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Vesna woke up cold.
That was the first thing she noticed.
The second was that her head hurt.
The third was that someone had apparently decided three blankets were necessary to keep one person alive.
She frowned without opening her eyes.
Too heavy.
She tried moving one leg and immediately regretted it.
Everything hurt.
Not enough to be alarming, probably. Just the dull ache of muscles that had been pushed too far and were now making their displeasure known.
Vesna knew the feeling.
She had simply never felt it everywhere at once.
"My head hurts."
Something scraped loudly against the floor.
"Vesna?"
Vesna winced.
"Don't say anything."
Her own voice sounded terrible.
Dry. Rough. Barely loud enough to qualify as hers.
She opened her eyes.
The room was dim, illuminated only by a small lamp beside the bed. It took a few seconds for everything to stop blurring together.
A chair.
A table.
Someone sitting beside her.
Danica.
Vesna blinked.
Oh.
She was still here.
For some reason, that was the thought that came first.
Not What happened?
Not Where am I?
Not even Why does everything hurt?
Just that.
Danica was still here.
"You stayed?"
The words escaped before Vesna could stop them.
Danica frowned.
"What?"
Idiot.
Vesna blinked again.
"I said your hair looks terrible."
"No, you didn't."
Of course she heard her.
Danica always heard the things Vesna would rather she didn't.
"Well, it does."
"Vesna."
"What?"
There was that look.
Vesna knew that look.
She had known Danica for long enough to recognize nearly every expression she made, including the one currently forming on her face.
Suspicion.
Wonderful.
Vesna looked away before Danica could find anything worth being suspicious about.
She focused instead on remembering what had happened.
Svetloledovka.
The train.
Walking.
Danica asking her too many questions.
Then nothing.
That was slightly concerning.
"Why does everything hurt?"
"You collapsed."
"I remember walking."
"And then you collapsed."
Vesna frowned.
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"What do you want me to say?"
Danica stared at her.
Vesna resisted the urge to smile.
That expression was familiar too.
Annoyance.
Much better.
"How long was I out?"
"A few hours."
"A few hours?"
"The doctor said you overworked yourself."
"That sounds dramatic."
"You were unconscious."
"I'm aware of what unconscious means, dearest."
"You weren't aware of anything."
"Generally how being unconscious works."
Danica closed her eyes.
Vesna almost laughed.
There.
Normal.
This was normal.
Danica being irritating.
Vesna being more irritating in response.
Neither of them talked about anything that actually mattered.
Much better.
Vesna shifted beneath the blankets.
Pain immediately shot through her shoulders.
She grimaced.
"Don't move."
"I was adjusting."
"Then stop adjusting."
"You're incredibly bossy for someone sitting in my room uninvited."
"You were unconscious."
"Still rude."
Danica looked like she wanted to argue.
Vesna waited for it.
Instead, Danica asked, "Why wouldn't I stay?"
Vesna froze.
Ah.
So they were going back to that.
She should have kept her mouth shut when she woke up.
Unfortunately, keeping her mouth shut had never been one of her talents.
It had been three years since Danica came back.
Three years of working together, going on missions together, and somehow falling back into a rhythm that felt almost too familiar.
Vesna didn't even know when it had happened.
At some point, she had stopped noticing how easily Danica fit into her life again.
This shouldn't have been an issue.
They had been doing this for almost three years.
They were fine.
It should be fine.
"I don't know."
It was an honest answer.
She hated that.
"Look at me."
"No."
"Ves."
"I'm tired."
"You've been asleep for hours."
"And somehow I'm still tired. Almost like I exhausted myself."
It’s not truly a lie, looks like this situation made her worse
"You were making fun of the doctor for saying that thirty seconds ago."
"I contain multitudes."
"Vesna."
Vesna stared at the window.
Snow drifted beyond the glass.
She wondered how difficult it would be to climb out of it in her current condition.
Very, probably.
Unfortunate.
"What do you want me to say, Danica?"
Danica.
Not Dani.
