RussiaxReader - Letting Go

I am warning you now...this is a tearbending zone. Even I had trouble not losing it. Proceed at your own risk.
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Staring…just staring.

At nothing really. Or maybe something. Just sort of staring at the bottom of a shot glass through the amber liquid filling it. It’s not like Ivan had anything better to do.

His sad violet eyes kept searching the vodka before him and then gripped the shot glass and downed the whole of it. It stung, but only for a moment. He was well accustomed to the strong burn of vodka. Ivan shook his pale head, and as if suddenly triggered by the alcohol, memories began to flood back in.

“Why don’t you at least try it, da?” a thick, heavy, but friendly Russian accent said to a beautiful, laughing, woman with sparkling (e/c). He held a large bottle of amber vodka he had bought from the bartender watching them a little ways off.

“No way! Vodka smells awful!” She said cheerily. Ivan proceeded to look at her confused and say, “Really?” and then tilt the bottle right under his nose and take a strong, intoxicating, whiff, “No. Smells perfectly fine to me.”

The woman laughed, Ivan couldn’t help but smile and admire the way her lips curled upwards into that sweet sign of joy. He urged her again to try the Russian Vodka but she refused. The Russian then took matters into his own hands and poured the shot glass full with vodka, then set the large bottle down. He then pushed it gently towards the woman he had been conversing with all night. She shook her head defiantly and pushed it back.

“Crap that stuff is burning my nose from here!” she commented when her nose picked up the strong scent of the alcohol. Ivan gave a low, strong, chuckle and said, “What did you expect from Mother Russia!?” the young woman shook her head with a smile.

“Please?” Ivan knew what was coming next. He had told her earlier that he never had to say please because things were simply done when he wanted. He was such an imposing force and so “respected” (cough feared cough) that all he had to do was make a statement and it was done.

“I thought you never said please?” the young woman said raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief.

“Well, only for special people.”

He wasn’t lying. Somehow Ivan knew this one was special. He didn’t know how but for some reason he felt so calm and happy around this woman. Sure they had just met but he still felt so…comfortable for some reason. Usually Ivan felt like such an outcast, being so freakishly tall, pale, having violet eyes, and wearing his trench coat and scarf all the time. Maybe it was the booze but that didn’t exist with this woman. He could be open, and talkative, and rambunctious for some reason. He could open up (And that’s why he is so OOC in this scene) But it was probably just the booze.

The woman stared in disbelief and a blushed lightly graced her cheeks. The first all night and it made Ivan feel warm and happy. Finally she caved in and said, “Fine! But you’re buying me a Shirley Temple afterwards to wash it down.”

“As you wish.” The Russian man said with an excited chuckle.

She carefully picked up the shot glass. The young woman tucked a bit of her (h/c) hair behind her ear and stared at the amber liquid inside the tiny cup in between her fingers. Her lips pursed as she inhaled the burning scent of the vodka. She glanced at her new Russian friend who gave her a reassuring nod. So she pinched her nose and tipped her head and the amber liquid into her throat and gulped. Her face scrunched as the vodka made contact with her innards and she felt as she was BURNING. It hurt so much her eyes watered and she rubbed out the tears quickly before Ivan could see. The young woman set the glass down and took a deep breath. Then cough violently for a moment and bent her head towards the bar counter. Ivan chuckled a bit. She heard his light chuckle and suddenly shot up with an angry face saying “That stuff is AWFUL! How can you drink that!?” she asked astonished.

Ivan began to chuckle even more and said, “I am Russian. This is my blood.” He said acknowledging the bottle of vodka again. The young woman looked from the bottle to the man and then a sort of snort, followed by a laugh, escaped her lips. Which was quickly followed up by more coughing.

When the coughing from the burning vodka subsided a little she looked to Ivan and pointed a threatening finger, “You! Order my Shirley Temple. Now!”

“Da.” The huge Russian man couldn’t help but comply and lifted his hand to the bartender to order the drink. To which the woman quickly said “Make it in one of those huge beer glasses and have more sprite than alcohol please.”

(Hold up…one does not simply order Russia around…da hell is happening here?! O_O)

When the drink arrived, she gulped half of it down in less than 30 seconds and Ivan watched with impressed violet eyes. She settled the almost goblet down then looked at her new friend.

“What? I can drink! Just not that liquid fire.”

“We have to change that then. You cant be one wit Mother Russia until you can drink like her.” Ivan said with a glint of rare plotting mischief in his eyes. The meaning being, this woman had come to Russia to live here and try out a new scene. She was excited to learn the culture and adapt to it. The woman began to laugh very loudly, but Ivan wasn’t bothered by it at all. He found it quite calming. Ivan was looking foreword to training this young woman named ________ to drink like a Russian. Why was he feeling so strange, probably the alcohol he guessed? The young woman continued to laugh and then downed the rest of her drink.

