05-17-2019, 01:33 AM
(This post was last modified: 05-17-2019, 03:37 PM by Ivan Sarkozy.)
Ivan seemed to bounce with energy as he headed into work. Fuck, but it had been a good day. He shook his head, stupid grin on his face. It wouldn't go away. Breakfast with Zara, of course. It always made him smile. The surprise was that Danya was finished getting ready earlier than usual. And so, the three of them at the table, fresh faced smiles all around, sat eating.
These early mornings had meant no more late nights. No wasted nights at a bar or club chatting people up or just having a few. Really, what the fuck was that about anyway? People looking for a connection. Fun on occasion, sure. But when you have something real in front of you, it just seemed so empty. Fake.
So waking up wasn't as much of a struggle. Those precious moments when he felt part of the web- even with the irritation and frustration and later self recrimination- was where he found himself. And it was strange. He felt stronger. Bound more tightly, true. But drawing strength from it, too.
So there he was sitting with Danya and Zara, eating and talking and laughing, and a moment of perfect joy hit him. He looked at Danya and their eyes locked. Her smile. Her happiness. She felt the moment. Both of their eyes settled on their daughter, dark curly hair pulled back into a tight pony tail, cheeks still full with baby fat despite the sharp mind behind the eyes. Looked at her and each other again.
And something unspoken passed between them. Ivan helped Zara put her jacket on and held her backpack as Danya grabbed her purse from the couch. And then Ivan was helping her into her coat, his hand brushing her bare neck. And she had frozen for a moment.
Just a moment. And then she turned and kissed him softly on the lips, hands at the sides of his face. It wasn't that long, and yet for Ivan, heart rate spiking, butterflies fluttering, it was glorious. She looked at him and he saw the girl he used to know. Or rather, the woman she was looking up at him like the girl she had been used to. When she had loved him. He smiled at her, eyes beaming, and pulled her close, enveloping her in his arms, feeling her against him.
The logjam had broken, it seemed. He breathed, contentedly.
Zara's insistant tugging on their sleeves took them back to the moment. Locking the door, the three of them went, Zara holding both of their hands. Ivan tried to get a peek at Danya's as they walked, catching a smile on her face that thrilled him.
Somehow, the goodbye felt longer. This unspoken thing between them had taken on its own life. And he would not let it go. Never again.
At the school, he hugged Zara, felt her tiny arms around his neck, the sweet butterfly kisses of her eyelashes tickling against his cheek. He held her and then let her go, watching as she bounded up the stairs to the waiting teachers and monitors near the doors.
He turned slowly and made his way to his car and headed in. Work was always on. He tried to focus on it. A man with yellow eyes savaging a few homeless people woke him up. Brutal. Bloody. There was the rapist in the park who everyone seemed to forget raped them. There was a an adandoned building where an bunch of men- the older ones almost zombie like, the youngest barely adolescents- had been put down with multiple gun shot wounds. Preliminaries indicated a lot more people had died down there, though he only had the barest details about what that meant, exactly.
A message from Yun fired his blood. He knew she'd have her people watch. They knew of his family. The moment he'd met with Danya, she was on their radar too. He went to the training room and beaten a punching bag until his knuckles felt bruised. Mom and Pops. His brothers and sisters. His neices and nephews. Already in their crosshairs. Now Zara and Danya.
And he realized something. Or rather, let himself express something. He would kill anyone who'd hurt his family. But especially his daughter. End of story. No trial. No prison. Just dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. And he was just fine with that. He remembered the rage in the club, the ripping down of the light fixtures. He had been unhinged, then.
Now, he had purpose. The Syndicate's days of control over him were numbered. God help anyone who threatened them. His stomach boiled, enough that when he returned to work, his face was different. People asked if he felt ok, which he blew off. His mind churned. DuBois. He wanted to talk to him. The man owed him. Fucking owed him! So did that dick Brandon.
As if someone had heard his thoughts, his wallet dinged with a message. Not DuBois, of course. But a small smile formed anyway. Vega. Now that man understood. His eyes were cold, the shape of his lips a mockery of relief. Vega might be very helpful.
The smell of the coffee hit him as he stepped into the warmth of the shop. He saw Vega sitting at a table. Ivan's brows furrowed. He'd thought this would be a private meeting. He'd met Lih. Nice guy, if a bit too...hesitant. Not that he hadn't jumped into danger of his own accord. That whole thing with Boda proved that. Just that...well, it was hard for Ivan to put his finger on it. He always seemed like he was mooning around, enamored with whoever was in charge at the moment. His old partner. Vega. The Cap. Ivan'd almost thought of it as a man-crush. The guy- and they were close in age- needed to get his legs under him and be confident. A few wins would hopefully help with that.