Not Dearest Danica, as Vesna so often called her.
Just Danica, spoken in a tone that felt strangely unfamiliar.
It shouldn't have sounded any different.
Somehow, it did.
Neither of them seemed to know what to do with that.
The room went quiet.
Vesna hated that too.
Silence had a way of leaving too much space for things she preferred not to think about.
"I want you to tell me why you were surprised."
"I wasn't."
"You were."
"Fine."
Vesna looked at her.
"I was surprised."
"Why?"
"Because I didn't expect you to sit there for hours watching me sleep like some kind of creep."
"You collapsed in my arms."
"And?"
Danica frowned.
"And I wasn't going to leave you."
Something inside Vesna went very still.
She smiled.
"Well, you could've. I'm not exactly going anywhere."
Danica didn't smile.
Of course she didn't.
Danica had always been annoyingly good at refusing to let things go once she decided they mattered.
Vesna wished she wouldn't decide this mattered.
"Is this because I left?"
There it was.
Vesna stared at her.
"Dani, that was eleven years ago."
"You know what I mean."
Unfortunately, she did.
Eight years apart. Three years since Danica had returned.
Three years of missions, arguments, shared meals, and Vesna showing up at Danica's door whenever she pleased.
Three years of being so comfortable around each other again that people had started making assumptions neither of them bothered to correct.
They were fine.
Vesna was fine.
"I'm still not angry at you."
"I didn't say you were."
"Then what are you saying?"
Danica was quiet for a moment.
"You were surprised I stayed."
Vesna looked away.
That was different.
"You keep saying that."
"Because you keep avoiding it."
"I'm not avoiding anything."
"Then answer me."
"I don't know." There was a moment of silence before she said it.
Another honest answer.
Wonderful.
Vesna pushed herself upright.
Bad idea.
The room shifted slightly around her, but she ignored it.
Danica's hand immediately moved toward her.
Vesna moved away.
Instinct.
Nothing more.
At least, that was what she told herself.
Danica stopped.
Vesna saw her hand hanging uselessly between them.
Something unpleasant twisted in her stomach.
She looked away.
"I'm fine."
"I'm not asking if you're fine."
"Good."
"I'm asking why you didn't expect me to be here."
Vesna almost laughed.
What a stupid question.
Of course she hadn't expected it.
That was the point.
It wasn't that she thought Danica would leave.
She simply hadn't expected her to stay.
There was a difference.
A very important difference.
"That's ridiculous."
"Then answer me."
"I just did."
"No. You called it ridiculous."
"Because it is."
"Vesna."
Vesna's patience snapped.
"What?"
Loud.
Good.
Loud was easy.
Loud meant irritated.
Loud meant Danica would roll her eyes and Vesna would complain and eventually one of them would change the subject.
Loud was much easier than honest.
Except Danica didn't change the subject.
"You don't think I'll stay."
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
"That's not the same thing."
The words left Vesna before she could reconsider them.
Danica went quiet.
Vesna closed her eyes.
Wonderful.
"What does that mean?"
"Nothing."
"It doesn't sound like nothing."
"It means I didn't expect anything."
There.
That was safe enough.
Danica looked at her strangely.
Somehow that was worse.
"You used to."
Vesna's stomach dropped.
"What?"
"You used to expect things from me."
For one horrible moment, Vesna was sixteen again.
She hated it.
She hated remembering that girl.
Not because she had been miserable.
She hadn't been.
Sixteen year old Vesna had been just as loud, just as irritating, and probably even more insufferable than she was now.
And Danica had always been there.
They trained together. Ate together. Spent whatever free time they had together.
There had been moments too.
Moments Vesna hadn't known what to do back then.
A hand lingering after sparring.
Danica standing slightly too close.
Looks that lasted long enough for Vesna to notice and short enough for both of them to pretend she hadn't.
Nothing had ever happened.
Neither of them had said anything.
Then Danica left.
Vesna had spent the first week convinced there had been a mistake.
Danica wouldn't leave without telling her.
Not Danica.
