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jomiddlemarch · 3 years

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I too have been covered with thorns

After Aleksander ordered the Stag’s collar to be put around her neck, even after his explanations, the anguished look in his dark eyes, the alteration in his posture that told her he’d kneel before her, Alina declared she’d never forgive him. Never.

“Fine, make me—"

And then before he had taken two steps away from her, they heard the cries and shouts, the desperate keening of wind and flame just outside the tent. Ivan, his face streaked with blood, ran in, and told them in a few, rasping words.

Shu-Han and Fjerda had invaded.

The encampment was overrun.

They were at war.

“You and Fedyor must go to the Little Palace and secure it,” Aleksander said, his clipped tone one Alina had never heard before, the General under duress.

“And leave you here, moi soverenyyi?” Ivan said, clearly completely opposed to the order but unwilling to challenge his superior directly.

“There is no one else I would trust to save the younglings at the Little Palace. Botkin cannot defend it by himself and the Shu-Han will be merciless to him if he is captured,” Aleksander said.

“You don’t even know they’re in danger at the Little Palace,” Alina said. Ivan looked at her as if he’d very much like to rend her heart.

“If they have attacked us here, they will be waging war on every location the Grisha are known to congregate, to destroy us beyond regrouping or recovery, beyond any surrender,” Aleksander explained.

“The First Army would protect the Grisha at the Little Palace—”

“Perhaps,” Aleksander said. Ivan grimaced and Alina noticed there was a dark stain on the left sleeve of his kefta. Was he in pain or merely annoyed by her? “I cannot take the chance, risk all their lives, on the First Army perceiving this as an attack on Ravka and not solely the Grisha. There are First Army officers who would gladly join the Fjerdans in murdering any Grisha they found, however young.”

“Your mother, Dame Baghra,” Alina began, stopped when Aleksander laughed, a brief, harsh sound, that had something in it of respect and something more of an endlessly long despair.

“She’ll survive if that’s what she wants. I wish them joy of any attempt they make on her, they will tremble and wish for oblivion if she decides she will make them suffer,” he said. “She is the one person in all Ravka I needn’t worry about. Ivan, the ambassadors, who has them?”

“Nazyalensky. She rounded them up, put them under guard, and then called forth a storm. It rages worst where she has them,” Ivan said.

“They’re hostages?” Alina said. Aleksander opened his mouth to speak but Ivan interrupted.

“What part of a war don’t you understand, Starkov? They are high-ranking officials, they have to be kept safe from Fjerdan bloodlust and the Shu-Han ‘serenity clinics.’ The Grisha are the targets, not the aggressors. We wouldn’t even be this vulnerable if you had not run away—”

“Enough!” Aleksander exclaimed. “Go now, Vanya, get Fedyor and the fastest horses you can find—make haste for Os Alta. I will send word to you when I can.”

“Saints guide your hands, moi soverenyyi,” Ivan said, bowing. Alekander gave him a quick nod and clasped his shoulder for an instant, in what was clearly a Grisha ritual.

“I could go with Ivan, help to protect the younglings,” Alina offered, warming to the words as she spoke them. “I could blind anyone—”

“You cannot leave my side,” Aleksander said. “Not for a moment. Our best chance lies in our conjoint power and now, with the collar—”

“I see,” Alina said. She felt the weight of the Stag’s horns against her throat. This was what he’d wanted, to use her as a weapon, to wield her light as readily as his shadow.

“You can’t fall into their hands. The Fjerdans would only kill you. The Shu-Han would make you into such a devastation as cannot be imagined,” Ivan said, almost kindly. “I go now, General Kirigan. We shall not fail you.”

Ivan left and they stood there, the same tent where they’d just been arguing so fiercely, now silent, even the sounds of the raging combat dulled and distant.

“I could not fight for the rest of them if I didn’t have you with me, Alina,” Aleksander said, his eyes lowered.

“You need me to defeat our enemies, I understand,” she said.

“You don’t,” he said. “I could not think of anything, anyone, if I could not be sure you were safe. I cannot lose you, even if you despise me.”

“I never said—”

“Later. You and I, we must make sure now that there will be a later,” he said. “Now, there is only this war.”

Outside the tent, it was chaos.

Alina had not known how loud a battle of Grisha and otkazat’sya would be. Could be. It was not only screaming, not only the Fjerdans’ ululating battle-cry and the percussive shouts of Shu-Han soldiers, but the tumult of the air, wind raised by Squallers, Inferni casting great gouts of flame that roared through the wooden houses of the town, the shriek of metal as Corporaliki made whatever they came across into knives and bullets. Alina’s ears rang with the noise and she knew she could easily have been caught up, cast adrift, unequal to the brutal forces of the fight.

Aleksander kept her close. As much as he could, he kept her hand in his, not only to access her amplified power but to make sure she was in the least possible danger. After only a few seconds, she understood how being at his side made her the best protected Grisha in Ravka, his fury honed by centuries of experience, in perfect proportion to the threat they faced. He was keenly focused, creating order among every group of Grisha they came across, forming squadrons and strategy with a breath-taking swiftness and surety.

