place.
"And the earrings." Vodyanitsa's hands trembled slightly against her shoulders. "The ones you're wearing right now. I picked those. I told the shop owner they were for a friend, and I stood there for an hour agonizing over which pair, because I wanted you to have something beautiful, something that was from me, even if you never knew it was supposed to mean anything."
Odette's fingers rose slowly to touch the earring in question, eyes wide.
"Those were from you?"
"Of course they were from me, who else would spend an hour like an absolute fool deciding on earrings!" Vodyanitsa let out a wet, broken laugh, tears spilling freely now, her whole face flushed a deep, humiliated red. "I've been doing this for years, Odette. Small things. Quiet things. Things I thought you'd eventually notice and put together, and you never did, and I let myself believe maybe that was fine, maybe loving you quietly from the side was enough."
She wiped roughly at her face with the back of her hand, sniffling hard, and when she spoke again, the frantic edge had drained out of her voice, replaced by something calmer, steadier, almost frighteningly sincere.
"But it's not enough. I don't want to love you quietly anymore. I want to tell you, plainly, with my whole chest, that I love you. Not as a friend, not as a fellow performer, not as whatever safe little box you've been trying to keep this in. I love you the way people write operas about. I would marry you tomorrow if you let me, I mean that, I could get down on one knee right now and mean every word of it."
Her hands slid down from Odette's shoulders, hesitant now, fear creeping back into her expression as the silence stretched.
"But you're not saying anything," she whispered, voice small again. "And I think that means I already know the answer."
Odette's heart softened, her eyes shimmering like crystals catching the light. She'd had a small crush on Vodyanitsa for a while now too, the kind of feeling that seemed to arrive out of nowhere and yet, when she traced it back, had clearly been building for a long, long time. Not random at all, just quiet, the way most true things were.
It wasn't that she didn't want to act on it. She'd simply told herself it was too early, that there was time, that some things were better left settled and safe rather than risked. But hearing this, hearing just how deep it ran for Vodyanitsa, how far back it stretched, how much thought and care had gone into things Odette never even noticed, it rearranged something inside her completely.
"I think you're wrong, Vodyanitsa." Her voice came out gentle, but certain. "I think you're wrong about the part where you said you already know my answer. No. You don't."
Vodyanitsa froze, breath catching, eyes still wet and searching her face like she didn't quite dare to hope.
Odette stood up from the couch.
"I think I've liked you for a while now. I just didn't want to let it take up too much space in my mind. There's only so much capacity, you know? I worried I wouldn't be able to handle it all at once if I let myself feel it fully. So I avoided it, until you confessed." Her hand pressed against the left side of her chest, feeling the beat of a heart that had always run cold and quiet, now stumbling over itself for the first time.
"I'm not exaggerating when I tell you I've never had a crush before you, Vodyanitsa." Her eyes had gone impossibly gentle, open in a way she rarely allowed. "And I'm sorry if I was too foolish, too slow to admit it. I'm sorry for calling it the alcohol talking, for not appreciating your confession the way it deserved. I'm sorry—"
She didn't get to finish.
Vodyanitsa rose from the couch and pulled her down by the neck, kissing her before another word could escape. Her hands stayed locked tight around Odette's neck, fingers curling into her hair with a kind of desperate, trembling need.
"Vodya—"
"Shut up, Odette."
Odette melted into it after that, kissing her back properly now, arms winding around her waist and pulling her closer. Vodyanitsa tugged her down further, off balance, until they toppled together onto the couch, and Odette settled over her, neither of them willing to break apart long enough to laugh about how they'd landed.
Vodyanitsa pulled her down by the neck and kissed her like she'd been waiting years to do it, because she had. The first press of their lips was clumsy, off center, both of them adjusting at the same time until it settled into something softer. She tasted like wine and Rimecurrant, sweet and sharp all at once, and Odette made a small sound against her mouth like the combination had caught her off guard.
Odette kissed her back slowly at first, careful, like she was still deciding whether this was really happening. But Vodyanitsa's fingers curled tighter into her hair, tugging just slightly, and that seemed to be the thing that undid her completely. Her hesitation gave way all at once, her hand sliding from Vodyanitsa's waist up along her spine, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them at all.
