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For every woman who had to contain her magic. Let it burn.
While memories of revolutions heavily focus on the fire and ash, let us not forget the humble spark. It’s the incendiary device that rips fabric from the seams, pulls hearts from their chests, and babes prematurely from their mothers.
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.
At her fingertips, she held the beginnings of a spark that would incinerate everything around her, leaving behind nothing but ashes that would give way to only two names that rang through history itself: Rasputin and Anastasia.
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.
Anastasia's thoughts often drifted as she read, and found that reading proved a wonderful pretense for avoiding conversation.
They were each so blinded by their obsession to cover their scars that they couldn't see their injuries were the same.
“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 promise. You’ve seen my scars, Anya… why won’t you let me see yours?”
He paid attention to her like a man truly possessed — each bite and sting followed by a hot and soothing glide of his tongue.
“Answer me first, Anya. Be a good girl and answer the question.”
“You want to keep your distance,” he sneered, arching a brow. “And if I fuck you, Anastasia,” the words sent a shiver up Anastasia’s spine, “I won’t be able to stay away.”
“You’re so beautiful when you respond to me, Anya.”
“I have an awful feeling that I would give you every night of my life.”
“I… I don’t even know if I have words for it. It’s true. You asked me for just one night, but I’d give you all of them for the rest of my life.”
“I’d give you every moment of my life, Anya.”
“Ah, ah, ah,” he chided, “Don’t be greedy, Anya. Take what I give you.”
You have needs. You’re a person. You’ve been through trauma, and you need a little reminding of who you are.”
“You’ve lived for so long without anyone supporting you that you don’t know how to accept it.”
you can end me, set me on fire if you must… but don’t you ever believe for a second that you can’t trust me. I love you!!”
“No,” he chided, a smirk sliding onto his face, “I tell you when to move. You’re going to take whatever I give you, isn’t that right?”
“What do you want me to do? I feel like taking my time… you aren’t going anywhere, are you?”
“You take me so well, malyshka,” he growled, biting the shell of her ear, “Every last bit of my cock.”
She was scorn, she was fury, she was wrath.
She couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it was perverse to grin at such devastation, but when it had represented everything that fought to keep Anastasia in a cage her whole life, she was thrilled to see it burning.
“Honey,” his low voice in her ear sent shivers down Anastasia’s spine, “I think we both know God couldn’t fuck you like this.”
