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It was but two people who fanned a spark that became a flame; one that lit the match that burned down life as they knew it; all while the couple danced in the center of the fire’s afterglow and kissed the ash from one another’s cheeks.
“When the Romanov magic returns, it will bring them all to their knees.”
There was a fire behind Anastasia's eyes that had been dimmed, while not yet extinguished, and she had the face of a woman silenced.
They were each so blinded by their obsession to cover their scars that they couldn't see their injuries were the same.
Both looked for weaknesses in the other’s defenses when they simply could’ve handed over a key.
“Your worth isn’t defined by what you can do for others, either. You are not a weapon or a tool. You want to help. So we will. We’ll help everyone. We can’t do it all today.”
“I have an awful feeling that I would give you every night of my life.”
“And I’m in love with a woman! Tell me, moi Tsar, which one of these do you think has inspired more passion in a man?”
He prayed for her future and her past, that the latter would never intrude once more on the former.
He prayed that he would be nothing but an encouraging footnote on her destiny, on the full life that she would live.
done that for him. “I have a feeling I’ll never deserve you, Anya,” he said softly, his hand going up to stroke her hair. “Let’s find my father,” she kissed him quickly, “Then I’m happy to spend the rest of my life letting you try and prove it.”