The kiss deepened, unhurried despite everything that had led them here, Odette's lips moving against hers with a kind of quiet certainty that Vodyanitsa felt all the way down to her toes. She tilted her head to chase it, a soft breath escaping her when Odette's mouth caught her bottom lip, gentle, deliberate, like she wanted to memorize the exact shape of this moment.
Vodyanitsa's other hand fisted in the front of Odette's coat, holding on like she needed the anchor, her heartbeat loud enough that she was sure Odette could feel it too, hammering right beneath where their chests pressed together. When they finally broke apart for air, it was only barely, foreheads staying together, breath mingling, neither of them quite ready to put real distance between them again.
"Odette," Vodyanitsa whispered, voice wrecked, eyes still closed.
"Mm." Odette's thumb traced along her jaw, tilting her chin back up.
"Kiss me again."
She didn't have to ask twice. Odette leaned back in, slower this time, savoring it, one hand cradling the back of Vodyanitsa's head as their lips met again, softer now, but no less certain, the two of them finally closing every bit of distance either of them had ever pretended not to notice.
Their relationship became official fast after that night. Vodyanitsa simply refused to let Odette slip away again, so she'd marched up to her the very next week and asked, quite seriously, if she could court her properly. Odette, in turn, had informed her just as seriously that she intended to court Vodyanitsa as well.
"I want to court you, Odette. I really want us to be official! I want to build a big fence around you, so nobody else can even think about taking you from me!"
"But I want to court you too. I can do that, you know."
"Odette! No!" Vodyanitsa's hands flew up dramatically. "That's not how this works! I confessed first! I cried in a restaurant first! I get courting rights!"
"There's no such rule."
"There is now. I just made it."
Odette tilted her head, the ghost of a smile tugging at her mouth. "That seems very convenient for you."
"It's extremely convenient for me, thank you for noticing." Vodyanitsa crossed her arms, chin lifted, entirely unbothered by how flimsy her own logic sounded even to herself. "Besides, you're always so busy. Duties, meetings, disappearing for days. If anyone's going to be doing the courting around here, it should be the one with a flexible performance schedule and an alarming amount of free time."
"So you admit you have too much free time."
"That's not the part you're supposed to focus on."
Odette huffed out a quiet laugh, stepping closer and reaching for her hand, lacing their fingers together like it was the easiest thing in the world now that neither of them had to hide it. "Fine. You court me. But I'm still bringing you flowers whenever I want."
"That's not courting, Odette, that's just being sweet."
"Can't it be both?"
Vodyanitsa opened her mouth to argue, then closed it again, cheeks warming as the fight went straight out of her. "...Fine. It can be both."
"Good." Odette pressed a light kiss to her knuckles, eyes soft. "Now, what exactly does building a fence around me involve? I'd like details before I agree to anything else."
"Oh, it's very elaborate. Mostly it just involves me glaring at anyone who looks at you for too long."
"That sounds exhausting."
"For them, yes. For me, it is deeply satisfying."
They started having snowball fights and building snowmen together outside, the cold barely registering against how warm everything else felt now. Vodyanitsa had become endlessly affectionate, giggling constantly whenever Odette was near, like she still couldn't quite believe she was allowed to.
Vodyanitsa lobbed a small handful of snow at Odette's face, and Odette coughed hard, caught completely off guard. Vodyanitsa's laughter died instantly, replaced by panic.
"Odette! I'm sorry! Are you alright?" She rushed forward, brushing the snow gently off her girlfriend's face with both hands, thoroughly convinced she'd committed some unforgivable crime.
Then, without warning, Odette scooped up a handful of snow of her own and pressed it straight into Vodyanitsa's face, laughing brightly the second she did it.
"Odette!"
"That's what's called payback, Vodya!" Odette was already running, quick and light on her feet even through the snow, glancing back over her shoulder with a rare, unguarded grin.
"Get back here!" Vodyanitsa took off after her, boots kicking up snow with every step, breathless with laughter she couldn't hold back. "You are so unbelievably sneaky, you know that?"
"I learned from the best!"
"I have taught you nothing, this is pure betrayal!"
Odette darted around the half finished snowman they'd abandoned, using it as a shield, peeking out from behind it with snow still dusted in her hair. "You started it!"
"I threw one tiny snowball! You coughed like you were dying!"
"I was committing to the bit."
"You were what—" Vodyanitsa nearly slipped trying to change direction, catching herself against the snowman's lopsided head, which promptly toppled sideways into the snow. Both of them stopped short, staring at their fallen creation.