The losses were great that first night, but with the dawn, he had secured a perimeter, the combined army of Fjerda and Shu-Han driven off into a valley to the east; they were a poison contained but not purged.

At daybreak, Alina touched his hand, turning her palm to clasp his, and spoke.

“General Kirigan, what will we do next, moi soverenyyi?”

“Are you sure it can’t wait, David?” Alina asked, just above a whisper. Aleksander slept uneasily if at all and had only dozed off at his camp-desk a half-hour earlier. He looked terribly uncomfortable but she wouldn’t risk waking him to get him to lie down on the rude pallet she’d cobbled together for them when she’d naively thought he would sleep beside her.

“He told me to come as soon as I’d resolved the issue with the device,” David said. “He said every second counted and it could change the arc and duration of the war.”

“It works then? The device you created,” Alina said. David had come to Aleksander in the third week of the invasion, when incursions were increasing and they’d gotten word that Ryevost was under siege, and announced he had an invention which could amplify and disperse Grisha power at a scale heretofore unknown. He had actually said heretofore, which had made Alina smile, a little grimly, but the expression on Aleksander’s face had been one that she felt like a hand at her throat. He hoped.

“It seems to,” David said.

“Seems or does? He’ll ask you the same thing and he’s barely slept since the invasion,” Alina said. She had no name for how she felt about Aleksander, but she no longer saw him as a power-hungry monster; the collar at her neck was still heavy but she didn’t wake in the night trying to claw it off. When he looked at it, she saw how he was torn over his decision. Without it, without his access to her light, they might already have been annihilated.

“It works,” David said.

“All right,” Alina said, walking over to Aleksander and laying a hand on his shoulder. Before she could shake him awake, David interrupted.

“Have you heard anything of Genya Safin? No one I know has any information about her.”

“No,” Alina said, wishing she had another answer. “But she was engaged in espionage before the invasion began. She had her own resources.”

“It’s not much to go on,” David said.

“No, it’s not. But your device may change all that,” Alina replied, squeezing Aleksander’s broad shoulder lightly, knowing how he’d look first for her face when he felt her.

“General Kirigan, Mr. Kostyk has something for you,” she said.

The war went on.

All Ravka went hungry, ports blockaded or the sites of battles, but the Fjerdans and Shu-Han were so indiscriminate in their attacks that the Ravkan otkazat’sya did not turn on their Grisha brethren. The Tsar was useless, but the Zlatan and the rest of the First Army generals did what they could to coordinate stratagems with Aleksander and created a division of runners to aid in communication among the Grisha in the Little Palace, Novokribirsk, Chernost and Ivets.

Aleksander called in favors and made promises. He walked among the Grisha, his Grisha as they slept and visited whatever shelters were created for the wounded; he said the prayers for the dead. He gave orders and Alina learned that if she did not understand them, she could ask and he would answer her. She learned that if she spoke, he would listen, and that she could get him to sleep by creating the most delicate veil of light within whatever room they were in. She learned he never wept, except in his sleep.

The collar around her neck began to withdraw beneath her skin. She began to run her fingers along her clavicle and felt the coldness of snow in the pale blue moonlight, becoming aware how that was another kind of light she could command.

The war went on.

He touched her hand but that was all.

“Prince Nikolai has assumed command at the Grand Palace. Os Alta is clear,” the runner, a First Army private with a scruff of beard a poor imitation of Aleksander’s, said. Aleksander nodded and the man retreated, dismissed, leaving them alone again.

“The blockade is broken, the supplies from Kerch have gotten through,” Alina reminded Aleksander. “The Shu-Han have withdrawn based on Nina Zenik’s intelligence. It’s just the remnant of the Fjerdan forces left and they’re walled off in the south, they won’t survive the summer. You could declare victory—”

“Not yet, Alina,” he said. It was rare that he used her name. Among others, he referred to her as the Adjutant, a rank he’d created for her, or Miss Starkov. To hear her given name on his lips had now become something fraught, the softness of the final a uttered with the tenderness of an endearment. “It will not be enough to drive them out. We must make sure they will not make another attempt, at least not while we are rebuilding. This was too near to devastation.”

“How long will that take?” she asked. She meant, how long can you bear it, seeing how drawn his face was, the chronic tension in his shoulders, the change the war had wrought in him. She reached out to urge some of her own vitality into him. She found she was dissatisfied by the touch, her true desire to take him in her arms, to feel him rest against her.

“Perhaps months,” he said. “Less than a year if we’re fortunate.”

“You need to let me help you more,” she said, returning to an argument they’d begun to have after her name-day, when he’d left a crown of irises for her to find and wear if she willed.

“You do enough. I won’t take more from you than I already have,” he said.

“It’s not taking if I offer it to you,” she snapped, startling him. “This isn’t about the Stag’s collar, not everything is. You’re not being fair to me if you think I can’t move past that.”

“It will always be between us,” he said.

“Yes, along with plenty of other things. You were wrong and I was ignorant. What you did was worse, but it has made a difference as you said it would.”

“For the war, yes. Not for us,” he said.

“You never cared then? It was all a manipulation, a seduction?” It seemed so distant, those days spent riding together, the timbre of his voice at the fountain, the night of the Winter Fête, how he’d embraced her as if the world had fallen away.

