Dmitry (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notyourprince) wrote2018-04-23 09:13 pm
notyourprince) wrote2018-04-23 09:13 pm
I'm not your prince, Anya
He sort of hopes that Gleb hasn't told Anya about him. Dmitry has no plans to seek her out and can't imagine that she wants to see him at all. Back at the opera house, he'd tried to make amends by chasing after the Dowager Empress but none of that changes what she said to him last, or how much he'd deserved it.
So he hopes that Gleb won't tell her but Deputy Commissioner Vaganov is (or was) a government worker, which makes him a professional tattletale. Anya probably won't want to see him anyway, even if she knows, so he hasn't used his confusing new phone to try and seek her out, quietly vows not to really.
An hour after he wakes up in an unfamiliar but warm bed, the world looking a little softer in the morning light, his resolve wavers. Dmitry talks himself out of it, making excuses in his head about how he'll have to learn how to use the damn thing and that'll take all morning. Better to wait until later. Weeks later, optimally.
Working at convincing himself this is all even real, Dmitry takes a long hot shower, amazed that it never cools down. Even the hotel had eventually run out but not here. If it weren't for the nagging sense of dread and his supposed inability to escape this place, Dmitry would be inclined to say it's nice.
After a while, even he can't stand there forever and he gets out. Dmitry's suitcase, bought cheaply off the street, looks even more battered against the clean angles of the apartment but at least he arrived with extra clothing. Apparently, that makes him lucky.
He's barely pulled up his trousers when he hears thundering footsteps in the hall and a loud pounding at the door.
So he hopes that Gleb won't tell her but Deputy Commissioner Vaganov is (or was) a government worker, which makes him a professional tattletale. Anya probably won't want to see him anyway, even if she knows, so he hasn't used his confusing new phone to try and seek her out, quietly vows not to really.
An hour after he wakes up in an unfamiliar but warm bed, the world looking a little softer in the morning light, his resolve wavers. Dmitry talks himself out of it, making excuses in his head about how he'll have to learn how to use the damn thing and that'll take all morning. Better to wait until later. Weeks later, optimally.
Working at convincing himself this is all even real, Dmitry takes a long hot shower, amazed that it never cools down. Even the hotel had eventually run out but not here. If it weren't for the nagging sense of dread and his supposed inability to escape this place, Dmitry would be inclined to say it's nice.
After a while, even he can't stand there forever and he gets out. Dmitry's suitcase, bought cheaply off the street, looks even more battered against the clean angles of the apartment but at least he arrived with extra clothing. Apparently, that makes him lucky.
He's barely pulled up his trousers when he hears thundering footsteps in the hall and a loud pounding at the door.
no subject
She didn't regret what she'd done. Biting her lower lip, she looks coyly up at him before lifting her chin in mild defiance. "They deserved it. I've just been living my life. Almost no one knows my father was the tsar here, so why shouldn't I just live?"
no subject
"Is that..." Is that what you want? Is that what makes you happy? seem like questions he's not allowed to ask. It doesn't change that he wants to know. "Does that work for you?"