Hi! This is Aleksander's point of view from my tattoo artist and florist verse. I would recommend you read 'something so magic about you, something so tragic about you' in order to get a better sense of the story.


i.

He's been back in Ravka for a whole four days when he meets the florist next door, and the thing that used to be his heart finds a second reason to start beating again.

The first reason, his daughter Mila, is why he ends up meeting his flower shop owner neighbor.

It's the first Tuesday of March and his daughter should be starting kindergarten, a late admission to the most exclusive preschool in Os Alta, only possible because he made a considerable donation to the institution. She should be going to school not only because he threw money at them to accept her, but also because she needs to do what other five-year-olds do. But that morning Aleksander took a look at his daughter, at his reason to live, and decided he could not separate from her. So she didn't go to school, she could start on Wednesday. It was as good a day as any.

He ends up bringing her with him to work, much to the delight of everyone in the parlor. After all, they haven't seen her for a whole year, so she ends up being the center of attention, everyone cooing at her and saying how big and how beautiful she's gotten. Aleksander watches from the side, happy to see Milyena smiling and giving hugs all around. He's happy she's there, and she's the center of attention because that means nobody even looks at him, and he can collapse; albeit, only internally and silently.

It's hard being back. It's even harder to think that the place that he built from the ground up it's not capable of bringing him the happiness that it once did.

He's happy to see his staff, do not misunderstand him. These are his people, the ones that he trusts the most and cherishes as well. It's just that it's hard to feel happiness when it was taken from him so abruptly, so unjustly.

At least he has his daughter. He might never experience true happiness ever again, but he'll do anything in his power to make sure she's the happiest person to ever walk on Earth.

But still, it's nice to see them again, to listen to what they've been up to. Nina and Matthias adopted a dog —although he's pretty sure that thing is a wolf and Mila is not getting anywhere near it— Marie is thinking about specializing in minimalistic tattoos, Zoya broke up with her girlfriend and is using every dating app available to meet people, and Genya and David moved into a bigger house. He's happy for them, he really is. It's just that he can't help the feeling that he can't connect with them, at least not the way he used to, and he misses that.

Luckily, customers start to feel in, and the reunion ends before anyone can ask him how he truly is feeling. He's not going to talk about that. He's just not ready.

He and Mila retreat to his office, where he sets up some coloring books and dolls for her to entertain herself with, while he opens up his computer and catches up with work, after a year of not even thinking about it. The happy sounds of his daughter are the only thing that can be heard in the office. As he looks at her, peacefully drawing, he knows this is his life from now on, and he's okay with it.

"Papa, I want water." She says from her spot on the couch. He nods and looks around for Mila's backpack. When he doesn't find it, he supposes they left it outside, but before he can say that, his phone rings, announcing Ivan's call. If it was someone else, he'd ignore it, but Ivan only calls when it's important.

"Go to Genya, tell her to look for your backpack, okay?" He says and his daughter nods before heading out of his office.

If you'd ask Aleksander what the call was about, he'd never be able to answer because after the call ends, his life is turned upside down.

"Genya, where's Mila?" He asks when the call has ended and his daughter has yet to return. When Genya lifts her head from the documents she's studying to look at him, he can see it as clear as day. Mila didn't go to Genya as she was told.

He tries to keep calm and be rational about the situation. He and Luda had done their best to raise her. She knows she's not supposed to wander without supervision. She knows she should be with a familiar adult at all times. And yet, when he walks around the parlor —with his best poker face on, not letting anyone know he's completely freaking out on the inside— he knows Mila is not there. Her backpack is, but his daughter is nowhere to be found.

He just lost his Luda. Is he supposed to lose his daughter as well? If his wife had heard that thought, she would've accused him of being dramatic and jumping to conclusions. But that's how Aleksander felt as he did a second lap around the parlor and found no signs of Mila.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, the worry accumulating in his stomach, the negative thoughts poisoning his brain. He was living his worst nightmare as a parent and yet his appearance remained stoic. He was not going to show his true feelings right now, he was a boss, and he was a person that demanded respect. No one needed to know he was dying on the inside. No one needed to know his eyes were burning with unshed tears.

He became desperate after that second lap around the parlor, so he decided to step outside and look for her on the street. And when it's clear that she's not there

He felt like a feral animal, just that instead of looking for prey, he was looking for his cub, and he would not rest until he found her, until she was safe with him. He wasn't a religious man, but he prayed to the Saints that she was fine, that no one had touched or hurt her in any possible way. He prayed that he would be able to hug her again.

He decides to go to the shop next door once it's obvious she's not on the street. Aleksander wants to try his luck before he starts calling the police and every tracker available in town to find his daughter.

But there's no need, because he finds her there, in Koroleva, surrounded by beautiful flowers, accompanied by a dog and a strange woman who's smiling and looking at his daughter with pure, unadulterated joy. Suddenly, all the negative thoughts leave his mind because Mila is fine, she's okay, he can breathe now, he can go back to being a regular person, not someone whose thoughts have been completely obscured by desperation.

Not someone ready to burn everything to find his daughter.

And that's when something strange happens because once his thoughts no longer revolve around his daughter and her well-being, his brain makes a point to make him look at the woman. Not only that, but it also makes him realize that the woman is beautiful. Black hair secured in a high ponytail, eyes gazing adoringly at his daughter, lips in a soft smile, her petite body relaxed, sitting on the floor next to a dog and his kid. Her face is something to behold because it's so light, so relaxed, and just radiant. As if she had made a pact with the sun and now she had the power to illuminate everyone, just with the power of her smile.

Aleksander thought that if he was a gray cloud, she might as well be a ray of sunshine. And he desperately needed that in his life.

He shook his head as soon as he had that thought. No, he did not need anything of the sort. What he needed to do was get his daughter and get back home, where she could be safe. He didn't need to think about a beautiful woman, he needed to check that his daughter was safe.

"Milyena?" He asks all the sorrow and worries back in his voice.

She runs towards him and Aleksander feels like he can breathe again once she's safe in his arms. For a minute, he's so relieved that he forgets he's hugging her too tightly and it's only when she points to that fact that he relaxes a little. He doesn't say he's sorry, though, because she might never be able to understand what he had just experienced, what she caused him to feel. So yeah, he didn't mean to squeeze her so hard, but for a second there he thought something had happened to her, and he couldn't bear the thought.

He's vaguely aware of the woman looking at them, but he doesn't pay attention to that, even if he would like to see her closely. He also shuts that thought down immediately.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt, zolotse?" He asks, separating himself only the necessary to inspect her, caressing her face and checking for signs of violence. Even though he knows that's highly unlikely, the woman seemed harmless —regarding Mila, that is, because she was threatening his sanity— but he needed to check for himself.

"No papa." She says with a smile, shaking her head at his questions.

"You scared me, Mila, don't ever do that again." He whispers before kissing her cheek and swallowing all the tears he wanted to shed right now.

Mila puts her little hand on his cheek, her smile still not leaving her face. "I'm sorry papa. I'm okay." He thinks it's adorable how serious she manages to get despite her young age, so he gives her a small smile before hugging her again.

Which turns out to be a mistake because the woman's eyes are on them, or well, on him. Because there's no denying she's looking at him.

That's when he decides it's too much. He needs to leave the place now.

"C'mon Mila. Let's go." He says, before carrying his daughter out of the store. He can feel Mila waving her hand at the woman, and he feels like a hypocrite because he's always telling his daughter to use her manners, and he hadn't been able to do that just now. He should've introduced himself to the woman who looked after Mila for those brief seconds or thanked her for keeping an eye on his daughter. Instead, he ran out of her store, like a coward.

After a year of mourning, of only feeling fleeting joy that was only caused by his daughter; he had just experienced too many emotions in less than fifteen minutes. He needed to get home and get himself a drink.

"I'm going home, Genya." He says once he's back in the parlor, with Mila still in his arms. "See you tomorrow."

He can tell she wants to say something, but she simply nods and bids them goodbye.

It's only once Mila is secured in her chair, and he starts the car that he realizes he's shaking. He's shaking so much he needs a second before he starts driving, so he rests his forehead against the wheel, trying to ignore the two rebel tears that leave his eyes and run freely in his cheeks.

"Papa, I'm really sorry." Mila says from her spot, making Aleksander raise his head and wipe the tears away before looking at her from the rearview mirror.

"Please don't do that again, zolotse. I was very, very worried."

"I love you, papa." And the big smile that appears on her face makes Aleksander smile in return. She was fine, his daughter was fine.

"I love you too." He says before driving home.

He decides to let the subject rest. He doesn't want to relieve the ocean of feelings that flood him in the morning. He also doesn't want to think about the woman and how his brain —now branded as a traitor— had also been flooded with thoughts towards her. So, he decides he's not going to think about that and that he needs a fucking drink, asap.

He does a pretty good job trying to avoid thinking too much, but when nighttime rolls around, and he's going to read Mila a story, she asks if they have books about flowers.

"We can look… Why?" He furrows his brows in confusion, Mila was going through a farm animal phase. They were making their way through a book they bought in Ketterdam, so his daughter's request was out of the ordinary.

"Alina, she…" Mila looks at him, and he can tell she's feeling a little guilty. "She showed me flowers, pretty flowers papa."

"Is Alina the name of the woman you met this morning?" Mila immediately nods her head and smiles, probably remembering her time in the flower shop.

"The flowers were pretty and she was pretty. She had a dog, and she let me pet it." Mila explains and Aleksander pinches the bridge of his nose because now he can't ignore this. He can't ignore anything that makes her happy.

"Is that why you went there? Because of the dog?"

"No papa, the flowers!" She says, sounding a little exasperated as if he wasn't paying attention to what she was explaining. "I went because of flowers!"

And he cannot fault her. His daughter was very much like him. She liked beautiful things, and she chased them. So it was clear that Mila probably saw the store next door and decided to investigate for herself, not realizing how close she had been very close to giving him a heart attack.

"Tell me what you did there, please." He asks, realizing that tonight he's not going to read her a story, so he simply lays next to her on the bed. Ready to devote all his attention to what she's going to tell him.

"Alina was worried, like you papa! She wanted to know if I was okay. Then she showed me her flowers." She says, excitedly, gesturing with her arms and with eyes as big as plates. "So many flowers papa, so many colors! We need flowers for the house!"

What Milyena didn't know was that Aleksander was capable of buying an entire flower shop just to see her happy. Tomorrow he'll go and buy flowers, just not from the store next door.

"And then she showed me her dog. Her name is Sol, and she was nice. I gave her a lot of belly rubs." Mila giggles and Aleksander nods, that's where he had found her. "Can we get a dog papa? I want to give belly rubs to Sol again." She pleads, pouting as if her life depended on it.

Aleksander knows he'll give her anything she asks for. But then he remembers his wife and how she often accused him of spoiling their daughter; she was right, of course, so he knows that, sadly, he'll have to break her heart.

"How about I get you some books about flowers and some actual flowers for the house?" He asks, making his daughter pout as an answer to his question. "I'm sorry Mila, maybe in a couple of years we can get a dog."

"But papa…"

"Let's see how well we do with the flowers." He says, standing up from bed before tucking her in. She's still pouting, crossing her tiny arms across her chest. She looks so much like Luda right now, Aleksander has to make a visible effort not to choke. "I love you zolotse, please don't be mad at papa." He says, trying to tickle her. For a moment she remains impassive, but then her laughter resonates across the room.

"I love you, papa."

"I love you too, Mila. Have sweet dreams." He says, kissing her forehead before turning off the lights and leaving the room.

ii.

After Mila is asleep, he serves himself another glass of whiskey, because he deserves it. Coming back to reality was not easy. Even if he knew going back to a routine would be an adjustment, today was just too much in every possible way. But he knows it's more than that. It's realizing that Mila needs to go to school, and he needs to start making a real effort into going back to the routine.

Aleksander might be back in Ravka, but he needs to mean it. He needs to start to get his life together, knowing full well it will never be the same but, also coming to terms that he needs to actively try because hasn't been trying.

Aleksander sighs as he finishes his drink and goes back to his bedroom.

When he decided to leave Ravka after Luda's burial, he had no destination in mind. All he knew was that he needed to leave his house and the memories that lived within those walls. So he had given Genya his own set of keys, asking her to keep an eye on the house for him. She had always been the best at whatever she did, but she was also loyal and cared deeply for them. So, when she asked him if he wanted her to hire some people and put stuff —Luda's, obviously— in storage, he nodded because he knew he wouldn't be able to do that himself.

