#debated making it longer changed my mind bc its just plotless nonsense but hopefully its nice?

[harri-etvane]

Title: morning coffee Pairing: idk? Maks/Vova/Lena if you squint Summary: Volodymyr, Olena and Maksym share a morning coffee in the sunshine Word count: 1k-ish

Yawning, Volodymyr rolls over, one hand searching for a familiar, warm presence, keen to shuffle back into sleep even as morning makes itself known. Eyes still closed, patting the mattress insistently yields nothing, and as he opens his eyes begrudgingly, he finds the other side of the bed empty and bright morning sunlight streaming in through the windows of their cabin. For a moment, he's content to lie there in the warmth, the quiet - relishing in it.

It still feels strange, intransient; as though if he makes one wrong move everything will vanish. This peace is more beautiful than anything he's ever known and it feels like a fairytale. He exhales slowly.

Idly, his eyelids still heavy, he watches a few dust motes dance in the sunbeams that blanket the room in gold, his thoughts drifting without consequence from one idea to the next - the day full of untold promise. They could swim, cycle, or fish. They could go for a walk, run or ride. They could read or cook or just sit and do absolutely nothing. It is still something of a novelty; there are no five am wakeup calls, no six am meetings. There is no endless barrage of relentlessly horrible news that he must confront, no-one to console or mourn. Just this - a cosy, quiet cabin in the Carpathians where nothing is needed from him, except perhaps to decide what he would prefer for dinner.

He notices a folded piece of paper propped on the nightstand. Unwilling just now to peel himself out of bed, he instead leans over to unfold it and read the contents, rubbing at his eyes, wakefulness slowly descending on him as he shuffles into a sitting position against the headboard.

On the porch with coffee. Come join us x

He considers the words for a little while, stretching luxuriously until he can feel his shoulders crack gently, all the tension gone from him now. He is still getting used to this, to a body that does not ache with exhaustion. In the beginning, it had felt so strange, to be without the ever present tension that thrummed through each muscle, the absence startling. He had forgotten what it felt like; to not hurt, to just be at rest, to be still. 

Eventually, coffee is enough of a lure in and of itself, alongside company, to have him finally tip himself out of bed, shoving on a too-large sweatshirt and some socks as he shuffles across the sun-warmed floorboards. The cabin is quiet, almost as though the building too is at rest, waking up at the same time as he. The sound of the birds filters through the windows, bright and joyous. He pads through the corridors, quiet, as though surely - this can’t really be for him. He wonders if it will ever feel real, if the fact that this, for now at least - is his life. There are no more hours to be spent in the harshly lit situation room, or the dark misery of a bunker. No longer hurtling from one emergency to the next, from speech to press conference to interview, his whole self filled with adrenaline and anger at the pain of his people.

Just this place, here -  in the golden sunlight.

He pushes open the door, met with all the warmth of the smiles of both Olena and Maksym as they turn toward him.

“Morning sleepyhead-” Olena steps towards Vova, pulling him towards her and pressing a kiss to his cheek, taking a second to relish the warm softness of him, here, just beside her. He will not be pulled away by work, by war and all its chaos this time. They can have this - these shining moments. 

“Took you long enough-”

Their joking is affectionate, Maksym with one arm open, beckoning him forward. Automatically, Vova pads forward and leans against his side as they look out over the mountains from the porch at the front of their cabin. Another quiet exhale leaves him, his eyes closing for a moment. Unseen, Maksym and Olena share a glance at one another, the bare warmth evident in both their faces for Vova could rival the sun. For all it feels as though a  weight has left him, it has left the both of them too. They are no longer quite so terrified for him - no longer filled with the inescapable dread that a frontline trip to Kursk or Donetsk might be his last, no longer gripped by the relentless anxiety that one day something might happen to him and he would go from them.

He is here, with them.

“The note mentioned coffee-” he looks at them both, all soulful eyes - not quite pouting but close to it. It’s easy to see how persuasive he must have been in meetings with their partners; all that charisma, that sweetness; seemingly for them alone. This time however, Olena rolls her eyes and Maksym elbows him in the ribs gently, both of them almost entirely immune now to his tactics.

“Get it yourself- I’m not running around after you anymore-”

“What happened to I swear to serve?”

“The Ukrainian nation, Vova. Not you specifically-”

“You mean I’m not important to you?”

“You are. Terribly important. Doesn’t mean you can’t get your own coffee-”

Vova grumbles something that sounds suspiciously like ‘traitor’ at Maks before he looks hopefully at Olena, who blinks at him innocently.

“What? I didn’t take any oaths to the Ukrainian nation so don’t start that-”

“You did swear to love and to cherish, forever might I add… so surely that counts, no?..”

She can’t keep a straight face for much longer and she laughs sweetly, handing over a mug of coffee. It’s piping hot, steam still rising from the dark brown liquid and he beams at her in thanks.

The three of them stand in the quiet, the only noise about them is the call of the birds in the trees, the endlessly blue sky stretching out above them without pause.