“If you can ask that question, then I’m right. We’ve not moved beyond that last moment before the war—”

“Answer me, Aleksander,” she said, taking a step closer to him.

“I cared. Or whatever you would call it when you discover your heart’s joy,” he said. “If I was seducing anyone, it was myself, persuading myself that I could feel as I did and do what I did.”

“And you don’t feel that way any longer?” she said.

“My feelings are mine to manage. Not to fetter you with,” he said. His dark eyes had never looked so tired.

“Honesty is not a burden,” she said. “It’s what we owe each other, no matter what we are to each other.”

“What I felt for you then was only the least of what I do now,” he said and turned his face away. She reached up to lay her hand against his bearded cheek, pressed lightly but enough to make him look at her.

“You won’t ask me if I feel the same, so I’ll tell you. I do,” she said. “I want you. Will you find out how much?”

“No,” he said, taking the hand at his cheek and kissing it, her knuckles and her palm and the pulse at her wrist. “Tell me, Alina. Please.”

#shadow and bone #darklina #darklinadaily #darklinafallfest2021 #day four #second chance at love #romance #angst #canon au #make me your villain #david kostyk #ivan x fedyor #genya safin #war #nina zenik

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 3 years

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Darklina Fall Fest Day 3

Football/Sports AU | Back-to-School | College AU

Summary: Russian teacher Aleksander Morozov is the bane of his students’ existences. Art teacher Alina Starkova is beloved by her classes. A scheme is launched to get the two together to make their students’ lives a lot easier.

Summer was bleak. Alina hated the heat, hated the mosquitos, hated the sunburns. But most of all, she hated waiting two months to see Aleksander Morozov.

A couple of weeks before school started, teachers went in to set up their classrooms and go over lesson plans with one another. But Alina never saw him during this time. Frankly, she couldn’t find a strong enough link from Studio Art to Russian. So, she usually didn’t see him until classes started up again.

New freshmen rolled in and it was inevitable. Everyone had a crush on the Russian teacher. Until they realized what a hard grader he was then the affection faded.

Alina’s class was always full with a waitlist. She was fun, light-hearted, and casual with her students. But she also inspired them to really become interested in art.

The two seemed like opposites, but had gotten along well in the five years they’d known each other. Aleksander was already working at the high school for a couple of years when Alina came in. He offered to help show her around and from then on, she was head over heels.

Being around teenagers all day made her a little susceptible to the corny, young adult romance cliches. But Alina really did value him as a person. He was tough on his kids, but in a way that encouraged their success. He was sweet, even if some students thought he was Satan incarnate for the amount of homework he assigned.

Alina’s heart fluttered when she saw him in the teacher’s lounge. Apparently, she’d struck gold this year and some of their breaks coincided.

He was taking notes on something on one of the couches. A mug of coffee was slowly cooling on the table in front of him.

“Zdraste.” Alina greeted in Russian before sitting down next to him.

He smiled. “Someone took up Duolingo this summer.”

“Well…I tried.” She tilted her head to the side with a wince. “I had a two-week streak and then I went on a weekend trip with my friends and forgot. Now the little owl will not leave me alone.”

He chuckled and took off his glasses. “Perhaps you’d do better with an actual teacher and not an incessant owl.”

“Perhaps.” She echoed with a smirk. “Do you know any good teachers?”

He just shook his head. “Apparently not. Last year, a senior on my teacher survey said that I was a ‘hard-ass who has never had fun once and needs to get laid’.”

Alina snorted. The comment sounded so funny from his proper accent. “Oh no, I’m so sorry. That’s just…wow they really get ballsy when they’re anonymous and know that they’re on their way out, huh?”

“It’s like they don’t remember that I’ve been staring at their handwriting all semester.”

“Is that what the glasses are for?” She pointed to the simple black frame glasses that he hadn’t had the year prior. “Trying to figure out who’s bullying you in your surveys?”

“Ha, no. No, these were a long time coming.” He admitted. “I just held off on them because I didn’t want my students to think I’m old. They think I’m cranky and tough on them but at least I still have some youth left.”

“We’ll always seem old to them.” She pointed out.

“We all can’t look forever twenty-five.”

She whacked his arm. “For your information, I’ll be thirty in two years. And you’re not that much older than me.”

“I’ve never told you how old I am.” His eyebrow quirked up.

“No, but you told me when you graduated college. I did the math. So, in five years we should do something special for your fortieth.” She gave him a mischievous look as she stood up.