He also asked her to get rid of his bed, the one where he and Luda had slept for seven years, where they had shared dreams and fears, where they had been happy together.

When he came back, he had a new bed, but the ache remained in his heart. Because he could probably change everything in his life, but that would only serve to emphasize that he was alone. He was a widow. He was a single father. Luda was no longer at his side.

He sighs and decides to get ready to sleep, unsure of why he's torturing himself with those thoughts.

It's only when he gets to bed, still very awake and without an ounce of sleep, that he realizes there's something he wants to do. Even if he shouldn't, even if a part of him doesn't want to. It doesn't matter, it's not something new; he has always kept tabs on the people next to his parlor. It was simply the logical thing to do. He knew everything about the awful hipster vegan nonsense that thankfully, was no longer next to his place.

He wasn't technically doing anything wrong.

The truth is, he can try and bullshit himself all he wants, but he knows the woman's face, Alina's, has not left his thoughts since they left the flower shop. It's been lurking in the back of his mind, torturing him little by little.

He takes a deep breath and grabs his phone before he can think twice about what he's doing. He types 'Koroleva flower shop' in the search engine, and he's quickly rewarded by all the information the Internet has to provide, including the full name of the beautiful owner of the place: Alina Starkov.

He says her name out loud, only for himself to hear it because he knows he can't say her name again. It'd be too much, he can't do that to himself; what he needs is boundaries and walls to stay away from her. Saying her name, her beautiful name, would threaten the foundation of said walls, and yet, he can't stop himself from saying it again, as if he's getting used to the way it tastes on his tongue.

He needs to get her out of her system. That's what he needs to do.

His hand slips under his boxers, and he starts to touch himself while thinking about her. His mind is a mess, consumed by her smile that seemed to illuminate her store, by her eyes and how she looked at him, by the way, he imagines her petite body would feel against his. He says her name, tasting it in his mouth at the same time he jerks himself.

When he comes, with her name on his lips, he thinks this is it. He's going to stop thinking about her. He doesn't even think he's lying to himself, he really believes he's gotten her out of his system.

He has no idea he's barely scratching the surface.

iii.

After last night's event, Aleksander starts his morning trying to avoid any thoughts related to Alina Starkov at all costs. But, of course, the universe seems to have other plans.

Mila, for one, doesn't do anything else other than talk about her. As he helps her get ready for her first day of kindergarten, all his daughter does is talk about flowers, the dog named Sol, and Alina. She even shows him a drawing she made, obviously trying to represent all the flowers she saw in the flower shop. He can't deal with his daughter's new obsession, but he doesn't have the heart to tell her that, so he simply directs the conversation towards her new milestone. Which, honestly, isn't much better because it breaks his heart to leave her for so many hours, but that's better than keeping Alina in his thoughts.

Luckily, Mila seems happy, which is great because at least one of them should feel happy about her finally starting school. He takes a million photos of her in her uniform and hugs her too tightly when saying goodbye, but this time she doesn't say anything about that. He only leaves once Mila is completely out of his sight, and he realizes there's no point in standing there anymore.

After all, he does want his daughter to have a life.

This is what parenting is, understanding his heart will break a little each time she lets go of his hand to live her life. But even if it hurts, Aleksander wouldn't have it any other way.

He goes to the parlor, he has some things to deal with, and he thinks that maybe he can hide his sadness in the millions of papers Genya has for him to sign. But what ends up happening is that he spends the rest of his morning fretting, worrying so much about Mila, and not listening to any sort of advice. Genya is tempted to kick him out of his own store because of his behavior. She doesn't do that but she does leave him alone, not wanting to be around him if he won't listen to her.

It's only between signatures, calls, and thoughts about his daughter's day that he realizes that Mila hid her drawing of the flowers in his briefcase. That's when a smile forms on his lips, because his daughter's art is beautiful and even if he doesn't want to think about the florist, he does have to admit she was kind to Mila, and he was impolite and somewhat rude to her.

He looks at the drawing again and then goes through his drawers to find the chocolates he brought to the office. He brought a bunch of them in Novyi Zem because he couldn't get enough and decided to take them with him back to Ravka. He shouldn't be giving away the chocolates, much less to her. But he thinks it's fair. He does try to impart the importance of manners to his daughter, and even if she's not there to witness it, this is the right thing to do.

He writes a simple letter, explaining his appreciation before approaching the store. He only goes in when he's positively sure she's not there, handing it to some employee, who obviously recognizes him, before going to pick Mila from school.

He thinks about her when he drives to preschool, imagining how her face would look when she sees the chocolates, and despite not wanting to he keeps thinking about her until it's time to go and pick up his daughter. When he goes to her room and finds her, Mila smiles at him as if she didn't miss him at all. His heart breaks, but only a little, because he knows that's for the best.

On Thursday he doesn't even bother going to the parlor after dropping Mila for school —this time the hug is less tight and it's shorter, but his levels of worry remain the same—. He's not needed there, after all, so he meets with Ivan downtown. He doesn't think about Alina the whole time, but the truth is that he can't congratulate himself on successfully avoiding all thoughts relating to her because it's not by sheer will that he accomplishes that. It's because real life comes knocking on his door, and he makes himself answer, despite how hard it is.

However, he does succeed in not thinking about Alina until Saturday night. After having surprised his staff with reservations at a high-end restaurant, his way of saying thank you for keeping the boat afloat when he was away. They had all received significant raises but this was just an extra thank you because they deserved it and seeing their faces full of joy because of the news was worth it.

Even if that meant he was the one who had to close the store, keeping him from Mila; who he hasn't seen today, because of work, relying on Fedyor to take care of her —Fedyor, who was about to receive a spa retreat for him and Ivan as his way of thanking them for their unwavering support—. To say that he was rushing through his things to finally go home to his daughter is an understatement. But, because things don't work out as he expects them, it ends up taking longer for him to get home.

Because of Alina Starkov.

She's in his parlor, looking around the place with obvious awe. Her eyes are open, taking in her surroundings with what can only be described as astonishment. He can't help but feel smug about it. He likes it when people admire his hard work. However, this is not a random person; this is Alina with light in her eyes despite the hardships of the day —if her clothes can tell a story is that she's a hard worker— with messy hair and her lips open up just so…

His dick actually twitches in his tailored trousers at the thought of her pretty mouth doing not so pretty things. And then, because he cannot believe his luck, his phone drops to the floor, alerting her of his presence. Fuck.

He grabs it at the same time as he hears her call out to Genya, probably the one who's responsible for her presence in the parlor. There's no way to avoid the encounter, so he steps into her view, hoping that the exchange is short, and he doesn't have to spend much time with her, despite how much he wants to.

Without even wanting to, his eyes zero in on her, immediately making her feel flustered if the blush on her cheeks is to be believed. He plans to remain in this role, imposing, almost emulating the person he was before. It doesn't come so easily to him anymore, but he'll do whatever it takes to make her feel a little uncomfortable so that the encounter goes by quickly.

But he cannot help himself. When she points out that he's not Genya, he's amused by her. By how she reacts under his scrutiny, by how cute she looks even when she's ashamed. People have completely crumbled under that stare and yet there she is, as embarrassed as she might feel, she's still there, still standing, still holding his gaze.

And then silence comes and he lets it. He lets her look at him. Why? He's not sure, but he lets it happen despite the rational part of his brain screaming at him that he should put an end to this nonsense. She's blatantly checking him out, and he's not emotionally available to anyone and that includes beautiful florists that wander into his parlor at night, which makes him wonder if she's a wannabe little red riding hood, and he's the big bad wolf. If the circumstances were different, he wouldn't have hesitated. He would eat her gladly. He would feast on her until she begged for mercy, but alas … These are the circumstances they are in, so, little red riding hood is safe.

He ends up clearing his throat in hopes of salvaging some of his sanity.

After she explains what she's doing there, confirming his suspicions that Genya is, in fact, the person who practically dropped Alina into his lap, he feels guilty. He shouldn't, of course, and he knows that, but he is the one who arranged for the reservation for his staff, depriving her of the promised tour. Before he can even realize what he's about to do, the words are out of his mouth; "But I can give you a tour if you'd like."

Part of his brain, his dick, and his mouth have all betrayed him since he met this woman, which is decidedly not great. At least he can count on years of schooling his facial expressions so that his face betrays nothing. Small miracles, they say.

He's amused by her false attempt at refusing his offer and as he walks to be closer to her and start the tour for once and for all, he realizes he really shouldn't trust himself around her. That's why he needs walls, why he needs his poker face, why he needs to remain cold and stern, why he needs to call her Miss Starkov instead of Alina. That's why he's thankful he's still wearing his wedding ring. That's why he needs to look at his watch, the one that Luda gave him as an engagement present; he doesn't need to check the time, he needs to remind himself that he had a wife and that he's a widow and that this cannot go anywhere. That will remind him that he needs space from her so that everything is alright.

But for all the amusement he feels about her behavior, he should be amused at himself, because despite all the thoughts about wanting to keep this short, there he is, determined to give her the tour.

However, giving her the tour is easy, at least in a way, because talking about the place he built, about the people he hired, his friends and family, about the passion that they still have for this place is something that comes naturally for him. He might not have set foot into the parlor for the last year, and he's still trying to come to terms with what it means to him now that he's a different man, but even so, the love he has for the place is there. In the background, a little faded, but there nonetheless.

When she mentions the predominance of the color black, he has to bite back a smile, although he can't shake or mask the teasing tone when he answers her. She's cute and he seems defenseless against that.

He's been trying to keep the atmosphere of the visit somewhat light and impersonal. He doesn't want to be rude, but, at the same time, and despite what his actions seem to show, he doesn't want to encourage closeness between them. She's his neighbor, and they will see each other from time to time, but beyond that, he is truly thankful for how she treated Mila and the smile she put on his daughter's face. So, he wants to be polite, but not necessarily friendly.

However, the second she asks him if he's a tattoo artist, the atmosphere he's trying to maintain goes out the window.

He knows she's not doing it on purpose. The astonishment in her voice and face is enough for him to know, but still, it's hard for him to react nicely to the question, because: what answer is he supposed to give her? What can he say to her that's honest? In the end, he doesn't care about the truth, the facts, or his current situation. When he says; "Well, of course, Miss Starkov," he says it with hate, because that should be the truth —albeit, a part of it, he's still a businessman— and yet it is not.

He's bitter about the turn of events. His head is still going over her question and his answer when she tells him to call her Alina. He can only blame the fact that his brain is still mulling over that and, therefore, he doesn't register what he's saying to her, that he's admitting, although not with those exact words, to having looked her up. Well, fuck, isn't that great.

There's little he can do to salvage the situation. The admission is obvious and it's not like he can take it back. So he goes with the truth while running his hand through his hair, a little exasperated with himself about that fumble. But then, he thinks, he would've preferred the embarrassment any day over what happens once she seems to realize who he actually is.

When she refers to him as The Darkling, he feels as if she might've taken a knife and driven it through his broken heart. As of one year ago, no one called him that. Well, no one in his close circle does that, at least. For the Internet and the fans, the man, the myth, and the legend will always exist. But no, he's not The Darkling, and he doubts he'll ever be that person again. He can fake it well enough when he needs to. But, at the end of the day, he's not even completely sure he wants to be who he once was.

Luda had always laughed at the moniker, she found it amusing even if it was based in reality. He wonders what she'd think of him now.

But the woman in front of him is not Luda. She's someone who's just realizing who the person in front of her is. She doesn't know, of course, the reason why it hurts so much to even listen to the moniker. So he can't find it in himself to be mad at her, not when her face denoted surprise in a completely endearing way.

He offers his hand to her, trying to stir the conversation into a road where he doesn't have to wallow in his past, but also, officially introducing himself, something that had escaped him almost twice already.

When he shakes her hand, he has to make an effort to keep his poker face because even if it's just a polite and cordial gesture, he can't help but think he likes her hand —is there anything about her he doesn't like?—. It's warm, small and, although it's soft, he can feel little cuts and calluses in it, no doubt caused by her work. He'd like to kiss her hand. He'd like to gently take care of her hands that are, without a doubt, a reflection of who she is. Because he thinks she might be small, but there's no denying she's fierce, that there's strength inside her.

In another life, he would be pulling her towards him. He wouldn't be escorting her to the exit, no. Instead, he'd be taking her to the back of the parlor and taking her to his office to have sex with her; on the couch, on his desk, on the freaking floor until she begged to come around his cock. But that's not what's happening right now. What's happening is that he's asking her to call him Aleksander because he might need his walls and to keep her at bay, but he also doesn't want to make her feel uncomfortable, and he knows she would like to address him by his first name.