This one was indeed very special.

Ivan looked back at this moment. That first night in the bar where they met. And smiled a bit. He closed his eyes in remembrance, drinking in the sight of her laughing. He’d never been so open and alive with anyone. Or ever again. (Well that’s not entirely true)

More memories flooded into his mind as he stared at the empty shot glass. Memories of more vodka sharing with ______. How their friendship grew and how much he enjoyed it. Memories of watching her take on some serious drinkers and kick ass later on when Ivan had finally taught her to drink even better than a sailor. He chuckled and enjoyed these moments of his past.

Ivan’s mind then began to move foreword in time. Memories of something even more enjoyable filled his mind. When that sweet young woman, ______, awkwardly blushed a deep red as she took the pretty sunflower from Ivan. How from there they began a more serious and romantic relationship. How violent he would get at times…how scary and terrifying he could be…how ______ patiently dealt with every outburst…his face darkened at these thoughts…He had never realized how wonderful it was to be around ______, how high and happy he felt….until he was feeling low.

His memories stretched even further, to a moment in time he would never forget. A moment, where they strolled into a field of sunflowers opening to the day and bending in the breeze. To Ivan’s secret field. Because Ivan absolutely adored sunflowers.

Her face lit up in amazement and she immediately began to run in the breeze and sway with the flowers around her. _______ was entranced by the beauty of the field and danced around in it. Ivan watched her and hid his smile behind the scarf around his neck. Then the young woman ran to her tall boyfriend and took his huge hands in her dainty in comparison ones and pulled him foreword to dance in the field with her. He seemed very awkward and fumbly while dancing, Ivan never quite got the hang of it and he was huge so that didn’t help. But _____ didn’t mind. She laughed and smiled until she began to spin around in circles. Ivan did the same and soon they ended up laying in the field of sunflowers, the tops of their heads touching, staring at the clouds. They pointed out different shapes and talked of who knows what for who knows how long. Well, ______ did ost of the talking. Ivan was the silent type. But it was pure, perfect, bliss for both of them. There was even a period of time where they simply lay in silence enjoying the feeling of knowing they were together.

Then Ivan finally summoned the courage to break the silence, “I must ask you somthing…_______”

“Hmm? What is it?” ______ raised herself to lean on her elbow and look down at Ivan’s somehow flushed face. She’d never seen him like this it worried her. She’d seen him angry many times, stressed, intimidating, happy, cheerful, at peace but never…flushed? “Ivan are you okay?”

“Da! But…Ne MagU zhIt’ bes tebyA” he said rushed. She caught it all, and having become fairly fluent in Russian in her years with this strangely flushed man she understood what he meant and smile, “I can’t live without you either. I feel…so at home with you.”

“But I am so…rough…” he said in his gruff Russian accent.

“Ivan, what do I always say? It’s the good experiences, and the bad, and the weird ones in between that make you who you are. I don’t care if you’re a little rough around the corners, I love you just the same.” She stated confident in every word. Ivan felt reassured and calm, the flush in his face vanished and he became confident. Violet eyes and (e/c) irises connected and stayed staring for a moment before Ivan lifted himself up and pressed his lips, rather boldly, to hers. She’d always been the kisser in the past, even with their first kiss, so this struck her as a shock. After a moment of bliss he pulled away and whispered softly…

“VEEy-di za me-nyA zA-muzsh.”

His hand slipped into the pocket of his coat and stayed there. For ______ stared at him shocked once the words translated in her mind. She stayed motionless for a moment but slowly smiled and kissed his cool lips once again. Ivan pulled out the ring-box in his pocket and revealed the beautiful, yet simple, engagement ring inside which had one large diamond in the middle, and pale yellow sapphires all around it shaped like teardrops and making a glittering sunflowers. She was amazed by the stunning ring and allowed Ivan to place it on her left ring finger.

“Of course I’ll marry you. Ya tebyA IyublyU.” ______ whispered to her new fiancé. Ivan almost beamed hearing her say “I Love You” in Russian and accepting to be his wife.

