they were always like this, push and pull, like gravity. they were meant to be together in ways that was like how adam and lotte were suppose to fall in love–he had seen the way she looked over her shoulder when she saw adam pass by, a look in her eyes that he had never seen before. it was desperation, like without her, he couldn’t possibly breathe. there was an emptiness in him. maybe this is how he had always felt with her, even when they weren’t intimate, even when they hated each other back in the kgb, they still looked for each other to train, to fight. they were always on two ends of the spectrum. but never apathetic towards one another. like they were a part of each other, a part that no matter how hard they tried, how hard they tried to rip it out of their lives, burn it, to destroy it–it’s still there, lingering in the back of their minds, at the core of their hearts.
“say my name again.” he muttered against her lips as his edged towards the end of her shirt. she didn’t push him away and that made his chest swell with happiness. she didn’t want him to leave, he wasn’t alone. now he just had to prove to her that she wasn’t either. that she was and never would be alone again. he would redeem himself until his last breath. “say my name again.” he said as he pulled her shirt higher, his kisses a bit more sloppy before they settled against the place on her neck that she loved so much. he kissed her her collarbone, kissing the scars. each telling a story before he looked at through his lashes, staring at her silently as he kissed her skin, normally cold, but right now, warm to his touch. “fuck me.” he said almost in a growl and flipped her over so she was sitting on top of him. looking up at her with as if she was a goddess, worthy to be worshipped. he wanted her to take control, he wanted her to show him what she needed, what she wanted. he wanted this to be her choice. she could walk away or she could stay. he just wanted her to choose.
Her breath hitches as she feels his hands on the ends of her shirt, his touch hot against her skin. How long has it been, truly? How long has it been since she has felt like this, how long has it been since they have been together? She barely even looked at him these days, choosing to pass by without even a glance. She’ll never admit but it’s easier like this. It’s easier to pretend that to be SCARLETT LEFURGEY if he’s not in her life. Not him, not Charlotte. It’s easier to keep them alive like this, even if it hurts her. It’s easier to keep her emotions inside a bottle, hidden and stashed away. Her anger, her hate, her hurt. It is easier. It’s what she should do. She’s a BLACK WIDOW, she should always be a l o n e.
Anna gasps when his lips touch her neck, one hand digging into his hair as the fingernails of the other dig and mark his neck. He knows her better than she’ll ever admit. “Dimitri” she says, and it is somewhere between a whisper and a growl: she doesn’t want to say it. She doesn’t want to give in that easily, to get sucked into him that fast. She doesn’t want to need him as much. She’s not supposed to be like that. She was not made to be like that. She was cut from marble, carved to be strong, impenetrable. She was supposed to be the PERFECT WEAPON, to have no emotions, to feel no desire. She was supposed to obey, and nothing else. Anna looks at him as he flips her, locking their eyes together and taking in a deep breath. Everything stops for a moment, and for a split second her hand touch his face, thumb moving softly against his cheek. Fuck me. Maybe they could be alright, couldn’t they? Dimitri. Maybe they could solve through everything. You’re nothing more than I thought you would be. No. Things could never be the same ever again. Monster. Monster. Monster. Her nails dig into his skin, her eyes shifting from a softness to something else entirely, turning sharper and sharper by the second. Fuck me. “I hate you.” She growls in response, ripping his shirt apart without thinking twice. “I hate you.” She says once again, lips moving to his neck, teeth sinking in.