“I’m not listening.” He watched her walk out of the lounge with a smile on his face. Yeah, it was good to be back.

~~~~~~~~~

“Alina, can you tell Mr. Morozov to get a life?” One of Alina’s seniors pulled a dramatic pout.

The art teacher couldn’t help but laugh softly. “He has a life. His life is the Russian language and he wants to make you all fluent.”

“Who even uses Russian outside of high school?” Another one piped up from behind an easel.

“You could find yourself stuck in a remote village in Russia and discover you’re the only person who speaks English.” Aleksander’s voice came from the doorway. They all jolted like he was a ghost. “And on your way to the embassy, you’ll be so thankful for all I’ve taught you.”

The students who had been bemoaning his class went pale as a sheet. The senior sank back into her chair with a sheepish look.

“Miss Starkova, could I see you for a minute?”

“Sure.” She wiped her hands on her apron and walked out into the hallway with him. “Aleksander, you’re the only one in this school who calls me that. Even my students call me Alina.”

“Yes.” He was raised with unbearably strict rules that you always respected your elders. Calling a teacher by her first name certainly wasn’t okay, according to his mother. But Alina could do what she pleased in her classroom. “I don’t mean to interrupt. I was just going to ask if you had gone to the National Ravkan Gallery recently?”

“You’re asking an art teacher if she’s been to an art museum recently?” She teased.

“Ah, yes.” His face reddened a little. “Well, I just wanted to recommend the Russian art exhibit that just started a few weeks ago. I thought you might like it.”

His interest in her interests was possibly the hottest thing about him since his face. “Okay, I’ll check it out.”

There was a faint smile playing on his lips. “That’s all I wanted to say. I won’t keep you from your class too long.”

“See you later, Aleksander.” Alina returned to her class. She thought she looked inconspicuous but her students were eyeing her.

One of her favorite students, Tanya, leaned forward with an intrigued look. “Alina…” She said in a sing-song voice. “What’s that smile about?”

“Hey, concentrate on your still-life, Miss Tanya.”

“Do you like Mr. Morozov? I didn’t think anyone liked him!” The senior girl was relentless. She knew that Alina rarely yelled or punished her students even when they pried into her life.

“Mr. Morozov is a very nice man. Just because he gives a lot of homework doesn’t mean he’s unlikable.”

Tanya gave her friend a look. She leaned over to whisper. “Maybe if they started dating Mr. Morozov wouldn’t be such a pain in the ass.”

“Tanya, gossiping has no place in art!” Alina called from her desk.

The girls giggled and went back to painting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

News spread like wildfire in the school. The theory was that if they could pair up the most serious teacher with the most fun, she would balance him out.

“It’s a yin-yang situation.” Penelope, the junior class president, lectured at her lunch table. “Once everything is in balance, our lives become a lot easier.”

“We can’t exactly force them together. They’re teachers, they would tell us to knock it off. Morozov would probably give us detention.” Her vice president, Samuel, added. “And I can’t have that on my record.”

“Then we need to subtly suggest it to them. Like subliminal messaging. They won’t even notice what we’re doing.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Usually, when Aleksander entered his classroom, all his students went hush. They learned early on that he didn’t tolerate messing around. Frankly, most kids were scared of him. He had a constant expression of “fuck around and find out” on his face.

But that day, he apparently had lost some of that energy.

“Mr. Morozov?”

“Yes, Penelope.” He got himself situated with his lesson plan and notes.

“Are you married?”

There were some teachers at the school who were okay with telling their students a bit about their personal lives. Alina basically put it all on display, she had no cares in the world. But Aleksander was the complete opposite. He even tried to make it so they didn’t know his first name until they got their report cards. Reasonably, a lack of a ring on his finger would be an answer enough. But Aleksander was the kind of teacher who, if he was married, wouldn’t wear a ring to class. He didn’t want his students asking about his relationship or potential wife.

“I’m not.” He responded curtly.

“So, you have a partner?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

“What’s your ideal date? Hypothetically speaking?”

He looked up at her. A perplexed look mixed with his disgruntlement that his students were prying. “My advice, Miss Cooper, would be to focus less on your teacher’s ideal partners and more on your studies. Besides, if you’re going to get away with the hypothetical excuse, you need to be more subtle about it.” He turned to the whiteboard and began his lesson.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, Alina, you agree that Mr. Morozov is the hottest teacher, right? I mean everyone in the school thinks that.”

“Geez, Samuel, he’s a little old for all of you.” She giggled and shook her head. “But really, that’s inappropriate. You shouldn’t call any of your teachers hot.”

“He’s around your age, right?”

“About, yes.”

The junior boy was staying after school with a couple others to help Alina set up for an art show in the school’s atrium. He was holding a box of tacks so the teacher could hang pieces up.

“I don’t know, I was just talking to a couple of girls who thought he needed a girlfriend.”

Alina laughed sometimes her students were just too funny. “Maybe, but that’s up to him to figure out. You can’t play matchmaker with your teacher.”

But that was the goal.

~~~~~~~~~

“The children are scheming.” Zoya, one of the history teachers, reported one day.

Alina was in the lounge pouring her third cup of coffee of the day. The rainy nature seemed to be making the teachers lethargic but the students were more wired. “They’re teenagers, Zo, I don’t think they appreciate being called children.”

“I’ll stop calling them children when they stop drawing dicks on the desks.” She replied. “But they are scheming, Alina, did you not hear me?”

“Scheming? I don’t know what you could possibly mean by that.” Alina poured in her creamer and could hardly wait for the coffee to cool down.

“I heard them whispering around setting up you and Morozov,” Zoya replied bluntly.

“Oh…yeah, they’ve been kind of weird about him, lately.” She admitted. “I hadn’t realized that’s what they were getting at.”