So he lets her, only because he thinks his name would sound beautiful with her voice. When he listens to her, he smiles genuinely because it sounds as pretty as he imagined.

He inhales and exhales once she's gone. But that's exactly when he realizes that she has left her scent all over his store. She might not be there anymore, but she has left him with a present; the smell of a million flowers, the smell of Alina Starkov.

iv.

It's as if once he's actually met and spent some time with Alina, suddenly she was in everyone's mouth.

When he goes to the parlor on Monday, his staff is talking about her. That's when he realizes that she's met them during Saturday's breakfast, a moment of the week reserved to hang out between them. He usually went to those, he usually looked forward to just hanging out with his friends. This time he was needed for other business, which worked out great because he wasn't sure he wanted to attend.

Maybe it was for the best that he didn't go because he was starting to think that Alina was actually doing everything on purpose. Was she actually trying to drive him mad? Were his friends plotting with her to drive him insane?

For the first time since last Wednesday, his thoughts do not revolve around worrying about Mila. Not only because she had let him know that she was happy at kindergarten but also because, after saying hello to everyone and secluding himself in his office he starts to reflect on his life.

Aleksander had wanted peace all his life. It was a constant, it was the reason he started to draw, and later it became the reason why he would love to hold a tattoo machine in his hand because the sound it made immediately brought him peace. His childhood had been less than ideal so as he grew up, his search for peace became his number one goal.

And he found it, in many things, but the first time he found it was in Shu Han, in Botkin's tattoo parlor. He was twenty years old when he first held a tattoo machine in his hand, and even though he was midway through getting his business degree, he knew this was his true calling in life because when he held it, he felt peace.

He also found peace in Luda; it was the reason he married her. He loved her, of course, he was in love with her, but she brought him peace, calm, a safe space where he could just relax, let his guard down and be himself. When Luda died she took all of the peace with her, and now Aleksander didn't know what peace was, how it felt, or what it looked like anymore. Single parenthood was not compatible with peace, each day was a challenge, with its own set of hardships and things to deal with not only because of Mila but because such was the way of life.

A part of him wonders if maybe he'd be able to find peace with someone else, maybe with Alina… But Genya appears, without knocking of course, and he can't be mad at her because she just saved him from going down a road he doesn't want to navigate.

"How was your weekend?" She asks, sitting in front of him. At first, he doesn't think there's anything out of the ordinary with her question. Genya was the manager, his right-hand woman but above all, she was his oldest friend —along with Ivan, of course— she was just keeping an eye on him. But after he tells her all about what he did with Mila and the meetings he had; she asks point-blank; "I'll rephrase; how was your Friday night?"

For a second, he doesn't understand what she's talking about but then, after seeing her smile that was pretending to be coy but was anything but, he realizes what's going on. He will not allow it.

"Genya…" He says, voice cool and sharp, a warning. However, the thing about knowing someone for a long time is that those things don't work on them.

"She's nice, you know. Made me a ridiculously beautiful bouquet to take home. Even David said it was pretty." She explains, and it doesn't surprise him that Genya was the one who sought her out. What surprised him was that it took her this long, unless… No, that wasn't a surprise either. She always knew what she was doing, this was no exception. He raises his eyebrow and crosses his arms over his chest, cocking his head to the side. Aleksander has no intention of saying anything, not until she's shown her cards. "And she had breakfast with us on Saturday. She got along with everybody. She even managed to make Zoya laugh."

Aleksander remains stoic, he's set on not saying anything which annoys Genya to no end. She scoffs at him before continuing; "No one noticed, of course, but I could tell that when anyone mentioned the boss she would blush a little, she also had this nervous energy as if she was debating whether or not she wanted you to make an appearance."

"What is your angle here? Please enlighten me, because I would just love to know." There's sarcasm in his voice, of course, he knows what she's aiming for but he's not going to play games. He's not in the mood for that sort of thing. Genya purses her lips, clearly not enjoying his tone, but then she sighs and shrugs.

"She's a nice person but you already know that and if you forget I'm pretty sure Mila is there to remind you." His daughter, who now wanted to read about flowers and wanted the house flooded with them. Mila, who on Sunday asked him if they could go to Koroleva because she wanted to see Sol and Alina. "I saw her turn that place upside down and turn it into a real store after what the hipsters did to it. You should've seen her, it was something else." He considers himself a patient man but maybe he's starting to reach his limit. "So you know she's nice and that she's a hard worker, now I'm telling you that she's available and she seems interested."

"Let me get this straight. I send you all to a high-end restaurant to say thank you for all you've done for me and your way of responding is by parent trapping me. Me, a forty-year-old widow with a daughter to raise on my own."

"You're not forty yet and please stop being an ass, not only to me but to yourself. I just want you to know there's a world out there Aleksander. Single fathers date again, widowed people find love again, please don't do this to yourself." He can't keep looking at her when she says this. Because he knows she's saying it out of care for him. Genya might be cunning and astute, but she wasn't actively trying to piss him off, she was just reminding him there was a world outside his grief.

Which is something he technically knows but he still has to find a way to go back to it, on his own terms.

"Look, I'm sorry if I overstepped…" Aleksander's eyes find hers and at the same time he raises his eyebrow she rolls her eyes at him. "Fine, I'm not sorry. But what I mean to say is that I want you to be happy. It doesn't have to be with Alina or anyone else for all that matter. I just care about you, we all do." She says and Aleksander nods, he knows she's telling the truth, he also knows her heart is in the right place. He's just still coming to terms with everything.

"I know. I have no words to thank you for that." He sighs, because lately all he seems to be doing is thanking people, which he wouldn't mind but this wouldn't be happening if Luda was still alive. "I also would like to let you know that you're lucky you're my friend. Otherwise, I would've fired you for the little stunt you pulled." He's not one to joke to change the subject, but right now he's not above using that trick. Genya doesn't buy it and neither does he. "Just take my thanks Genya, because I mean them. The rest… I don't know, I don't want to think about it."

What a big lie he's telling because all he seems to be able to do lately is think about Alina.

"Fine." She says, understanding there's not much else for her to do. She stands up and steps closer to him, putting her hand on his shoulder. "Just try to keep in mind that you have a life to live and that before you were Mila's father you were Aleksander Morozova, my best friend and the scariest, most talented bitch I know." He smiles at that, unable to avoid it but it's worth it because Genya smiles as well, gently patting his shoulder and making her way to the door to leave him alone.

Before Genya leaves his office he looks at her; "Does she know?" There's no need to specify what he's talking about.

"No, that's for you to tell her. If and when you want to." Genya answers and he nods as she steps out of his office.

He takes a look at the ring on his finger, and repeats Genya's words to himself; if and when you want to. He's not sure he wants to burden Alina with a sadness that doesn't belong to her.

v.

He's been buying his time with Mila, getting her flowers from other stores —which is kind of a jerk move on his part— and derailing the conversation every time it comes close to Alina and her store. But one Friday night his daughter all but demands to go back and Aleksander can't deny her that.

That's exactly why, after having breakfast on Saturday morning, he finds himself waiting for Alina to arrive at the store. If he had a say in the matter, he would've waited a couple of more hours because being there waiting for her seemed a bit much, but Mila heard none of it. And so there he was, offering to help Alina carry the flowers from the storage because he was nothing if not an idiot who had no control around her.

But then he sees Mila's drawing in her office and he thinks waking up early and waiting for her it's worth it. Because his daughter's painting is there, among photos of what he can assume are her friends, among a photo of a younger Sol, among a photo of her as a young kid with two people who must be her parents. There, among all these snapshots of Alina's life, is Mila, his daughter, the reason he still wakes up in the morning and doesn't drown himself in whiskey.

And then she speaks about it as if it was not a big deal. He suspects that maybe that's because she's not a mother and cannot fully comprehend that, as a parent, anything regarding one's kids is important. She has no clue that having the drawing up there, giving it importance, is something monumental for Aleksander. Because yes, she's nice to Mila, she had just extended even more kindness by expressing how she's always welcome to the store, but one thing was to speak and another thing was to act.

And Aleksander was a man of big words but he always backed those with actions, just like Alina is doing right now.

He thinks that's going to be the highlight of his day until she opens her storage and he comes face to face with a million flowers. He's pretty sure he even forgets to breathe because he has never seen something like this, something so alive, vibrant, and full of colors. But that's just one part because the smells are otherworldly and it reminds him of when she left the parlor after the tour and all he could smell was her and her flowers.

What an honor to be able to see this, he thinks, because there are few things as magnificent as what he was seeing. But then Alina claps her hands and when his gaze lands on her he can't help but think the flowers cannot rival her.

They start to move the flowers in silence and although it's fine, it's not awkward or uncomfortable, he decides to ask her about her business. He has some knowledge about that because he went back to look at her website and then to check the social media accounts of the store —never her personal ones, he doesn't want to be a creep—. So he technically knows she started on social media before going viral and getting enough funds to open Koroleva's first location but he wants to hear her story from her lips. He wants to see her light up while talking about the store, so he decides to simply ask.

He's glad he does because her face indeed does light up but it's a hundred times better than he ever imagined.

"Why the name Koroleva?" He asks while he's carrying what she told him were lilies. She doesn't answer immediately which makes him look at her. Her cheeks are slightly pink and she's biting her lip as if she's debating whether or not to ask that question.

"You're gonna think it's silly." She says, not looking at him as she puts the flowers in their respective place. Once she points at where he should leave the ones he's holding, he does quickly before looking at her.

"I promise you, I will never think that, Miss Starkov." He says, his voice doesn't leave room for doubt and that has the desired effect because now she raises her face to look at him.

"I was out with some friends. I had quit the flower shop where I was working a couple of months ago and I was just showing my arrangements on social media, you know, freelancing. And then Vasily Lanstov's ex-girlfriend gave me a shoutout on Instagram, which gave me fifteen minutes of fame that I managed to extend and take the most advantage of, so, by then I had some money saved up. I was telling my friends about how I wanted to open my own store with that money." She starts and Aleksander nods, this he already knows but it's nice to hear her speak.

"We were drinking, I mean, at that point I'm pretty sure we were almost completely wasted. And one of my friends suggested the name." She explains, and there's a fondness in her voice as if she was transported to the moment. "He said it was fitting because then I'd be a queen among flowers, which is stupid. Trust me, I know. But in the end, I liked the name so it stuck."

She thinks it's stupid. She thinks that she's not truly a queen, but she is. She's, without a doubt, the most beautiful flower in her store.

"I don't think it's stupid, Miss Starkov." He says without thinking. He's lucky he has enough self-restraint to not blurt out the extent of his thoughts, but when he sees her smile at his comment he thinks that maybe it was enough.

"Here, let me show you a picture." She says, averting her eyes from him before looking for her phone in her apron. "This is when I opened the store, in our former location." She explains, showing him a photo depicting four people. "The one that's not smiling is Kaz. He helps me with taxes and stuff, he was a lifesaver at the beginning. I know he seems grumpy but he's the best. The one next to him is Inej, she's the one who came up with the logo and everything for the store. She's such a brilliant graphic designer, I swear she made my ideas look a thousand times better."

She says to him and he can't help but smile at her, even if she doesn't see it, eyes still on her phone. He's happy she has these people, he's happy she has a support system, that her friends care for her so much that they would encourage and aid her in achieving her dreams.

"The one to my left is Jesper. He's the one that suggested the name. That was his only input to the store. He's just a nuisance." She jokes, looking up at him. Luckily, they are not that close so that they are all over each other's personal space, but it's still close enough so that all that Aleksander can see is her. "I met them all during my brief stint in college. I can't believe that after all these years we're still friends."

He doesn't know what to say so he simply nods at her words while she scrolls through her phone. She seems happy, still reeling from the memories she just relived, seemingly content enough not to care that he has nothing to say about her friends when her smile just drops. It happens very quickly but he can clearly see how Alina scrolls through a picture that depicts her and a man when her smile and her whole demeanor change. As if now all her skies were surrounded by grey clouds.

"We still have a couple of trips, c'mon." She says, voice showing nothing and, at the same time, revealing everything.

He has never seen her like this as if all the joy has been sucked out of her face. She's usually happy, polite, and kind; he has seen her ashamed and embarrassed but he has never seen her like she was in that brief moment when the picture with the unknown man appeared on her phone. He distracts her with another question about her job and he listens intently because if Alina is there he's not able to pay attention to anything else.