Then one week became two.
Two became a month.
Vesna remembered asking about letters casually at first.
Anything for me?
Then less casually.
Then she stopped asking altogether.
It was embarrassing.
Not because anyone had laughed at her.
No one had.
That somehow made it worse.
Months later, she still looked up whenever new letters arrived.
Eventually, she learned not to.
Eventually, eight years passed.
And Vesna had become very good at not expecting anything.
Then Danica came back.
And somehow, over the last three years, they had fallen into each other's lives again.
Not exactly where they had left off.
They weren't sixteen anymore.
But close enough that sometimes Vesna forgot there had ever been eight years between them.
Close enough that other people apparently found it difficult to believe they were only friends.
Vesna had heard the comments.
She had seen the looks.
She usually laughed them off.
Danica usually ignored them.
Neither of them ever talked about it afterward.
That was probably for the best.
"You left once."
She hadn't meant to say it.
Vesna had already made peace with that.
At least, that was what she thought.
Danica went completely still.
Vesna immediately wanted to take it back.
Not because it wasn't true.
Because it sounded pathetic.
"I know."
Vesna laughed quietly. "No, you don't."
"Vesna."
"Don't."
She didn't want the explanation.
Not because she had never heard it.
She had.
They had talked about it after Danica returned.
Maybe not enough, but enough for Vesna to understand.
There had been reasons.
Important reasons. Complicated reasons. Reasons that made sense now that Vesna was old enough to understand them.
Vesna had been sixteen then.
Sixteen year old Vesna hadn't cared about reasons.
She had cared that Danica was gone.
But she wasn't sixteen anymore.
And she wasn't still angry.
"I don't need another apology."
Danica looked at her.
"I know."
That should have been the end of it.
Instead, neither of them said anything.
Funny.
It had been three years since Danica came back, and somehow they were still capable of finding things they had never properly talked about.
Hell, they weren't even a couple.
Vesna didn't even know if they could be called best friends.
At least, that was what people thought they were.
Sometimes Vesna wasn't sure what they were either.
Whatever had existed between them when they were sixteen had never been given a name.
Then Danica had left.
Then she had come back.
And neither of them had been stupid enough to ask whether that unnamed thing had come back with her.
Vesna certainly wasn't going to start now.
"I got over it."
Danica looked at her.
"I know."
The answer caught Vesna slightly off guard.
No argument.
No guilt.
Just that.
Danica knew.
Of course she did.
Vesna had spent three years proving it.
She wasn't sitting around miserably thinking about the past.
She had things to do.
She trained.
She went on missions.
She is the commander of Druzhna.
She had fought in wars.
Multiple wars.
She had been through worse.
Most days, she could work beside Danica without thinking about those eight years at all.
They could go on missions together, argue over strategy, eat together afterward, and Vesna could handle it.
She was fine.
So why did she suddenly feel so vulnerable?
Maybe because she had woken up half conscious.
Maybe because Danica had been the first person she saw.
Maybe because, for once, Vesna hadn't been able to choose whether she needed someone.
And apparently the first stupid thought her brain produced was surprise that Danica had stayed.
Embarrassing.
Danica was still watching her.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You're staring."
"So were you."
"When?"
"On the train."
Vesna frowned.
"I was barely conscious on the train."
"I noticed."
Something about the way Danica said it made Vesna stop.
Danica looked tired.
Actually tired.
Vesna hadn't noticed before.
There was a faint crease on her cheek from where she must have fallen asleep against her hand, and her hair was slightly out of place.
She really had stayed.
The whole time.
"You really stayed the whole time?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Danica looked almost confused by the question.
"Because you were here."
Vesna looked at her.
"And because I wanted to be here when you woke up."
Oh.
That was horrible.
Vesna hated that answer.
She hated the warmth that immediately spread through her chest.
She hated how some small, humiliating part of her seemed to curl around those words and hold onto them.
She hated that sixteen year old Vesna would have given anything to hear something like that.
She hated even more that apparently twenty seven year old Vesna wasn't completely immune to it either.