“Thoughts?” Zoya leaned against the counter, watching her friend’s reaction to the news.

“Well…”

“No way.” Zoya could read Alina’s face like a book. “No way! You like him.”

“Okay, now you’re the one who sounds like a child.”

“Please, Alina, it’s clear. You’re into him. I mean I thought so earlier but I didn’t want to embarrass you.”

“Well, thanks for sparing my feelings,” Alina mumbled into her coffee, practically burning her tongue in the process.

“I could see that happening.” Zoya shrugged. “I mean you’re the only one he remotely tolerates.”

“That’s not true.”

“Is it?” Zoya smirked and walked away, always leaving with the last word.

~~~~~~~~~

“Alina?”

She jerked out of her thoughts. “Hm? Oh, Aleksander, I’m sorry. I was spacing out a little.”

It was December and the campaign to get Alina and Mr. Morozov together was starting to become a bitter battle. Alina’s students were tasked with trying to hype up Mr. Morozov to her.

“Doesn’t Mr. Morozov look so good in black, Alina?”

“Alina, did you know Mr. Morozov knows four languages?”

“My older sister said that they found out he played football in university. Did you know that, Alina? Do you like football?”

Aleksander’s students didn’t need to hype up Alina. She was already an open book and outgoing enough. Their goal was to pry as much tiny little tidbits of his life as they could to feed to Alina. It was tough work and Aleksander was starting to become frustrated with what he perceived as a lack of respect.

“The next person who asks me a question about anything other than adverbs will go straight to the office.”

But they just tried again the next day. All they had was his word. The man had no social media and such a small footprint on the internet.

“Are you still copying?”

Alina realized she was standing right in front of the copier in the faculty lounge. She’d been standing there long enough that her papers weren’t warm anymore. But she’d been a little scatter-brained. With all of her students constantly bringing up Aleksander, and the rest of the teachers being less than inconspicuous, she was seriously considering making a move.

“Sorry.” She gathered her papers but paused. “Hang on, did you just call me Alina?”

“That’s your name.”

“Duh, but you never call me that.” She reminded him.

He shrugged and lifted the top of the copier. “Would you prefer Miss Starkova?”

“What gave you the change of heart?” She responded with her own question.

Aleksander didn’t want her to know that his students had been talking his ear off about her. “I think you’ve asked me enough times to call you that. It’s about time I fulfilled your wishes.”

Alina stepped back and watched him copy his paper. God, her students were right; the man looked damn good in black. “So, I was wondering if I could take you up on that offer for Russian lessons?”

“Sure.” He nodded. There was no reason to ask why. He didn’t need to know the reason. All he knew is he could finally have an opportunity to impress her. With all his students going on and on about her, he realized he ought to take a shot in the dark. For years, he thought so highly of Alina. But he was so worried she would turn him down and things would become weird working in the same school. But things seemed to be going in the right direction and he was going to take advantage of that. “Would you want to come over to my place this weekend?”

“Sure.” She smiled and glanced down at the papers in her hand. Truthfully, she was worried if she kept looking into his dark eyes she would burst into flames. “You have my number, so just text me when you want me to come over.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Aleksander hadn’t been on a date in a couple of years. He tried a few times when his prospects for being with Alina felt grim. He figured if he could find someone else, then he wouldn’t stay so hung up on her. But none of the women he ever went out with could hold a candle to her.

Now he was rusty when it came to dating. And it was just his luck that he’d break his dry spell with the woman of his dreams. At least she wasn’t a stranger to him. They knew each other well.

Still, Aleksander’s palms were sweating a little bit when he went to the front door to let her in.

“Hi.” She greeted warmly. The cold December night made her cheeks red.

“Hi.” He smiled and felt his nerves calm. This still was the woman with who he had many lovely, down to Earth conversations. “Please, come in.” He offered to take her coat.

She looked around his home and found it to be inviting. There were a few framed photographs in the entrance hallway. Most looked to be travel pictures. There was one toward the end of the hall, it was an older photograph of a couple standing in front of St. Basil’s Cathedral in the Red Square.

“My parents.” He explained.

“You look a lot like your father.” She remarked. “When did they come here from Russia?”

“They didn’t. They still live there. I came here for university and stayed.” He walked to the living room with her.

“Oh, I didn’t know you don’t have family here.” It made her a little guilty knowing he probably spent most of his holidays alone if he didn’t spend them with friends. If she’d known, she would’ve invited him over. She certainly would in the future, she was sure of that.

He didn’t comment. “Are you hungry?”

Alina caught a whiff of something savory from the kitchen. “I am now. That smells amazing.”

Aleksander went into the kitchen to check on the chicken dish in the oven.

She couldn’t believe what a warm and tidy place he kept. She didn’t expect him to be a slob, but she…well she wasn’t sure what she expected. “So, you just came up with the ruse about Russian lessons to get me to come over for dinner?” She teased.

He chuckled as he returned from the kitchen. “You approached me. I think you had your own ruse.”

“Oh?” She sat on the arm of the sofa.

“I don’t think you intended on really learning Russian.” He moved a little closer to her.

“You don’t know that.” She retorted. “I very well could have wanted to learn.”

“Really?”

She huffed out a sigh. “No. It was really hard, okay? Those two weeks of Duolingo were hell and it was only basic level stuff. I’m shit at learning languages.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, I was raised speaking it. It’s much harder to learn a language that’s not the dominant language of your country and when you’re an adult.” He pointed out comfortingly.

“I know, I just wanted to impress you.”

He smiled at her. “Well, for the record I’m trying to impress you with my cooking.”

“I’ll be impressed when I taste it.”

“After all these years I still underestimate your level of sass. I get less attitude from my students.”

She just smirked. “I think it’s because I know you can’t give me detention. And if you tried, I would just give you detention right back. We’re constantly at a stalemate that way.”

It was nice being able to have a conversation without being interrupted by the normal school day. Plus, they weren’t being watched by their coworkers and students. They could just be themselves. “So, you just like to push my buttons.”

“I like knowing that you like it.” She shrugged, not willing to apologize.

He just chuckled. “Charming, Miss Starkova, charming as always.” He walked over to the liquor cabinet.

“Oh, so we’re back to Miss Starkova?”

“It fluctuates, depending on my mood.” He crouched down to find a good white wine.

She chewed on her lip and decided this was the night she wanted to be honest. “Aleksander…I like you a lot.” She said softly.

He walked back over with the wine and two glasses. “I like you a lot too. You’re witty and cheerful.” He handed her a glass and popped the cork. “Before you started working at the school, sometimes I would have these days where I didn’t even want to get out of bed. Facing the day seemed so daunting. But since you started there, I’ve never had a day like that. Even the possibility of passing you in the hall was enough to motivate me.” He poured the wine in her glass and then his own.

She was radiant as she beamed at him. She tapped the rim of her glass against his and took a sip. “Remember when you got the flu last year?”

“How could I forget?” It was a miserable time; Aleksander had never felt so awful. He was out of commission for at least a week.

“That was the worst week of my professional career. I just wanted to leave my class and come take care of you.”

He was certain that if she had been there to take care of him, the recovery wouldn’t have been so terrible. “I would’ve gotten you sick, though.”

She just gave a one-shoulder shrug. “The things you do for…” She caught herself and found herself in an embarrassing panic. “Um…”

“For love?”

Her heart pounded in her chest. God, was he going to think she was a creep? It was their first date and she was talking about love. “I mean…”

“It’s alright.” He reassured her. And that was that. They knew how each other felt, but in a way there was no need to put a word to it yet. They would have plenty of time for labels in the future.