But when he leaves the store, with Mila's little hand in his and a bouquet in his other he cannot help but ask himself who this man is and why he left such a bitter taste in his mouth.

vi.

He's not surprised by the meeting Mila's teacher had arranged. He's not surprised by what's discussed in it. He's not surprised by any of it —well, maybe he's surprised it took them two months to actually call him, he kind of expected them to meet with him before May arrived— because he knew Mila was having a hard time opening up and therefore, she was having trouble connecting with her peers. He also knew his daughter was happy to be at school, and that despite everything she's brilliant, kind, and caring, she was just grieving. Like he was.

What he is surprised by is how tired he is. Because he is exhausted. Which should be the only thing that shouldn't surprise him. Being a single working parent was not easy, and that was an understatement. The only thing keeping him from not falling apart was his friends and family, people he didn't feel like he deserved right now when his walls were up and everyone but Mila was kept at an arm's length.

Anyways, he's exhausted.

Maybe that's exactly why, without even thinking, he ends up walking to Alina's store after the meeting with the teacher. He's not even aware of what his body is doing until he's in front of her, being the recipient of one of her beautiful smiles.

"Good afternoon Aleksander!" She greets him, a hint of blush in her cheeks. He should not feel a sense of pride in knowing he's the cause of that blush. He shouldn't even be there, for crying out loud! "Can I do something for you?" She asks and that's when he realizes two things; he needs to speak and he needs a reason to be there. He doesn't blush but just barely. Small victories and such.

"Good afternoon, Miss Starkov." He can see the small pout in her face, an almost imperceptible gesture but he knew where to look, he knew she wanted to be addressed by her name. But he also knew that would be too much for his blackened heart. "I'm sorry, it's been a day. I just… I guess I just wanted to be surrounded by beautiful things."

I wanted to see your face, I wanted you to smile for me and part the grey clouds that follow me, he thinks, but doesn't say.

If she's aware of his internal monologue, she doesn't mention it. Instead, she nods in understanding. "I'm sorry about your day." She says, and he knows she means it, he can see the way there's understanding in her eyes. "Feel free to walk around then, let me know if you need anything else." She says, giving him free rein to look around the store, while she turns her attention to the arrangements in hand.

He walks through the store, for how long he doesn't know, he's just happy to look around. Observing as if he were in a museum and each flower was a masterpiece. Although he admits that none of Alina's samples is a rival to her. She's the most beautiful flower in the store.

"I can guess the answer, but do you have a favorite flower?" Suddenly she's right by his side, looking at him through her eyelashes. And as he looks at her he realizes there's only one answer to her question.

"Sunflowers."

That morning his answer would've been a lie because that morning he didn't have a favorite flower. But right now, looking at her he realizes there's no other answer, what other flower could he like when he was a sunflower and Alina was his sun?

He'll compare her to flowers, to the sun, and yet, he'll never be able to find a comparison that makes her justice. So he'll try.

She smiles at his answer, but her eyes show how taken aback she is, not only by the fact that he seems to have an answer when she obviously expected him not to, but he knows her surprise stems also from the conviction in his voice. And he has to be honest, he is also surprised by that.

"Would you like to take one home?" She asks, gesturing to where said flowers are, and he knows she's not trying to sell him something, she's trying to offer him some comfort to help with his day. That's why he nods and ends up buying a dozen.

When he gets home he puts them on his nightstand, even if Mila gets mad at her him for only giving her one. Mila doesn't understand Aleksander is just trying to have some light into his life. His daughter also doesn't understand that her father has just come to the realization that he might actually like Alina.

He's past thinking that she's beautiful because she is, but she's also kind, funny, and smart. Aleksander lets himself think about something he has absolutely forbidden himself from thinking; because he thinks he might like her, he might be attracted to her. And that scares the living shit out of him.

vii.

May 28th appears on the calendar sooner than he'd like and he's not prepared, not in the slightest.

Last year they were in the Wandering Isle and they were still too deep in their grief to do something about it. Back then Luda's birthday, just four months after her premature death, felt like just another cut in the middle of the biggest pain he ever felt in his life. But now, even if it still hurts and the pain is still there, he knows he has to face it. Head on. This time he cannot stay in bed with his daughter, alternating between her tears, him consoling her, and drinking whiskey. This time he has to come to terms that May 28th exists and for the rest of his life, he's going to have to deal with it.

This year Mila wants to bring Luda flowers, which meant that, for the first time since the burial, they were going to visit her grave and he hates it. The idea of Luda, his amazing wife, resting six feet underground makes him want to vomit. She shouldn't be there, she should be alive. They had plans, they had a life to live. And yet…

That was a thing of the past. Plans were not set in stone, plans changed, plans could be modified and in this case, life had forced him to do just that. Now he planned to make Mila happy. Luda would've wanted both of them to be happy, but their daughter's happiness was more important. He was too broken to be able to achieve happiness.

But Mila still had years of her life ahead of her and he was going to make sure his daughter grew up healthy, kind, and happy.

He looks at her, asleep in his bed because she refused to do it on her own. His little girl is fast asleep, hugging the teddy bear he had commissioned to be made out of Luda's favorite shirt, so that Mila could, in a heartbreaking way, hug her mom every night. He chokes back a sob and comes closer to kiss her on the forehead. As she stirs he thinks of how much she looks like Luda. Her hair, her nose, and her ears, but also her shyness, her soft-spokenness, her sweetness. All Luda.

The most bittersweet part of it all is that he has Mila, because he doesn't like that she has to grow up without a mother. He doesn't like that she will never be able to go to Luda for hugs, advice, or simple company. He hates the idea that his daughter might never know how much her mother loved her. But, sometimes he thinks about how having Mila is a blessing for him because he has something of Luda to hold onto. In a way, he gets to see Luda every day, and he's thankful for that.

"Your mama loved you very much, zolotse. Please know that." He murmurs, giving her another kiss before going downstairs and preparing himself a drink.

As Aleksander watches the kitchen clock announce that it is officially Luda's birthday he takes a sip of his whiskey and sighs. In the morning they'll go to her grave and spend the day together, doing whatever Mila wants to do to celebrate, but right now Aleksander is going to do what he needs to do, something he should've done a long time ago.

Grabbing his glass —and not the bottle, despite how tempting that is— he goes upstairs back again, this time to the guest room.

They rarely used the room, and after he left Ravka, Genya did good on her offer and transferred Luda's belongings there, which meant that, ever since he came back, the room had been closed and no one had stepped foot on it. Well, tonight was the night that changed.

He walks towards the boxes, right at the end of the room, and sits on the floor in front of them. There's no note, no mark to indicate what the boxes contain because there's no need for that, he knows these boxes contain the last remains of Luda, all the material possessions she left behind. Could these boxes contain the life of a person? A life well-lived, full of happiness, dreams, and desires? No, it would be impossible and yet, there they were.

"Happy Birthday, lyubimaya." He whispers, putting his hand on the side of the box, letting himself have a moment before actually opening it. "I wish you were here."

He opens the box slowly, taking his time to take everything out. Her scrubs, her dresses, her pj's, her casual clothes. He's careful with everything, he knows that it shouldn't matter because she's not there to say anything, but it matters precisely because of it. He wasn't going to disrespect his wife just because she wasn't there.

He takes out her magazines, the ones he used to make fun of because they were trash but Luda enjoyed them thoroughly. He takes out her shoes and her duck-themed raincoat, the one that made him laugh every time. He takes out her necklaces, from trinkets bought in thrift shops to expensive jewelry he gifted her; sometimes for anniversaries or birthdays, other times just because he so desired.

He takes out everything, letting himself cry all he wants because he's tired of keeping it all in. He cries because he misses her. He cries because of the things her stuff makes him remember. He cries when he cannot remember as well. He cries because of her.

He's almost done with the boxes, only one remaining. He's wondering what else could be in there when he comes face to face with her wedding dress. The air gets knocked out of his lungs immediately. He wasn't expecting it, but even as the tears continue to fall down his face, he feels a faint smile form on his lips.

"You looked beautiful in this dress." He says at the same time he starts taking it out of the box. He uses a hanger to be able to get a full view of it before he sits on the floor, eyes never leaving the gown.

Aleksander had always loved that dress. It was perfect for Luda. It was classic, simple, and elegant. He had cried when he saw her walking towards him wearing it. He had cried because he never thought he could look more beautiful than she looked at that moment. She later proved him wrong, of course, because she looked even more beautiful the first time she held Mila in her hands, but that was another thing.

For so long he had avoided things related to his late wife because he thought that if he did it would mean he would have to say goodbye. But as he sits on the floor surrounded with things that she wore, that she bought, that she was gifted, that she loved… Aleksander realizes that she's long gone. The clothes no longer smell like her, the magazines are no longer a cause of jokes around the house, the jewelry will no longer make her smile in surprise, the shoes won't make them turn the house upside down as they look to find a pair.

Luda's gone.

He looks at his wedding ring, still on his finger despite the passage of time. He wears it because it felt like the right thing to do because even if Luda no longer walked the Earth he was still married, he was still connected to her, he hadn't let her go. When a certain florist plagued his thoughts, he felt like it was cheating because he was still attached to Luda, devoted to her just as he had been since he met her.

But he wasn't actually cheating, was it? The ring on his finger no longer stood for marriage. It stood for love, there was no denying that, but there was no marriage to honor anymore.

With shaky hands, he takes the ring off his finger and looks at it. A simple gold band to signify his love and devotion to a woman who now rested six feet underground. A simple golden band to make him understand that it was okay to live his life fully, that he wasn't cheating, that he shouldn't feel guilty. A simple golden band to make him say goodbye to the woman he thought he'd grow old with.

"I hope that you know that I loved you, that I still do, that I always will. I would hold on to you forever but I can't. Please forgive me." He kisses the ring and cleans his tear-stained cheeks before getting to work.

He puts his wedding ring with the rest of Luda's jewelry. He's going to keep those for Mila, to give to her once she's older. He's also going to keep her wedding dress and the raincoat; the former for Mila, in case she ever wants to get married and use her mother's dress or something like that, the latter for himself, because it's always going to put a smile on his face. The rest of her stuff has to go, he can no longer live with her ghost around the house. The memories he will keep, but he will set himself free of the weight, of the guilt, of the sadness that has accompanied him since she died.

He finishes his drink and starts to put everything back on the boxes, during the week he'll find time to take them to goodwill so that someone can put them to good use. Hopefully, someone can make new memories with what Luda left behind.

He takes special care with her wedding dress and the jewelry; hopeful that Mila will appreciate them once he shares them with her. A little excited about the idea of sharing it with his daughter and telling her that her mom loved her.

Tomorrow won't be easier because of this, he mulls as he starts to take the boxes downstairs, one by one. Tomorrow won't be easy and that will be alright because he's not expecting it to be easy the day after that. He's not even expecting that a year from now everything will be fine. He suffered an immense loss, one he couldn't have seen coming, and he was rebuilding himself from the ashes. He knew it would take time, and he was okay with it. He just wasn't okay with what he had been doing by now.

Once he deposits the final box downstairs he decides to walk around the house. Even if it hurt living there in a world where Luda no longer existed, he never wanted to let go of the place. The thought had crossed his mind several times but he wanted Mila to grow up in this house, that's why they had bought it in the first place because they wanted to raise their family there.

He walks around, standing on the same spot where Luda told him she was pregnant, looking at the places where they had their biggest fights, smiling at the same space where Mila took his first steps, making Luda cry. He sits on the couch, where many times they collapsed during their daughter's first year of life, exhausted but so happy they could barely contain themselves. He goes outside, where they used to celebrate birthdays and anniversaries.

Aleksander stays there and looks at the sky. He wasn't a religious person, Luda wasn't either but he hoped that whenever she was she had all the peace she had taken with her. She deserved that, even if the rest of his life was a little harder because of it.

When he goes back inside he goes to retrieve the box he assembled for Mila and puts it in his closet. His little girl is still fast asleep and, even if he knows there's just no way he's going to sleep now, he still goes through the motions of brushing his teeth and putting on something more comfortable before laying down next to her.

Milyena, his beautiful daughter.

As he watches her sleep he remembers when he and Luda were brainstorming names, or rather, she was coming with several options and he only had one: Milyena. She opposed, claiming that it would be unfair to the other kids they might have because Milyena meant 'favored one' and Luda didn't want anyone to feel like there was favoritism going around. In the end, once they were in the hospital and she held their newborn daughter for the first time, she looked at her, a small squirmy thing that barely made a noise, and then she looked at Aleksander and announced their baby's name was Milyena.

