Mess, cont
Jan. 2nd, 2008 08:00 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
hajimenoippolit.livejournal.com posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
groznyj_gradRakitin stared at Liadov, his stomach clenched into a ball of ice.
Slowly, as he studied Nika's expression, he realized something.
Someone was striking derision and a wall of cold rejection, someone was where they weren't wanted, and it wasn't Polya.
How strange.
In the wash of relief and something else (acceptance? No, that was absurd), he felt an undercurrent of sympathy for the supply captain.
For the first time, it occured to him that he could play along.
Polya looked met Utrov's eyes and smiled a little, shyly.
The secret was shared, after all.
"You know, I think he does."
Slowly, as he studied Nika's expression, he realized something.
Someone was striking derision and a wall of cold rejection, someone was where they weren't wanted, and it wasn't Polya.
How strange.
In the wash of relief and something else (acceptance? No, that was absurd), he felt an undercurrent of sympathy for the supply captain.
For the first time, it occured to him that he could play along.
Polya looked met Utrov's eyes and smiled a little, shyly.
The secret was shared, after all.
"You know, I think he does."
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no subject
Date: 2008-01-12 07:47 am (UTC)"He may think he's going to punish you, and no one knows better than me how much you deserve it."
Lynx's eyes locked onto the German's, neutral and intractable.
"But when it comes down to it, everybody needs a scoundrel."
He swallowed the last of his tea.
"Don't they?" he finished, rheotorically, narrowing his eyes.