~~~~~~~~

“So, I didn’t know you spoke four languages.”

“I don’t recall telling you that.”

She smiled slightly between bites. “Some of our students have been…advertising you to me, so to speak. I don’t know if they were just making things up or if they were digging into your past.”

“You know what they ought to do?” Aleksander set down his fork to make his point. “They should just wipe the internet of all information every ten years or so.”

Alina giggled. “Why? People might find old pictures of you as captain of your football team?”

“Christ.” He sighed and cursed out his university for letting images like that linger. If he had the technological know-how and determination, he’d wipe out every existing picture of him from university. But since he failed at figuring out Twitter, he decided it wasn’t worth the energy.

“To be fair, they were the ones who printed the pictures out, not me.” She was enjoying the way he was squirming. It was a little unfair to work with someone so attractive and calm and collected. Seeing him get a little hot under the collar made the last five years all worth it. “I bet you still look good in those shorts.”

“Alina…”

“So, four languages? Was that true too?”

“Yes.” He allowed her to get away with the shorts remark, at least for the time being. “That’s true.”

“Okay, Russian and English. I’m going to guess you also know…Italian and Japanese.” She came up with the languages on random.

“I taught French when I was student-teaching and I picked up Polish from a neighbor. It’s close enough to Russian.”

“Why would you want to keep that from people?” She asked softly. “Aleksander, you’re such an interesting person. I don’t know why you close yourself off so much from everyone.”

Her big brown eyes and gentle nature disarmed him. Normally, he was so used to throwing up his barbed-wire fence any time someone tried to get close to him. It didn’t matter if it was a student, coworker, or stranger. The less people knew about him, the safer he felt. “I guess it just makes my life easier.”

“Don’t you ever feel the need to confide in someone?”

His eyes softened on her. “You’re probably the closest thing I’ve had to a confidante.”

“Well, I’ll take on that role with pride.” She beamed. “As long as you keep making me dinners because this was amazing.” She glanced down at her clean plate.

“Do you cook much?” Aleksander offered to pour her another glass of wine.

Alina accepted, holding the glass up for him. “I’ve tried learning so many times. My friend Genya, who was my roommate at Ravkan U, every so often she’ll drag me down to the community center for some Italian or Thai cooking class. She does pretty well but I do terribly. I guess she’s more free form with everything, I heard cooking is about feeling and less about accurately measuring things which I fall victim to.” She took a sip of the wine and realized he was watching her with a faintly amused smirk. “What?”

“You just told me like six things completely irrelevant to the question.”