Aleksander thinks how fitting it is, that she's his favorite. She will always be.

He kisses her once again before curling up around her, as if he was protecting her, even in her sleep. He might not be able to spare her from the pain she'll feel tomorrow when they reach the grave and she realizes that it's just that, a grave. That Luda might be buried there but she isn't there. Not really.

He might not be able to protect her from that, but he will still try, for the rest of his life.

viii.

Genya had said Luda's story was his to tell, if and when he wanted to. And the truth is that he doesn't want to do this. He doesn't like that there's a story he needs to tell. But he knows he has to tell it.

He would love nothing more than to have met Alina in another lifetime, in a different reality, where he could be with her without all the weight he has to carry around, without all the guilt that has been consuming him for this long. He would love nothing more than to be able to pursue her without his past weighing heavy on his broken heart. But even if he didn't want to pursue her, he would've liked to be able to bond with her, to be her friend without having to burden her with his trauma.

But alas, this was the hand he was dealt so he had to live with it.

On Friday night he orders a bunch of piroshkis food for them, and as he does that he chuckles because it seems as if every time he has to explain himself to her he gives her food. But he hopes that will help with things because what he has to tell her it's not easy, so his hope is that food helps keep things light or at least distract them from everything.

When he asks her to join him, her surprise is evident but luckily she doesn't reject the offer and follows him. Aleksander knows he should be doing something to make her feel comfortable, thinking that maybe her silence comes from awkwardness but he really needs his head in the right place, he needs to come to terms with why he asked her to join him. And if maybe he clings to his whiskey glass then that's because he's scared and he hates that he has to do this. But he marches, head-on with a certain level of determination.

"Her name was Luda."

When she tells him he doesn't have to, he doesn't listen to her because he has to, he needs to get this off his chest. She needs to understand that the person she met it's not the person he used to be and that's because of Luda's death.

Understanding floods her eyes and he can see very clearly how she's sad about what she's hearing. It's not pity what's reflecting in her eyes, she's not being condescending. She's not looking at him as if he was just a poor widower. He knows she's just a compassionate person, he saw it in her eyes when they went to the flower shop on Sunday, even before he decided to explain, even before she even knew what was going on, Alina had decided to show compassion towards him and Mila.

It's only once her hand rests against his own that he stops clutching his drink so harshly. It might be a small gesture to comfort him, but Aleksander can't remember the last time someone did that for him and even if he had, this feels life-altering. Mila holds his hand all the time, he's used to the feel of his daughter's tiny fingers against his own palm but this isn't the same. This is Alina, sweet Alina who's hearing him, letting him be incredibly raw right now. She's not judging him, she's not coddling him, she's just listening at the same time she holds his hand with so much care he feels like she might as well be holding his heart.

Aleksander hates himself because while he's telling her about his dead wife a part of him is thinking that her hand is perfect against his own.

When she starts to caress his knuckles he has to keep himself steady because the gesture actually feels like heaven. He knows he's been alone all this time, but it isn't until she does that when he realizes that he doesn't want to be lonely. Even if he's the one who got himself into that situation in the first place, keeping people at bay and not making an actual effort to connect with others, even with his own friends. But it's not until right now, with Alina holding his hand, that Aleksander admits to himself he just wants to be held. He devoted himself to his daughter because that was the right thing to do. Mila needed him more than ever. He just couldn't see, in the middle of the most hardcore tunnel vision of his life, that Mila needs him to be happy too.

And then Alina asks one simple question; "But who's showing kindness to you, Aleksander?"

Luda was the source of kindness in his life. His mother never cared much for him and growing up he didn't have a family. At college, he found Genya, Ivan, and Fedyor. During his early years as a tattoo artist, he found Zoya, Nina, and Mattias. Then came David, and later, Marie. He made the family he wished he had as a child, he found these people all on his own. They were covered in tattoos and had problems of their own but it never mattered because they were loyal and caring, the bonds between them were unbreakable. They were his family and he loved them, even if he had a hard time connecting with them lately, he loved them.

His friends and family were many things, but at the end of the day, the one who showed him kindness was Luda. So he lets her know that if only a little bitter because of the reminder of what he lost.

When Alina tells him her story he's not expecting that, he really is taken aback by what she's describing. Never in a million years, he could've imagined that Alina had experienced something similar to what his daughter was going through. Briefly, he wonders if this is why she's able to connect with Mila, because of a shared painful moment. But that doesn't make sense, Alina didn't know what happened with Luda until now and even if she had, he thinks it wouldn't have made much difference. She liked Mila and showed her kindness because of it. It was as simple as that.

But still, Aleksander feels awful for putting her through this for making her relieve painful memories that must be a thing of the past. His feelings are only magnified when taking into consideration she's avoiding his eyes, instead, she's focusing on their joined hands. But as he hears her, he realizes she doesn't sound sad about what she's telling him, if anything she sounds like she's trying to make a point to him; the importance of kindness.

When she looks up at him, he doesn't see her in a different light. She's still the same Alina, who keeps her head high and her chin up even if she's feeling embarrassed. She's the same person that jokes with his staff and doesn't even blink at their crude comments. She's the same person he's been growing attracted to. This is just another part of her, a part who made her who she is but it doesn't change who she is right now. She's the person he wants to hold hands with.

Her subtle admission doesn't go unnoticed, but this isn't really the time to say anything about it. Although that doesn't keep him from experiencing a little rush, a small speck of happiness because Alina might feel something for him. It's because of that feeling, that he decides nothing is stopping him from holding hands with her. So he decides to open his palm and intertwine his fingers with hers.

"Thank you for your kindness towards me, Miss Starkov." There's so much he wants to tell her but he settles with genuine and heartfelt gratitude. It might not be grandiose, but it is real, and that's what Alina deserves above all.

They start to eat in relative silence but soon he finds himself asking her about her week. Alina, however, doesn't bother telling him things about the shop, instead, she seems to take this opportunity to tell her about the week she spent in Keramzin. He had noticed her absence but because it was the week before Luda's birthday, he had barely even processed it.

"It's nice to go back. There are many reasons for that but I think the best one is that I ate a home-cooked meal. It's been a while." She says and Aleksander gestures for her to pick more piroshki, which she gladly does. "Thanks, these are amazing, by the way. But anyway, I enjoyed taking some time away from the flower shop. It's been a while since I had a vacation, and..."

As he listens to her, Aleksander wonders if Alina can bring him peace. If maybe he can find that with her, the thing that he so desperately pursued for the first decades of his life. But as she lights up as she continues to eat and eat he realizes he's okay if she can't ever bring him peace, because Alina can help bring other things to his life, like joy and sunshine. It would be selfish to expect her to bring him peace, it just wouldn't be right. He needs to learn how to find that within himself. He needs to be able to do that for himself and not expect it from anyone else.

He will find peace within himself, slowly, little by little. He will do that all by himself.

What Aleksander cannot do, not even if he tried, is light up his own life. But that was something Alina could easily do, she'd been doing it since they met. In small ways, in simple and subtle ways she had always brought him joy. Almost ephemeral, because he refused to let himself get closer to her, but that didn't deter her. She had always been kind to him, even if he himself wasn't completely sure he deserved that.

The truth is that Aleksander couldn't brighten his own life. Not without help, not without others. And even if he could, he realized that he just didn't want that. Why would he settle for a life without sunshine when he knew how Alina would light up? Even if they always remained neighbors, or became friends. Even if nothing romantic happened between them, Aleksander craved her presence, the way he felt around her when he wasn't worried about keeping her at bay. He felt lighter somehow, he felt content.

He enjoys her presence far more than he allowed himself to admit but now he can admit it, it's okay. He deserves happiness, actual happiness, not the fleeting joy that has kept him afloat for a year. And if Alina is the one who makes him happy then so be it.

As he walks with her and goes through the motions of closing the store and giving her the treats for Sol, Aleksander thinks that, despite the way it started, he wants the night to last forever but he understands that's just him being greedy.

But he's not the only one who's greedy because Alina does something unexpected and kisses him on the cheek and he feels like she has taken the floor from under him and he's freefalling. It's such a simple and intimate gesture and, just like when they were holding hands, he thinks that this is heaven and he wants that.

It would be so easy, just a simple turn of his head and her lips would be right there. He could be kissing her right now, but even if he wants to, Aleksander has enough common sense in his system to stop himself. If he's going to let himself have this he's going to do it right, he's not going to self sabotage something before it even starts, no. It doesn't matter if she looks gorgeous by the moonlight or the way she looks at him through her eyelashes after the kiss.

His desire's too obvious to continue to deny it, but as he watches her walk away and get in her car he admits to himself that it's okay if he likes her, it's okay if he wants her. Because the truth is that he wants Alina and that no longer scares him. The idea of actually pursuing a romantic relationship with her begins to bloom in his head and his heart.

ix.

A week after Alina brings her flowers to the parlor, she knocks on his door. It's a Friday night, he's working late and Mila is fast asleep on the couch in his office, his coat acting as a blanket to keep her warm. He suspects that it's just Marie wanting to say goodbye, but when he opens his door and sees Alina he immediately smiles at her.

"Hi! Marie was leaving and she let me in. Is that okay?" She says and he nods, letting her enter his office with Sol in tow. As she steps inside, her eyes quickly find his daughter. The fondness in them is undeniable. "Oh, I'm sorry I can come back another day…"

"It's okay Miss Starkov. She's not going to wake up. Please have a seat." He motions to the empty chair in front of his desk and he takes the one next to it. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

She's still looking at Mila, her smile big and bright and eyes full of tenderness for his daughter. But when he asks she looks back at him and goes searching for something in her purse. "When I went to Keramzin I bought Mila a doll and I've been meaning to tell you since then, but I keep forgetting." She explains, pulling the doll out and offering it to him. He inspects it, thinking that it is a beautiful work of art, probably the work of some local artisan. Mila would love it very much. "I wanted to ask you first if it was okay, I wouldn't want to give it to her without your approval."

"There's no need for my approval, Miss Starkov. It's a gift, one that Mila would love. You should be the one to give it to her." He says, trying not to think about how Alina, back in her hometown, thinking about his daughter because that would be too much for him. He's already in too deep.

"I just didn't want to impose." She explains, taking the doll when he gives it back to her. "I have one like this one. I mean, it's much older and not as pretty, but I still have it at my house and I thought… You know, I thought, what little girl wouldn't want a beautiful doll?" Her eyes leave the doll and fly back to his daughter, still curled up on the couch. Sol has found her seat on the floor in front of her as if she was trying to protect Mila, even when she was asleep.

He gets up and grabs two beers from his mini-fridge, opening them before handing one to her; "Here, as a thank you for your gift to Mila." He says once she puts the doll inside her purse and grabs the drink.

"Thanks." She says before taking a sip. She's still looking at Mila, her eyes not leaving her even as he thanks him, which prompts his question;

"Have you ever thought about having kids?" A month ago he wouldn't have even dreamed about asking her that question. It was too personal and they were only just polite neighbors back then. But now she knows about Luda, he knows about her parents and he thinks that she might also be a friend —but nothing more than that, of course— instead of just being her neighbor next door.

"I mean, yes?" It comes out as a question and she scrunches up her nose, something he finds completely adorable. "I guess I thought about it but not too seriously. Mal used to think about it more than I did." She says, chuckling at her words. It's not until a second has passed that she realizes what she's actually said and the same expression that appeared on her face when she saw the photo of her and an unknown male on her phone.

Ah, finally, he has some sort of answer.

"Mal?" Aleksander asks, taking a sip of his drink. His tone is casual enough, not revealing his eagerness for the full answer but also being careful so that she doesn't feel pressured.

"He's my ex…" She closes her eyes and sighs as if the whole thing was exhausting just to even think about it. He's about to tell her she doesn't have to —almost mirroring what she did when he told her about Luda— when she opens her eyes. She doesn't look at him but at the ceiling. "I often debate as to how to answer that because he is my ex-boyfriend but I feel like it's more accurate to say that he's my ex-fiance. Even if I didn't say yes. I don't know, it's complicated."

"Is it?" He can't help but ask, sue him, he's intrigued. Someone wanted to marry her and she didn't accept the proposal. He wasn't expecting that.

She laughs, a little louder than she intends to and both pairs of eyes look at Mila, who's still dreaming.

