you're too young & eager to love

I was going to do more with this, but I ran out of steam. And got distracted by conversing with a certain someone

Katerina and Cassius with a teeny blip of a mention of Grisha.

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He comes back, comes home, comes to her.

Two weeks of him handling his estates, his investments, his life that is unconnected to her. Vast and different.

Katerina wants to sketch him first. It is a ritual, by now. She has papers of him – inks and charcoals and watercolors – from every time he’s ever returned. Documenting the subtle changes of the days: dirt beneath his fingers, longer hair, dry lips, or a shadow of beard across his jaw. This time, there’s a bruise across his ribcage, mottled and purple. An accident with a horse, Cassius tells her, his eyes like pellet holes in his face, dark. He drinks three fingers of scotch while she stares at the bruise, thinking the palm of her hand could cover the majority of it.

“Could you come here, zaichik?” She asks, placing the parchment down.

“Have you missed me?” Cassius starts walking to her before he speaks, though, does exactly what she tells him to, even when he’s a bit unsteady on his feet. Drinking more scotch and trying to smile. “Or you were entertained by your friend?”

“Which friend?”

He scoffs. “The mammoth one.”

Katerina laughs, but it sounds similar to a hiss. “How much have you had to drink?”

She finds his American arrogance endearing, so she does not mind it when he won’t answer her. He comes to her chair, slinking into the air around her, making a cage for her when he places his hands on the arms and leans forward. Katerina presses herself firmly against the cushioned back, but only to get a better view of his face, then she lays her hand over his ribcage. Glances down with her pear colored eyes, smiling slowly. One slight slip of her fingers, and, yes, she was correct. Her palm mostly covers his purpled skin.

When she presses on it, Cassius inhales sharply, the muscles in his jaw tightening. He’s a lean man, wolf-like with the cunning to accompany the physicality, and she can almost feel bones. He surprises her, though, when he leans into her hand. So Katerina keeps pushing, not scratching or digging, just feeding pressure against his ribs until … until … She searches his face, her teeth white when she grins with victory because, there, now, the pain melts into desire.

The harsh lines around his mouth relax, he lets his eyes close, and then she kisses him, and kisses him, and kisses him.