“I felt they were relevant.” She asserted with a confident smile. “Try as you might, Morozov, you’re not going to tighten the lid on me.”

“Mhm, yet at the same time you’re trying to loosen my lid.”

Alina burst out laughing. “Okay, that analogy might not work, but I appreciate you humoring me.”

Aleksander felt so blessed to have heard her laugh so many times in one day. It felt like a rarity but he knew he would strive to make it a more frequent occurrence. “Can I ask why you’re so open with your students?”

She shrugged and swirled the wine around in her glass. “I feel like when I’m open, I can control what they know. You might think I’m a loose cannon but I’m strategic.” She winked at him. “The less I try to keep secret from them, the less likely they’ll go looking for unanswered questions. I can tell them I played field hockey in university; they probably won’t go looking for pictures of me playing. You practically put a sign on your back that reads ‘try to uncover who I really am’. Teenagers are bored constantly and they love a challenge.”

Aleksander hated that her logic checked out. He huffed. “I suppose. But I never had a problem until they got it in their heads that I should ask you out.”

“True. But did they bring you any pictures of me from university?”

“No.”

“Then whose strategy worked best?”

He just smiled and shook his head. “Yours.”

“I rest my case.” She stood up and cleared the table.

“I can do that.” He stood up quickly but she was much faster and brought most of the dishes to the sink. “Alina, honestly, I can clean up.”

“I know.” She stopped him before he could get to the sink. “But not right now.” She grabbed onto his collar and led him back into the living room. Aleksander followed eagerly.

After five years of pining after one another, it felt like they’d been together for a long time. Even if it was their first date, they had such a strong history. Soon enough, Alina found herself making out with Aleksander on the couch.

After all the times she imagined being with him, she never imagined he’d be so damn good. But he kissed her like he was being shipped out for war the next day. The pent-up passion and adoration spilled out.

As he was kissing her neck, she moaned softly, “Sasha…”

“Someone was looking up nicknames for Aleksander.” He accused playfully.

Alina’s mind was mush by that point. Her response was weak, “Someone was hiding how good of a kisser he was.”

If he looked smug, she couldn’t see as he kissed her shoulder and collarbone.

“Our students are going to have a field day when they find out.” She realized.

“They don’t have to know, malyshka.”

Alina had heard him speaking Russian sometimes when she passed by his classroom. It was hot to her then and he was saying phrases like “I want to go to the zoo” and “Is your mother a doctor”. But when he called her baby, she was putty in his hands.

��You trust me to keep a secret?” She toyed.

“I trust you entirely.” He murmured and brought his lips back to hers.

~~~~~~~~

“Good morning. Hope you all had an enjoyable summer.” Aleksander walked into the first class of the year. It was his senior class, the same kids he’d had for four years.

And instantly, some of them noticed something different about him.

“Mr. Morozov…did you get married?” A girl in the front row exclaimed loudly. Those who hadn’t been paying attention all zeroed in on his left hand. There was confused chattering.

“Yes, yes, alright.” He held up a hand to bring them down a couple of notches. “I did get married over the summer. There’s no need to make a big deal out of it.”

“But…who? Were you dating someone this whole time? Did you lie to us!?”

“Jamie, there’s no need to be dramatic.” He replied.

“How could you do this? Alina really likes you!”

“Well, I should hope so because she married me.”

There were many audible ‘what!?’s across the room.

Penelope, who had retained her seat as class president was struggling to find the words. “But-you-we didn’t even know you two were dating!”

“There’s a subtle art to lying to your students.” He responded. “Since you were all so keen to meddle, I should be allowed to choose what I want to tell you all.”

Suddenly, questions were being hurled at him. Far more questions than he’d ever been asked in one class.

“Where did you get married?”

“How long had you been dating before you got married?”

“Are you going to have kids?”

“Can we see pictures of the wedding?”

Aleksander spoke over them. “There is only one person who is willing to tell you anything about my marriage and it won’t be me. If you want to talk about my wife, very well. We’ll do so in a way that relates to actual schoolwork.”

They groaned.

“Abby, if you are going to refer to Alina by her last name, which you all should anyway because it’s a sign of respect, how would you address her?”

“Mrs. Morozova.” She answered. The girls around her all giggled with joy that their attempts had actually worked. And it had worked so well. No one expected to come into the new school year and find the two were already married. It already seemed to be working because he hadn’t threatened to send anyone to the office.

“Good, why?”

“Because Russian last names are gendered.”

“Excellent.” He began passing out papers. “This is an assessment.”

Another grumble echoed through the room.

“It’s not graded. I’m not that heartless. It’s just to see how much you all remember from last year. Which I expect to be a good deal. I’m not wasting time reteaching concepts you all should know by now.”

~~~~~~~~

Penelope stormed into the art room. “Alina, your husband is insane! He assigned us three chapters for this weekend!”

Other students in the room who hadn’t heard the news all gasped.

“Alina, you’re married to Mr. Morozov?”

She smiled sheepishly. “Yes, we got married in July.”

They all flocked to her desk like little ducks looking for bread crumbs.

“It’s not that insane!” Alina fielded their questions. “We started dating in December.”

“December? And you didn’t tell us?”