"That's disgustingly sentimental."
"You asked."
"I regret it."
"Good."
"And your hair still looks terrible."
Danica sighed.
"You've been unconscious for hours and that's what you're worried about?"
"It's bothering me."
Better.
This was better.
Danica looked annoyed again.
Vesna could work with annoyed.
She settled back against the pillows.
Her body still felt heavy.
Apparently several hours of unconsciousness hadn't been enough.
Her eyes were already beginning to close again.
That should have been fine.
It was fine.
She was exhausted.
She needed sleep.
So why was she suddenly aware of every tiny sound Danica made beside her?
The shift of fabric.
The scrape of the chair.
Vesna opened her eyes.
Danica hadn't moved.
Not really.
She was simply adjusting how she sat.
Vesna looked away.
Ridiculous.
She closed her eyes again.
A few seconds passed.
Another small movement.
Her eyes opened.
Still there.
Oh Tsaritsa.
This was pathetic.
Vesna moved toward the other side of the bed.
Danica noticed immediately.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"You moved."
"I know how beds work."
Danica waited.
Vesna could feel her looking at her.
She hated that Danica could still do that.
Just wait.
As if she had all the time in the world for Vesna to eventually surrender.
"You've been sleeping in that chair," Vesna muttered.
"I wasn't sleeping."
"You have a crease on your face."
Danica touched her cheek.
Vesna almost laughed.
"Shut up."
Then, before she could think better of it, she said, "Come here."
Silence.
Vesna immediately regretted everything.
"What?"
Of course.
Of course Danica was going to make her say it again.
"You heard me."
"The doctor said you need rest."
"And you're apparently incapable of leaving, so I'm solving two problems at once."
Danica stared at her.
Vesna could feel heat creeping up her neck.
Absolutely not.
If Danica made this strange, she was taking the invitation back.
"Vesna."
"Oh for Tsaritsa's sake, Dani. If you're going to make this weird, forget it."
Danica stood immediately.
"Move."
"I already moved."
"More."
"You're demanding for someone being invited into my bed."
"You have wings. They take up half of it."
"That sounds like your problem."
Danica sat beside her.
The mattress dipped beneath her weight.
Warmth settled against Vesna's side.
Familiar.
Dangerously familiar.
Vesna immediately began complaining.
Danica was sitting beside her and accidentally touched one of her wings.
The pillow was wrong.
Danica was taking too much space.
Someone had tucked the blanket around her incorrectly.
The room was too cold.
The lamp was too bright.
Danica listened.
Adjusted the pillow.
Moved slightly.
Pulled the blanket higher.
Turned the lamp down.
She listened to every ridiculous complaint as if Vesna hadn't spent most of her life producing them.
Eventually, Vesna ran out.
Her eyes grew heavy again.
This time, when she closed them, she could feel Danica beside her.
Still there.
"Ves?"
"Hm?"
"Nothing."
Vesna almost smiled.
Sleep came slowly.
Just before it did, a thought slipped through the exhaustion.
Danica could still leave.
Tomorrow.
Next month.
Years from now.
People did that.
Vesna knew that better than most.
But that wasn't the same as believing Danica would.
Maybe that was what Vesna had never quite figured out.
Eight years had taught her how not to wait for someone.
Three years hadn't completely taught her how to expect them again.
Her hand moved anyway.
Almost without permission.
Her fingers found the fabric of Danica's sleeve.
Vesna froze.
Stupid.
She should let go.
Danica would notice.
Of course she would notice.
This was exactly the sort of thing that made other people look at them and assume things neither of them had ever said out loud.
Vesna waited for her to say something.
A question.
Anything.
Nothing came.
Danica didn't pull away.
Vesna kept her eyes closed.
Just for tonight, she told herself.
It didn't mean anything.
Which was probably the same lie they had been telling themselves since they were sixteen.
Her fingers tightened around Danica's sleeve anyway.
And this time, when Vesna fell asleep, she let herself expect Danica to still be there when she woke up.