"...You killed him," Odette said solemnly.
"I killed him defending my honor."
"He had a family, Vodya."
"He was made of snow four minutes ago!"
Odette lost the fight against her own laughter first, doubling over, and Vodyanitsa gave up the chase entirely just to close the distance and pull her into a hug instead, both of them still giggling, cheeks pink from cold and from something else entirely.
Every evening after their theater performances, they'd retreat to Odette's room and settle in front of the fireplace, the light catching gold and amber across both their faces. Their heads stayed close together, Vodyanitsa's resting against Odette's shoulder, hands finding each other without either of them needing to look.
"Mhmm... I love you, Odette."
Odette was quiet for a moment, watching the fire instead of answering right away, the way she always did when she wanted to get something exactly right before she said it.
"I think," she said slowly, "loving you isn't quite the right way to put it anymore. It's smaller than what this actually is."
Vodyanitsa lifted her head slightly, curious.
"You're the quiet after a performance ends and the applause finally fades, when I'm still catching my breath and my whole body remembers it's allowed to rest." Odette's thumb moved absently over Vodyanitsa's knuckles as she spoke, eyes still on the flames. "You're the reason I stopped being afraid of stillness. I used to think stillness meant nothing was happening. Now I know it's just you, sitting beside me, being enough all on your own."
"Odette..."
"You sing like you're handing your whole chest to a room full of strangers, and somehow you still have enough left over to hand the rest of it to me, every single night, like it costs you nothing at all." She finally turned her head, meeting Vodyanitsa's eyes, firelight flickering warm across her face. "I don't think I love you the way people love things they enjoy. I think you've become the shape of my peace. The thing I measure a good day against."
Vodyanitsa's breath caught, eyes glassy all over again, though this time there was nothing sad in it.
"So no," Odette murmured, leaning in until their foreheads touched, "I don't just love you. I think you've quietly become the place I come back to. Every time. No matter how far the day takes me."
Vodyanitsa didn't answer right away. She simply leaned in and closed the distance herself, kissing Odette slowly and unhurried, like there was nowhere else either of them needed to be. Odette's hand came up to cradle her jaw, thumb brushing along her cheekbone as she kissed her back with the same quiet certainty she'd spoken with only moments before.
When they finally parted, breathless, Odette pressed her forehead against Vodyanitsa's, eyes still closed.
"Stay with me tonight," she murmured. "Not that you were planning on leaving."
"I wasn't planning on leaving ever," Vodyanitsa whispered back, smiling against her mouth.
Odette laughed softly at that, low and warm, before she shifted, sliding one arm beneath Vodyanitsa's knees and lifting her clean off the floor the way she always did, easy and practiced by now. Vodyanitsa let out a small, delighted sound, arms winding around her neck immediately, pressing a kiss to her jaw as Odette carried her the short distance to the bed.
She laid her down gently against the pillows, following after her without any space between them, and kissed her again, softer this time, lingering. Vodyanitsa's fingers slid into her hair, holding her close, sighing quietly into the kiss like she'd been waiting all day just for this.
"I love you, Princess." Odette murmured against her lips, between kisses, like she just wanted to keep saying it now that she'd finally allowed herself to.
"Oh my baby honey. I love you more." Vodyanitsa cupped her face in both hands, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose, then another to her forehead, utterly unable to stop herself now that she'd started. "My sweet, sweet Odette. My favorite person in every single world there could ever possibly be."
Odette huffed a soft laugh and kissed her again, unhurried, tender, the fire still crackling low behind them and the whole rest of the night stretching out warm and quiet ahead.
Vodyanitsa received a letter from Lady Marionette the day after.
I am happy for you both, my favorite theater lovebirds. Two hearts performing together, as though one would stop beating without the other.
I only want to say that Odette holds such high standards for herself that she won't let herself slack, not even for a moment. Oh, that girl. I ran into her once and she actually apologized to me for being lazy. She wasn't lazy at all, I think she was overworked more than anything, you understand? She deserves to rest. She deserves to be kind to herself for once. I've grown quite fond of that young woman.
On behalf of her late parents, and on behalf of Rosalyne, I ask that you take care of her. And you're welcome to come see me anytime, so long as I'm not busy, if you ever have questions about your sweet little relationship.
Take care, Vodyanitsa. And please, love Odette just as much as she loves you.