"Sorry." She says, looking at him while she bites her lip. "The thing is that Mal proposed and I knew what he wanted, a wife, yes, but that's it. He didn't care about my dreams and desires. The store was doing well, so well that I was looking to expand and he pretended that once he put a ring on my finger I would just leave it all behind to cook him dinner and cling to his arm. As if my lifelong dream was to become Mrs. Oretsev. As if I would just give up my name or my life, for that matter."

Aleksander drinks his beer, using it as a way to hide his features because all he can think when she explains is that the guy is an idiot who didn't deserve Alina. He's glad she got out of that relationship.

"Even if that was different…" She looks at her bottle and shrugs, before continuing. "I don't think I would've said yes. It's not like he was violent or abusive, overall he was a nice guy." She says, and Aleksander thinks that for anyone else that would be a compliment, but Alina was kind, gentle, and sweet. She was able to come up with the best of people and therefore say better things about anyone.

On her lips, nice was as good as any insult.

"But I felt like he didn't get me, you know?" She shrugs as if it was nothing. "Like he didn't listen to me or actually understood me. Hence, why when I said no he was surprised." She laughs again, in a lower register this time, and he can't help but join in.

But his laugh is because her's is infectious not because he thinks the story is funny.

He doesn't like the idea of Alina being wasted on someone who would expect her to drop her hopes and dreams. Had this boy not seen the fruits of her labor? Had he not seen her happiness every day while working? Had he not realized he had someone wonderful by his side?

Alas, Aleksander asks himself those questions but cares very little about the answers because Alina is now there in front of him, hanging out with him and he thinks that maybe he's thankful for this Mal person. If it weren't for him and his stupidity he probably had never met Alina.

"You're better off without him." He finally says, now realizing she had just explained everything to him willingly, without him coaxing her.

"I am." She says and he realizes she means that; the confidence in her voice is more than enough proof. But the smile she flashes his way is welcomed, nonetheless. "Sorry, I guess I didn't really answer your question." Aleksander shakes his head, she had given him more information than he expected.

"No need to apologize, Miss Starkov. I'm prying."

"Oh no. I don't mind." She says, making a gesture to Sol who immediately drops next to Alina, happy to receive pets. "Did you always want to have kids?"

"My answer is similar to yours. I had plans and dreams to achieve and I didn't think much of it until I met Luda." He says and it hurts to say her name, to remember everything related to his journey to fatherhood, and yet it's becoming more bearable now. One day at a time and all. "It was the best decision I ever made."

Alina smiles at his words but she doesn't look at him, her eyes are still on Mila and Aleksander allows himself to wonder if maybe there's a future for them, where they can be together, the two of them with Mila and Sol.

They stay in silence, finishing their beers. He likes that with her, the silence has always been comfortable, sometimes charged, but always pleasant. He likes that there's no urgent feeling about starting to talk. They are just two people enjoying each other's company. Well, now he can say that they are just two friends getting to know each other.

A couple of minutes after he takes the empty beers and tosses them in the trash that she says; "I should leave, it's getting late."

"Yeah, we should too." He comments, rounding his table so that he can close his laptop and put it in his briefcase. He's about to deal with it and with Mila in his other arm, hating the idea of waking her up when they get to the car when Alina extends her hand.

"I can take that so that you'll be more comfortable with her." She says, offering her help easily as if she hadn't done the mental math of what it means to deal with a sleeping child. He gives it to her without hesitation, noting that she already had Sol on her leash.

He crouches in front of where Mila is asleep, removing his coat and putting it on before he grabs his daughter with practiced ease. She only stirs a little, but once she's secured in his arms, all it takes is a couple of strokes on her hair and a kiss on her temple before she goes back to sleep.

"Thank you. This would've been a nightmare without the help." He says, once he's gone through all the trouble of turning the lights off and he's in the middle of locking the door. Luckily, it's a task he can do one-handed.

"I don't have the heart to let you wake her up. She looks so peaceful… I'd be a crime to not let her sleep." Alina says, accompanying them to his car.

She watches him as he secures Mila in her seat before handing him his briefcase. There's something in her eyes, he realizes. Alina has never tried to hide how much she cares about Mila but the look in her eyes it's different now. However, before he can dive deep into the meaning of what he's seeing, she blinks and it's gone.

"I'll give Mila her doll tomorrow."

"Thank you again for that. She will love it. And thank you again for your help, Miss Starkov." He closes the back door and smiles at her. "Please drive safely."

"You too, goodnight Aleksander." She says waving at him before walking to her car.

He stands there, waiting for her to start her car and drive to her place. Only once he's lost sight of her is that he realizes he wouldn't mind going home with her.

x.

Next Saturday he's having breakfast with his friends when he decides to come clean to them.

Aleksander started attending the Saturday breakfast ever since he decided to make an effort to get his life back. And much to his pleasure, his friends had welcomed him back without batting an eye, no judgment, no questions asked. They didn't even pressure him, they simply showed the same unwavering support they always had. It's still awkward for him, even if they are nothing but excellent friends, it's strange to remember that there were so many bonds he shared with his people.

That's why, even if he's happy to have his friends back, it's still hard for him to open up to them. He does it anyway, longing for a time when it's no longer like this.

"So, I have something to say and when I say it I would like to kindly remind you that I am your boss. I'm talking about you, Nina and Zoya." He says, pointedly looking at the two women, who are not even bothering with surprised looks. "I would like to…" He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, fighting the urge to shut up and say nothing because it's embarrassing. He feels like a teenager sharing crush stories with his friends, which makes everything worse because he didn't even behave like that when he was younger. "I need your advice because I would like to pursue Alina, romantically."

No one talks for a hot minute and Aleksander is just wondering if he should just leave the fucking country again when Zoya breaks the silence.

"Oh finally! Thank the Saints." She says as if it was a big deal for her. "If I had to go through another encounter of you trying to pretend like you don't like her while she's looking all hot and cute I was going to ask her out myself."

"You were?" Nina asks and Aleksander knows that tone. She's just trying to incite chaos.

"Are you kidding me? Have you seen her? She's cute, she's hot, she's friendly and she's clearly into him. That last part doesn't matter, because I would've asked her out anyways." Zoya says, looking at Aleksander as if she thinks he's an idiot. He would be offended but that's just how she looks at him most of the time.

"Didn't I tell you two to behave?" He asks, exasperated. He's even using the same voice he uses when Mila doesn't listen to him. It doesn't matter, he expected this from them, there are pressing matters to attend; "Also, did everyone know? Genya, did you tell them?"

Before Nina can even begin to reply, probably saying something rude or mocking Aleksander, Matthias decides to intervene. Probably for the best. "Genya didn't tell us anything, boss, it was pretty obvious."

Great. An almost forty-year-old man, behaving like a teenager with a crush. Just spectacular.

"Papa are you okay?" His face must be something else because Mila comes closer and pats his thigh, making Aleksander smile at his daughter's worry.

"Yes zolotse, I am fine. Aunt Nina and aunt Zoya are just being mean." He says and she makes him bend so that she can kiss his cheek. "Everything is better now, why don't you continue to play with your new doll?" Alina had dropped by earlier to give her the gift and Mila's excitement had gone through the roof. He watches her go back to her doll, sitting on the floor and not having a care in the world because of her gift. "If you keep messing with me, my little bodyguard is going to be mad."

"Then let's make sure that doesn't happen." Says Genya, throwing a stink eye towards Nina and Zoya. "We should be celebrating this moment, it's finally happening and he needs our help. Stop ruining this."

He hasn't gone on a date since he met Luda, more than a decade ago. To say that he needs help it's an understatement, he's actually hopeless. It makes him feel self-conscious, because even if he knows widowers date, single fathers date, and people close and over forty go on dates; he's all three and he can't help but think that that is the worst combination ever.

He's never had problems with who he is. If anything, Luda would argue that he was a little too confident which led him to be smug. He had good looks, he was smart, he was talented, he was charismatic… and although all those things are still true, he's also not who he once was. It's not like he feels sorry for himself, but it does lead him to question if Alina has really given it a thought about the baggage he comes with.

Good looks and charm can only take him so far, he'd understand if she doesn't want to deal with his burden.

But Aleksander doesn't get to continue his spiral, because Matthias speaks; "Her birthday is coming up, you could do something then. We're going out for drinks." He explains, but when Genya interjects to say that it falls on Wednesday, he knows he won't be able to attend because of a business dinner that was previously scheduled.

That seems to send everyone in a frenzy, trying to come up with ideas to help him, although that just seems code for shooting down every idea he seems to have.

His first idea is to take her to a restaurant, the same one he booked for them as a way of thank you but Nina objects to that.

"Boss, that would make her think that you see her as a friend. It's the place you booked for us, who very much are your friends. It's going to send her the wrong message." And he has to agree, but the idea of taking her to a bar is something he doesn't like that much.

"What if she thinks I'm coming on too strong? What if she thinks I'm just looking to get her drunk or something like that?" He asks, not saying that he feels old to be taking her to a bar.

It's Marie, a shy Marie who still sometimes has a hard time speaking in front of him, who gives him the idea; "You could invite her to your house and have dinner there."

Everybody seems to think that's a wonderful idea but Aleksander doesn't understand. If he thought that he would be coming on too strong while taking her to a bar, wouldn't she feel the same if he invited her to his home? Isn't that too much?

"It's a perfect yet simple plan. You can cook or even order something if you don't feel like it." Says Marie, clearly feeling emboldened by the way everyone likes her suggestion.

"But isn't it a bad idea? To show her my house on the first date?" He feels stupid with everything that's happening. He knows his friends are trying to help him, but he feels so out of place, he shouldn't be stressing over where to take someone on a date. Hell, he shouldn't even be dating!

But when Aleksander looks at his staff, at his people, at the friends who are trying so desperately to help him, he realizes this is okay, it's okay to let his walls down.

"Marie is right, it's perfect but simple. Anyone can take her to a restaurant, you are showing her your personal space. It shows that you are interested but it also leaves it to her if she actually wants to do something about it." Genya says and he nods, it makes sense what he's listening to because, at the end of the day, he's not looking forward to forcing Alina into anything. It can be just a friendly dinner if she wants to.

"It'll also be a good thing for her to look at you in another context while also allowing you to be relaxed in your own space." Says Zoya, surprisingly showing her vulnerable side.

He remembers that Alina told him that previous Friday, how much she loved a home-cooked meal. He could do that for her, a good plate of pasta to make her happy. It was in honor of her birthday and she deserved that and more.

"And you know, if things get heated you don't have to worry about…" Nina starts to say, suggestively. But Aleksander has had enough.

"No. That's it, this conversation is over." He says, standing up from his chair and going to pick up Mila and her doll, who just laughs at suddenly being lifted. He's on his way to his office when he stops to look at them. "Thank you, this meant a lot to me."

It might not be easy to repair the bridges that were damaged by the year away and the months of almost no connection. But as Aleksander sees the faces of his friends, he realizes that it's worth it.

However, he still needs to inquire about the opinion of his favorite person in the whole world.

"Mila?" He asks once they are in his office, sitting in front of each other on his couch.

"Papa?" She imitates him, not only in tone but also mimicking his facial expression. She was just too cute.

"I need to talk to you about something, okay? Can you please leave your doll and look at me? This is important." She nods and does as he says, leaving the doll on the coffee table before sitting in his lap. When he looks at her, he realizes that her lower lip is trembling and that she looks sad, something that wasn't there a second ago.

"Is everything okay papa?" She asks, voice breaking, and that's when he realizes that the last time he had a serious talk with her was when he told her what happened to Luda. He hugs her immediately, she clings to his chest and he can feel a couple of tears stain his shirt.

They were healing, but some scars run deeper than the eye could see.

"Yes, zolotse. Forgive me, I scared you. Everything is fine, I promise." He pats her head before he starts to run his fingers through her hair. He lets her take a moment to calm down all while he feels awful for unknowingly putting her in this situation. "Hey, look at me, Mila." He asks, cupping her face so that he can see her. He gently starts to wipe the tears out of her cheeks before kissing her forehead. "Are you happy? Are you okay?"

She nods while using her arms to mimic him, patting his beard. "I am happy. Are you happy, papa?"

How on Earth did he end up with the sweetest daughter?

"I wasn't for a while. I missed mama too much and it hurt, you know? But I am happy now Mila, I promise you." He says and Mila nods, hands still on his face, not letting him go. "What I wanted to talk about was about something that makes me happy. Do you like Alina?"

The way Mila's smile grows in her face it's a sight to behold.