He ordered a coffee, black, and walked to the table, nodding to both men, "Vega. Lih," and sat down. Forearms on the table, he sat back, studying them. "So what's up"
These early mornings had meant no more late nights. No wasted nights at a bar or club chatting people up or just having a few. Really, what the fuck was that about anyway? People looking for a connection. Fun on occasion, sure. But when you have something real in front of you, it just seemed so empty. Fake.
So waking up wasn't as much of a struggle. Those precious moments when he felt part of the web- even with the irritation and frustration and later self recrimination- was where he found himself. And it was strange. He felt stronger. Bound more tightly, true. But drawing strength from it, too.
So there he was sitting with Danya and Zara, eating and talking and laughing, and a moment of perfect joy hit him. He looked at Danya and their eyes locked. Her smile. Her happiness. She felt the moment. Both of their eyes settled on their daughter, dark curly hair pulled back into a tight pony tail, cheeks still full with baby fat despite the sharp mind behind the eyes. Looked at her and each other again.
And something unspoken passed between them. Ivan helped Zara put her jacket on and held her backpack as Danya grabbed her purse from the couch. And then Ivan was helping her into her coat, his hand brushing her bare neck. And she had frozen for a moment.
Just a moment. And then she turned and kissed him softly on the lips, hands at the sides of his face. It wasn't that long, and yet for Ivan, heart rate spiking, butterflies fluttering, it was glorious. She looked at him and he saw the girl he used to know. Or rather, the woman she was looking up at him like the girl she had been used to. When she had loved him. He smiled at her, eyes beaming, and pulled her close, enveloping her in his arms, feeling her against him.
The logjam had broken, it seemed. He breathed, contentedly.
Zara's insistant tugging on their sleeves took them back to the moment. Locking the door, the three of them went, Zara holding both of their hands. Ivan tried to get a peek at Danya's as they walked, catching a smile on her face that thrilled him.
Somehow, the goodbye felt longer. This unspoken thing between them had taken on its own life. And he would not let it go. Never again.
At the school, he hugged Zara, felt her tiny arms around his neck, the sweet butterfly kisses of her eyelashes tickling against his cheek. He held her and then let her go, watching as she bounded up the stairs to the waiting teachers and monitors near the doors.
He turned slowly and made his way to his car and headed in. Work was always on. He tried to focus on it. A man with yellow eyes savaging a few homeless people woke him up. Brutal. Bloody. There was the rapist in the park who everyone seemed to forget raped them. There was a an adandoned building where an bunch of men- the older ones almost zombie like, the youngest barely adolescents- had been put down with multiple gun shot wounds. Preliminaries indicated a lot more people had died down there, though he only had the barest details about what that meant, exactly.
A message from Yun fired his blood. He knew she'd have her people watch. They knew of his family. The moment he'd met with Danya, she was on their radar too. He went to the training room and beaten a punching bag until his knuckles felt bruised. Mom and Pops. His brothers and sisters. His neices and nephews. Already in their crosshairs. Now Zara and Danya.
And he realized something. Or rather, let himself express something. He would kill anyone who'd hurt his family. But especially his daughter. End of story. No trial. No prison. Just dead. Dead. Dead. Dead. And he was just fine with that. He remembered the rage in the club, the ripping down of the light fixtures. He had been unhinged, then.
Now, he had purpose. The Syndicate's days of control over him were numbered. God help anyone who threatened them. His stomach boiled, enough that when he returned to work, his face was different. People asked if he felt ok, which he blew off. His mind churned. DuBois. He wanted to talk to him. The man owed him. Fucking owed him! So did that dick Brandon.
As if someone had heard his thoughts, his wallet dinged with a message. Not DuBois, of course. But a small smile formed anyway. Vega. Now that man understood. His eyes were cold, the shape of his lips a mockery of relief. Vega might be very helpful.
The smell of the coffee hit him as he stepped into the warmth of the shop. He saw Vega sitting at a table. Ivan's brows furrowed. He'd thought this would be a private meeting. He'd met Lih. Nice guy, if a bit too...hesitant. Not that he hadn't jumped into danger of his own accord. That whole thing with Boda proved that. Just that...well, it was hard for Ivan to put his finger on it. He always seemed like he was mooning around, enamored with whoever was in charge at the moment. His old partner. Vega. The Cap. Ivan'd almost thought of it as a man-crush. The guy- and they were close in age- needed to get his legs under him and be confident. A few wins would hopefully help with that.
He ordered a coffee, black, and walked to the table, nodding to both men, "Vega. Lih," and sat down. Forearms on the table, he sat back, studying them. "So what's up"