“You know him, he likes his privacy and he’s entitled to it. But yes, December.”

“So, you got married after eight months?” Samuel looked shocked.

“I know it’s sudden. But…we’d been friends for so long. It felt like we’d been together for years, honestly. We moved in together in May. When we went on vacation in July, we just decided to get married. But none of you go elope until you’re much older.” She warned. “I don’t want to get calls from your parents.”

“Can we see pictures?”

“It’s not much to see…”

“Please?” They begged.

“I promised him not to…”

“PLEASE?”

Alina knew that she wouldn’t be getting anything done that day unless she caved in. “Alright, but you did not see this.” She took out her phone and pulled up the picture.

Alina was in a white, strapless sundress. Aleksander wore jeans and a white button-down. They were married on the beach with just the official and witnesses. One of the witnesses took the photograph. Aleksander cradled her face in his hands as he kissed her so tenderly.

The girls squealed and swooned.

“So, he does have a heart.” Samuel joked.

“He does.” Alina laughed and put her phone away before they demanded to see more pictures. “Alright, let’s get some work done.”

~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, I want to thank you two.” Zoya strode into the lounge.

Alina and Aleksander were sitting on the couch together, Aleksander’s arm loosely wrapped around her shoulders.

“For what?” Alina looked over the back of the couch as Zoya went straight for the coffee.

“For two things. One, for inviting me to your wedding. Oh wait, never mind about that one.”

Aleksander looked amused. “Oh, don’t mention it.”

Alina elbowed her husband. “What’s the second one, Zo?”

“For distracting my kids!” She snapped. “All they can talk about is how you two got married. I couldn’t get two sentences in without them asking something else. How should I know if you two are going to have kids? Like do they think I break into your house and check your drawer for condoms?”

“Christ, Zoya, we get it.” Aleksander asserted.

“We didn’t think it would be such a big deal,” Alina admitted.

“They spent about ten minutes of my class trying to figure out what your dating name would be like you two are damn celebrities.” Zoya rolled her eyes. “Little bastards didn’t get very far because your names both start so similarly.”

“I don’t even want to know.” Aleksander decided and went back to his book.

“Just please tell me they’ve been pestering you as much as they have the rest of us.”

“Yes,” he said.

“They’re excited.” Alina admonished them both. “They’ve been advocating for this for a while.”

“So, how long is the victory party going to last?” Zoya sat down with her coffee.

“Much longer if my wife keeps sharing photos of our wedding.”

“Damn it!” Alina groaned. “I told them not to tell.”

“They’re teenagers, they can’t keep secrets.”

“Neither can my wife.”

Zoya pulled a face at his response. “Okay, Morozov, you call her your wife one more time and I’m making you buy lunch for us.”

Aleksander shut his book and looked up at the history teacher. “My wife would be upset if I dropped that much money on food.” He said deadpan.

“That’s it. Lunch is on you tomorrow.” Zoya decided.

“Buy your own lunch.” He stood up and kissed Alina’s hair.

“You need to do something about your husband.”

Alina just smiled. She didn’t want to take sides. But damn it if she didn’t love Aleksander calling her that over and over again. “Where do you want to get lunch from?”

Zoya smiled. “That’s my girl.”

~~~~~~~~~

Things died down and another school year ended and after a scorching hot summer, another began.

Alina walked into the classroom and was met with shocked silence. “Yes, I’m pregnant.”

The seniors who were sophomores when Alina and Aleksander began dating all screeched.

“How far along are you?”

“Is it a boy or a girl?”

“Is it twins?”

“What will you name them?”

Alina quieted them down. “If you don’t make a big deal out of it the rest of the period, I’ll show you the ultrasound.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

It worked but not for Aleksander’s class. By fourth period, everyone had seen Alina or heard the news.

“Mr. Morozov, congratulations!”

“Thank you, Sarah, that’s kind of you.” He replied politely. “Now, we’re going to pick up where we left off last year and talk about-”

“How far along is she?”

“Five months. Okay, reflexive verbs-”

“I heard you were having a girl, are you having a girl?”

He sighed. “If you want to ask a question, you have to ask in Russian. If any grammar or pronunciation is incorrect, I won’t answer.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~

In January, Aleksander entered the classroom but didn’t put his things down. He seemed strangely flustered and move quickly. “I wanted to just leave these worksheets with you all. Your substitute will be here in just a moment.” He passed out the papers.

“Why do we have a substitute?”

“Because I need to leave for the day.”

“Is Alina having the baby!?” Some super sleuth asked.

Aleksander longed for the days when students were terrified to ask him personal questions. “Yes. Now, please be good for the substitute and don’t bother him about questions about me. Have a good day.”

“Good luck, Mr. Morozov!”

When Aleksander returned from paternity leave, the vultures descended. He didn’t even try. He entered the classroom, opened his bag, and pulled out a photograph. “His name is Emil, he’s perfectly healthy as is Alina. You have five minutes to discuss this then you have a test.”

His students all bemoaned the restriction. But it was the same old Mr. Morozov. Even though, when the class left, he sat behind his desk and picked up the photograph of his wife holding his son. He smiled.

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