"Of course papa, she's my friend! She gave me a doll and she let me pet Sol and look at the flowers and she's pretty and she's nice." Once she starts to list things Aleksander chuckles, realizing it's impossible to not like Alina.

"I would like to be friends with Alina, zolotse. Would that be okay with you?"

"She was my friend first, papa!" She announces, showing her possessiveness. He can't even be mad about it because he knows she got that from him. However, she does meditate on his question for a second, before answering; "But okay. You can be friends with her too, I think she'd like that."

"I'd like that too because she makes me happy just like you make me happy." He tells her, before securing her against his chest and standing up from the couch. "Alina's birthday is coming up and I think we need to find her a gift since she's our friend. Don't you think so?"

Mila squeals at the mention of a birthday and nods as he sits down and opens his laptop. "A book papa, let's get her a book! Like mine!" She all but orders and Aleksander nods, a book for Alina's birthday it is.

xi.

The house is clean, Mila is with David and Genya, the pasta is cooking. Everything is ready.

Even he was ready, well, barely. He was hanging in there. It was exciting to finally be able to have a real date with her. And although, this is what he wanted that also made the whole thing nerve-wracking. It was odd, to feel his heart beating in his chest with excitement when, for the longest time, it's barely beaten, doing the bare minimum to keep him alive.

When he remembers the way she reacted when he congratulated her on her birthday, using her name for the first time in front of her or when he remembers the eager 'yes' she uttered when he extended the invitation, he thinks this is going to be alright. More than alright.

The doorbell rings and he gives himself a hot second to take a deep breath, which proves to be necessary because, when he opens the door and sees her there, on his front porch wearing a beautiful black dress he can feel his heart wanting to burst out of his chest.

He thinks she looks beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, and yet, none of these words feel right. There are no words to truly describe how she looks. Aleksander has always thought she was beautiful, with her colorful aprons, her hair on a braid, and minimal makeup. And right now he thinks she looks otherworldly not only because it's Alina wearing his favorite color but because he can't help but feel flattered that she took time to look like this for their date.

That means that, obviously, his first comment towards her is not about how she looks but about the GPS, because he's a certified idiot. He's about to berate himself when she explains that she didn't realize his invitation was to his house and he feels the exact second his stomach drops. Was she expecting something better? Was she disappointed? Had he completely ruined everything? His poker face doesn't betray him as he speaks, thankfully, but he feels awful. So much trying to do things right to fuck up.

But then, when she clarifies he wants to laugh. To how many conclusions has he jumped in a second? The answer doesn't matter, because the moment allows him to finally say what he should've said once he opened the door:

"I think you look lovely."

He says it so earnestly, so honestly that it quite hurts. Such simple words to convey what he truly thinks, what he feels for her. In the end, it doesn't matter if his words are nothing compared to what true poets can say because she smiles at him as he's the only man in the world as if she wants to be his own personal sun and that it's worth absolutely everything.

They go to the kitchen after he comes back to his senses, and although he thinks maybe he should show her around, he still has to finish cooking. A part of him thinks that, if this goes well, she'll see the rest of the house eventually.

As he finishes with the pasta and serves them wine, the conversation takes an interesting turn towards his late wife and even if he can understand why the topic would be uncomfortable for her, it's no longer the same for him. In the past weeks, he has started to talk more about her, not only with Mila or just by himself, but with others as well. He doesn't want to shy away from that. Luda might no longer be there but her life will always be worth celebrating.

However, that doesn't mean this is how he wants to spend their first date —is he even allowed to call it that now that he knows she wasn't expecting this?—. That's partly why he hurries to serve them, the other part is that he wants to know what Alina thinks of his cooking, which has vastly improved and expanded over the last months. He's trying to be subtle about wanting to see her reaction once she tries the pasta but she doesn't seem to have a care in the world once she starts eating, feasting, and enjoying the food so much the sounds that come out of her mouth are quite... sinful.

Once again, his dick twitches in his jeans, and his mind makes him remember that he has a bed and even if he didn't want a bed there's a perfectly comfortable couch right there. Aleksander closes his eyes and forces himself to eat because he's better than this, he's not going to rush into things. It doesn't matter if he wants to find out if Alina makes those pretty sinful noises when he's on his knees or when he's finally inside her. It won't happen tonight, despite how much he wants to.

It doesn't help that she asks about her favorite tattoo. By all means, it should, but the second he remembers the tattoo is at the side of his chest, and for her to see he would have to remove his shirt. There are pictures, of course, there are pictures on his phone and he could show her but that's not what he wants to do. Every cell in his body is telling him to take her upstairs, he's very tempted to leave the pasta and just go upstairs. That's why he lets her name out of his lips.

"Alina…"

The desire is undeniable and the way she looks at him, he knows that if he were to act on what he's feeling right now she wouldn't refuse. Little red riding hood would look at the big bad wolf and get rid of her cape without even thinking, letting him feast on her. But even if that's what he wants, he doesn't act on it. He desires her body but that's not all he wants, if he's going to have Alina, he needs to have all of her; mind, heart, soul, and body. He won't settle for any less.

Aleksander knows the right thing to do is wait, he just wishes she didn't look like that wearing a black dress that shows her beautiful back.

When he changes the subject she grants him the same sympathy he had with her when they talked about Luda.

The conversation that follows is, luckily, less charged than that initial moment. If anything, it's easy and relaxed. He liked to talk to her, he enjoyed listening and asking questions, and even if right now he was doing most of the talking, he knew she was listening to him with interest; she wasn't listening because she had to. Being the boss and a businessman meant that sometimes people listened because they had to because they were forced to do so, but Alina does it because she wants to. And that fills his heart with happiness.

He doesn't mind the silence with her, never has. But he has spent so much of the months they have known each other not talking to her that he wants to make up for the lost time. He wants to talk and listen to her until they are both drunk on each other's words.

And maybe that turns out to be true because that would explain why he does what he does:

"If you ever decide to get a tattoo, feel free to tell me. It doesn't matter when."

Aleksander doesn't really know what makes the proposition fall from his lips, but he knows he doesn't regret it. He means what he's saying because even if he hasn't done a single tattoo since January of last year, he knows that for Alina he would do it again. That's why, when she reminds him that he hasn't done one of the things that made him feel alive, he doesn't back down, or offers an explanation. He just doubles down on his proposal, nothing is as important right now as letting her know that he means it.

"It would be an honor to tattoo you, Alina."

It would, it really would.

He would love to be the first one to tattoo her, but not because of some bullshit of being the first but rather, because of what it means. If she asks him, she's granting him access to her body and that's something that in any other case would be a regular part of tattooing, but with her, it's not. It would be something deeply personal, and that's why he would be honored if she ever did ask him to tattoo her. Not only that but because she's letting him forever mark her body with art, his art. So whenever she goes there's a part of him with her.

Alina is the closest thing in his life that's close to a superior being. In his eyes, she might as well be a Sankta, the one he would ever worship. So, if she ever asked for a tattoo he wouldn't hesitate, he would give her anything she wants.

But right now she doesn't seem to be thinking about tattoos, no. She's closed the space between them and it's standing so close that they are breathing the same air. If he thought that the kiss she gave him on the cheek was glorious then something else entirely. Getting the privilege of seeing her up close was something he would always be grateful for. Because it doesn't matter how many times he sees her, he won't get tired, he will always want more.

He wants to know the story behind the little scar on her forehead, he wants to make her eyes close every time she laughs loudly, he wants to see her nose scrunch, he wants to see her cheeks blush… His hand cups her cheek right then, not even giving him time to second guess himself. She doesn't seem to mind, au contraire, that seems to be the nudge she needs to actually kiss him and as she dives in for a kiss, the last thing he thinks before their lips touch is that he wants to taste her forever.

The kiss is soft. He's still so unsure of himself, he's still deep inside his head to actually respond with all the desire that's been simmering inside him. Still, Alina's lips against his own, her body trapped between his arms and her hands in his hair are enough to make him conclude that he has no interest in kissing anyone else anymore.

Because her lips are soft and absolutely delicious, when she breaks the kiss to get some air, the beast that's been asleep in his chest ever since he forbade himself from even dreaming about her, lets loose. He won't deny himself any further, he just got a taste of heaven from her lips and now he wants to eat the whole sky. Aleksander slightly grazes her neck before drawing her closer to kiss her again, this time he won't hold back. He will give himself to enjoy what he wants the most: Alina.

They kiss like teenagers having a make-out session and he doesn't even get to have a negative thought about that because she has swollen lips and the little bun she had is long gone, meaning that now he can finally tangle his fingers in her hair and revel in the feel of having her for himself, without stupid barriers. If he thought he had no words to actually describe her when she was at his door, he's even more screwed now seeing her becoming undone because of their kisses. He's not so far behind and he can see that she likes that, they haven't been able to stop looking at each other, the only thing they seem to do now other than kiss.

Because they haven't gotten much farther than that. He hasn't even let himself kiss her neck, despite how much he wants to. She seems to understand this and he's thankful for that. He's not going to take her to bed tonight, he will need a cold shower though. There's no doubt about that.

"Let me help you with the dishes before I order an Uber." Alina says once they seem to regain consciousness of the passage of time.

He scoffs at that and shakes his head; "I'll take you home. I can deal with the dishes later."

She smiles at that and excuses herself to go to the bathroom before leaving. That gives him time to gather everything and put it in the dishwasher before getting some shoes and grabbing his keys. He doesn't want to let her go so soon, he would like for the night to last forever but he can at least extend it by driving her back to her place.

He drives her home in silence, listening only to the GPS and the instructions it gives. Alina is next to him, hand on his, caressing it as she looks at the window. Unaware of the fact that he's slightly freaking out inside.

Because the truth is, what are they doing? What is this going to go? How is this happening? She's barely twenty-nine, she should be having fun, dating guys her age, breaking other people's hearts. She shouldn't be kissing a man eleven years her senior, not only a widow but also, on top of that, a single father. She shouldn't be throwing her life away from him.

He knows that if the situation were different, she would be his already. He wouldn't even have wasted a second. She would've been his by now and everyone would know it.

When he wanted to address the subject, back at his house, she had asked —nay, ordered!— for him to kiss her. He had complied because she was in his arms, and he couldn't deny her anything when she was so close to him. So he had kissed her until air was needed, and then he went again. Air be damned, he didn't need to breathe, he needed her lips.

But now, after helping her come out of the car, he knows he must say something. He can't let her go into her house without talking about what this means. Even if tonight is the only night they end up having, he needs to know. So he kisses her again and asks her to call him Sasha because he needs to hear him say it. If they only last for one night then it might be worth it, if just to get drunk on her lips and hear her call him Sasha.

He's not prepared for it. To hear her call him that, something that only Luda had done. Only the first woman he ever loved called him Sasha and he doesn't love Alina like that, at least not now, but he knows he will. He keeps getting distracted by kisses and therefore, he doesn't know where this is going if this even has legs to stand in but he at least can have that. To hear Sasha roll from her lips would be enough for him.

When they break the kiss he's determined to talk about the subject for once and for all but, to his surprise, Alina doesn't seem fazed by all the things he says. One by one he lists them; he's older than her, he has a daughter, he's a widow. She doesn't seem to care. And then he says the most important thing, the one he doesn't try to dwell on, for his own sake.

"I'm broken."

He doesn't know what he's really expecting to happen, but it's certainly not Alina's admission that she's wanted this for a long time. He's not expecting her to be on board with a relationship with him, at least not with the level of intensity that she's displaying. By all means, it shouldn't be a surprise, he's always known she's passionate about her job, her friends, and the things that made her happy; he's just not expecting to be one of the things that made her happy.

But she makes it clear; "Now you're not getting rid of me. So stop that, I'm not going anywhere." Which suits him just fine, because he doesn't want her to go anywhere.

When she hugs him, he wraps her in his arms and lets himself finally breathe. He had been bracing himself for the worst, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he might have to let her go, keeping the night as a treasured memory but, at the end of the day, she would remain a neighbor and a friend. But that didn't happen, instead, the most surprising thing had occurred:

He had a chance with Alina.

He had a chance to be happy.

He had a chance to love again.

xii.

"Marie, please accept my most sincere apologies. Traffic was not what I expected. Please allow…"

When Aleksander opens the door to his office he's almost barreled by his five-year-old daughter, who propels herself at him as if her life depended on it. He barely has time to open his arms to hold her.

"PAPA! PAPA!" She screams, making him smile. He missed that voice all day. It's not the same as listening through the phone.

"I missed you like crazy, zolotse." He murmurs in her ear before kissing her cheeks. Mila smiles at him, content to finally see him after a day apart. Aleksander keeps her in his arms before turning to face Marie and offer her a ride home as compensation.

But that's not Marie sitting on his couch.

"You're not Marie." He says, echoing something similar she had said the first time Alina visited the parlor. She immediately recognizes it and smiles playfully at him.

"Well, I'm sorry to disappoint." She jokes, standing up from the couch. That's when Aleksander realizes that his coffee table and its surroundings are covered with flowers, stems, and leaves. He cocks an eyebrow, unimpressed and unsurprised. "Mila, stay here with Sol, I'm going to talk to your father."

His daughter nods solemnly and gets down from Aleksander's arms before sitting next to Sol and petting her without hesitation.

"I'm sorry if I'm overstepping. I was going to wait for you here when I realized Marie was babysitting. I told her I could take over. I hope that's okay." Alina says once they have put some distance between themselves and Mila. He can see she's genuinely worried about overstepping, but he doesn't mind. He thinks it's perfect.

"I don't mind, Alinochka." He says, caressing her cheek. "Please don't ever worry about spending time with Mila. I trust you with her."

As soon as he says those words, Alina stops biting her lip in worry and gives him a big, bright smile. The ones he missed desperately today.

They've been dating for less than a month and to say that it was hard was underselling it. Not because of Alina, never because of her, she was supportive and patient with him. But because they were both busy people, trying to run a business was no small talk, dates were usually around lunchtime and when they could find some free time in their busy schedules.

On top of that, he had Mila and she was his priority. He had made it clear from the beginning, something that wasn't completely necessary because Alina, beautiful, understanding, and supportive Alina, knew that. And accepted it wholeheartedly. But that, in turn, meant that there was less time for them to be alone; often their dates had a third wheel, a cute one, but a third wheel nonetheless.

"I missed you." He breathes, hand still on her cheek, thumb near the corner of her lip which he's dying to kiss. In response, she cheekily bites the tip of his thumb. "Alinochka…" He starts but then, checking that Mila is not watching them, he dives in for a kiss. One that's not as long or as passionate as he wanted to, but a kiss nonetheless.

"I missed you too. I just wanted to see your face, that's why I came. If you at least send me a selfie I wouldn't miss you so much." Ah yes, selfies. He was too old for that.

"Then my plan worked because you're here." That is all he says before turning his face to the couch and coffee table. He was happy to have her there, bonding with Mila no less, but must his office be covered in flowers every time Alina sets foot there? If he thinks about it, it's a small price to pay, one he doesn't mind. But still; "Can either one of you explain what's going on here?"

Hearing his papa bear voice, Mila jumps from her spot to take his hand. "Flower crowns. Lina and I are making them for everyone. Including you papa. Please join us." He wants to ask who's going to clean the mess and say that this is past her bedtime but Mila looks so excited and Alina is there as well. By all means, this should be embarrassing because he's a grown man but all it takes is for these two to be around him and then he's reduced to nothing.

If anyone could see The Darkling now.

"Okay, let me get myself comfortable." He says and Mila screams in excitement, before high-fiving Alina. Ah, so they had planned this. He should expect them to gang up on him in the future then.

Once he's gotten rid of the jacket and the tie he goes to sit on the floor next to them. Mila immediately climbs to his lap and Sol comes to greet him. "Hey, Sol. I take it you've been helping these two with the mess." He says, rubbing behind her ears before looking at Alina. "I need some instructions to assemble these flower crowns. Please, Alina, enlighten me."

She rolls her eyes at him but promptly begins to explain the process of assembling everything, and after a couple of colorful comments by Mila, everyone soon begins to work on the crowns. Turns out his daughter wasn't lying when she said it was for everyone. Not only for them but also for Sol, which is hilarious. Alina obviously knows what she's doing but Aleksander thinks they don't fare that bad. His daughter is happy with the result and that's what matters.

"Here, put in on your father Mila." Alina says once she's added the final details on Aleksander's flower. The girls are all wearing their crowns, although for Sol's is more of a collar. He was planning on refusing the crown and making a big deal so that Mila could laugh but in the end, he doesn't because she seems so focused while putting the crown on his head that it's adorable. "Doesn't he look handsome, Mila?" Alina asks, sending a wink his way.

"Papa, you look handsome." She says, using the new word in her vocabulary and beaming with pride.

"Thank you zolotse." He says, kissing her cheek. "But I think you and Alina look better. Very, very beautiful." Mila giggles in response, but Alina comes closer and kisses his cheek, lingering a little more than necessary.

"You do look very handsome." She whispers in his ear and Aleksander is wondering why the sudden behavior when he realizes she's taking her phone out. "Let's take a selfie!" Her announcement makes Mila practically vibrate with excitement, which is something he doesn't share. Pinching the bridge of his nose he takes a sideways glance at Alina, who's pretending to be very innocent about the whole ordeal. "You have a beautiful smile, you should use it for the picture."

"Yes, papa! Big smile like you tell me." Mila admonishes and Aleksander gives them the biggest, most honest smile he can. What wouldn't he do for them?

Turns out Alina ends up taking more than one photo, something that he doesn't mind because, in the end, it means that he has more pictures to choose from. The one where Alina is kissing his cheek while Mila and Sol are sitting between them ends up adorning his desk a week later.

xiii.

When he opens up his eyes on Monday morning, Alina is already awake and looking at him. Her hair is a mess, resembling spilled ink that's all over the bed, her eyes are barely open but they reflect so much life, her hand is on his face, her delicate fingers tracing the outline of his jaw. It's early in the morning and he thinks she looks beautiful.

How lucky is he, that he gets to wake up to his own personal sun?

"Good morning Sasha." She says, still half asleep if her voice serves any indication. He has come to learn that his Alinochka is not a morning person, but that just makes the moment even sweeter for him.

"Good morning Alinochka." He answers, grabbing her by the waist and keeping her close to him just so that he can bask in the warmth of her body and how soft it is next to his. She quickly accommodates her head in the crook of his neck and lets her fingers trace the outline of his tattoos. He notices a particular predilection to his favorite tattoo, the butterfly that Mila drew and it's forever nested in his ribs.

He's about to say something when his alarm rings and he knows he needs to get out of bed, even if every fiber of his being is protesting that he should just stay in bed with Alina. It's tempting and he can't deny it, especially when she clings to him, pouting and mumbling something about wanting him to stay.

"Stay here, I'll just jump in the shower real quick." He whispers, kissing her forehead, feeling like a horrible man for leaving Alina alone on the bed.

He was in too deep, wasn't he?

He brushes his teeth and enters the shower. His mornings with Mila were a relatively easy affair once he got her out of bed. He helped her get dressed, they had breakfast together, and then it was just one smooth ride to school. But because she was a kid and kids were sometimes unpredictable, he liked to have time to do everything and not rush. Mornings were a sacred thing in the Morozova house and he wanted to share that with Alina, he just hoped…

"Hey, I hope you don't mind me joining you." She says, not waiting for his response before stepping in front of him. For a few seconds, he just stands there, watching her as she lets the water fall down her naked, perfect body. He bites his lips and thinks... no, no. He hates this, that she's torturing him like this.

"I hope you know that if you kill me I won't be able to tattoo you later." He says and she looks up at him from over her shoulder and laughs. He can't believe she dares to laugh.

"Good thing I'm not trying to do that then." She says, extending her arm to grab the soap, making him groan in response.

The shower is simultaneously the longest and the shortest one he's ever taken during his life. But it's all worthwhile when he gets to see her dress up. As much as he loves taking her clothes off, there's something intimate and domestic about seeing Alina get ready for the day.

"You look beautiful." He breathes, making her turn around and walk towards him.

"You don't look so bad yourself. As much as I love the suits and everything… Jeans and a t-shirt are not a bad look." She says, standing on her toes to kiss him. A proper kiss, finally, was that too much to ask? "Go and wake Mila, I'll just put some makeup on."

He gives her another kiss, just for the sake of it, and goes to his daughter's bedroom. Unsurprisingly, Mila has a companion; a four-legged, fluffy friend that goes by the name Sol. Aleksander is not surprised in the slightest. But he thought it was only fair that if he had a companion, his daughter had one as well.

"Good morning zolotse." He says, sitting at the edge of the bed and dropping a kiss on her forehead. Mila stirs in his sleep and Aleksander sighs because he knows this dance very well by now.

It takes her a few minutes to wake up but as she's brushing her teeth she remembers that Alina and Sol are there, she tries to speed the moment, which amuses Aleksander to no end. She ends up dressing in record time, just so that she can snuggle with Sol. She still, however, squirms and has a hard time staying still when he's brushing and braiding her hair, so the process still takes them a couple of minutes.

"C'mon. Let's get down for breakfast. You can still play with Sol while I make some pancakes for all of us." He says as they leave the room and come down the stairs. As soon as they reach the first floor there's the unmistakable smell of food and he wonders if…

"Lina! Lina! Good morning Lina!" Mila chants, letting go of his hand to run towards Alina, who stood behind the kitchen in all her glory. "Making pancakes?" She asks, curious, once they reach the kitchen.

"Good morning Mila." Alina says, dropping the batter for a new pancake. There's a stack of five next to her which means that instead of doing her makeup, she did this for them. "Your papa told me you liked pancakes so I thought I'd surprise you with some. As a thank you for letting me spend the night." Her words have barely left her mouth when Mila starts to vibrate with excitement. His daughter hugs Alina's leg, saying thank you over and over as if her life depended on it.

"Okay, little one. I guess that leaves us to set the table." He walks towards the cloth napkins and the kid's cutlery, which he gives to Mila. "Go, I'll take the rest."

"Follow me, Sol!" She squeals before leaving the two adults alone. He watches her go just as he starts to make coffee before making his way towards Alina.

"You didn't have to do this, you know." He says, coming closer to her and hugging her from behind, dropping a kiss on the back of her head. "But thank you for sweetening our morning"

"I know, but you told me so much about your mornings with her that I wanted to participate as well. This is the least I could do." She says, pouring the batter for a new one. Aleksander counts the ones she already made and decides that's enough.

"Do this one and join us at the table." He says, before going around the kitchen and gathering all the things he didn't give Mila. By the time Alina appears with a stack of pancakes, the table is perfectly set with every topping imaginable and the radiance of her smile on her face makes the sun look pathetic.

"It's been a while since I had a breakfast like this." She comments once she's sitting next to Mila, who begged for the new sitting arrangement making him sit in front of them.

For someone like his daughter, who has learned that breakfast is a sacred moment for them to share before the day starts, what Alina says sounds like sacrilege, and her face reflects that.

"Papa, can Lina come and have breakfast with us?" She asks while he cuts her pancakes into bite-size pieces. Her eyes are begging like nobody's business. As if he was going to say no to more breakfast with his girls.

"Maybe, if you eat all your food we can talk about it." He says, trying to be diplomatic because even if he wanted that, he didn't want to pressure Alina. Still, Mila takes his answer as if he had said yes and starts to eat, excited about the recent events.

He catches Alina's eyes and she gives him a warm smile before helping Mila with her food.

It's not a typical morning at the house, far from it. There's Sol, shedding hairs all over the house and sitting next to Mila in hopes of getting some food —which his daughter happily provides when she thinks she's being sneaky—. There's Alina, leaving her scent on his bed, leaving a toothbrush in the bathroom, making them breakfast, lighting their morning.

There's Mila, enjoying the presence of another human being in the house, relishing in it, craving for more. It warms his heart to see his daughter love so freely, so fearlessly; because there's no doubt in his mind that Milyena loves Alina. It's so clear to him, seeing them both interact, witnessing how well they get along and how far they've come since those days in March when Mila would only greet Alina or say goodbye but little else.

Seeing them together also makes painfully clear that he's in love with her. Which by all means should be crazy because they've barely been dating for three months, but still, he knows it's true. Whether he tells her today, tomorrow, or in a few months, he knows in his heart that he loves her.

He once wondered if they could have some sort of future, but now, as they clean the table and Alina helps Mila get her backpack, as they put Sol on a leash and head to the car, where they don't even need him to help with the seat arrangement, as they drive to school and sing songs from kids movies, as they arrive and Mila gives Alina a big hug before entering her classroom, as they drive back to the house where he will tattoo her, after almost two years of without holding a tattoo machine, as they step out of the car and she presses her body against his before kissing him, in his front porch, for no reason other than she wanted it to and she could…

That's when he realizes the future is here and with Alina, it's as bright as it can be.

fin.