And he almost beamed remembering this perfect moment in the sunflower field. Almost…but not quite…as he trudged through the streets to his car and drove off. His mind began to move on to other memories, the beautiful wedding, _____’s refusal to change her engagement ring because she loved the sunflower ring so much. They’re joy and happiness. How much fun _____ had planning it. How intense one or two fights they had were at that time…but then how amazing their honeymoon was…which was the second time he had been so alive…

And then how distant Ivan was afterwards. How he was pulled away from his _______ all the time because of work and anger. But she never faltered or doubted him. She was always there. His _______....an image of her twirling in her long, beautiful, elegant, white wedding gown came to his mind. He couldn’t get over how happy and delighted she looked. How beautiful she was. Even to this day…he could never get over how wonderful ______ was.

And how lucky he was to have someone so patient. The darker memories began to flood back in. the fights. The fear. The distance between them. The silence. Ivan wasn’t much of a talker so how could he connect with her? At times, he didn’t need to speak to connect with _____. But at others…the silence was the thing that aggravated her. Ivan drove in silence, a grimace forming on his face as he remembered these thoughts. He drove past his house and didn’t stop or turn. He missed her…without _____ his house wasn’t a home. It was so empty…and lonely…usually he did fine on his own but ever since he had met ____...he needed her…Ivan was amazed at how much he missed home as he drove on this icy, cold, rode.

He couldn’t help but become entranced by these memories. So much so that he didn’t notice he had parked, or that Ivan had gotten out of his car and began walking again.

It wasn’t until he felt a snowflake fall on his eyelash and the scent of dying sunflowers razed his large nose that he realized where he was. Looking around, he was saddened by how dry and dead the once bountiful field looked. He felt so sad…so sad he hadn’t taken advantage of the opportunities he had earlier. To spend more time in the sunflower field…To give ________ everything she wanted…To have a family…

Regret filled the Russian man as he remembered their arguments over that topic. Ivan’s fear of being too aggressive and of being a bad father frightened him from wanting children. But _____ so wanted a family of her own. He could clearly remember it now…

“Ivan…what are you afraid of? You don’t have to worry!”

“What about money? What about…about everything!? What if I’m too rough and dangerous? I don’t want to hurt a child, much less my own!”

“We’ll be fine! I know you, you’d be a great father.” _______ gazed up at him, placing her hands on his chest. Ivan’s large left hand wrapped around hers, the cool of her wedding/engagement ring pressing against his hand a noticeable thing for some reason. He looked at his wife with sad eyes.

“I…I can’t _____.”

______ nodded slowly, not quite understanding but accepting his limits. “It’s okay. It’s not the right time. I can tell.”

“But you want a family now…I feel like I’m letting you down…” He said slowly, avoiding her (e/c) orbs that were trained on his face.

“You’re not, Ivan. We have plenty of time. We can wait. I can wait. When your ready. Okay?” she was so patient and gracious, even at that moment Ivan couldn’t understand how easily ______ could just say okay even thought he knew she wanted a baby so badly. He could see it in her eyes but poor Ivan just didn’t believe he was good enough to be a father…so they waited…

But Ivan didn’t come around soon enough…

And that was one of the many things he regretting now as he walked through the chilled, gray, field. Ivan wasn’t sure why he was there…he just knew he should be. Or wanted to be. Or had to be. But it felt right…after all, what else could he do?

Another regret…Ivan had never actually said “I love you” to _____. Did he love her? What was love? Is it real? He wasn’t sure. She said it all the time but Ivan could never believe love was entirely real. He grew up on such a cold, losing his whole family down to his sisters before he could understand how he felt for his own flesh and blood. He was left alienated and alone for a large part of his life. Such a loveless world Ivan came from, one could not possibly expect him to understand what it meant to love. So no…he had never said those words to his own wife. He wasn’t sure what they even meant. And Ivan hated saying things he doesn’t mean.

But now…standing in this almost barren field, kneeling down, brushing off the snow off of one of the last standing sunflowers, he questioned this. Did he even love her?

Ivan gripped the base of the flower and carried it to his car. He then sat back inside it and drove, absentmindedly, his frontal lobe still trapped in memories, while his subconscious led the way. To where? Ivan didn’t even know. He just allowed himself to sink into the thoughts and memories of his past. The good…the bad…and the weird…

He chuckled at this, remembering ______’s beloved mantra. It was a very deep and wise saying when you thought about it. Ivan respected that about her, she was very insightful and wise for someone her age. But she was still goofy, cheery, and a delight in his life…was…

Now without her…he had become empty. Almost barren like the flower field. With only sweet memories to keep him somewhat sane. But it was those memories that drove him to madness the most. Specifically one…one very painful…memory…

Suddenly Ivan was back in the sun, in the middle of the day. The anger he had felt towards that pompous American businessman from earlier that day resurfaced. The calming words of _______ were heard but not listened to as Ivan returned to that day in his thoughts. That idiotic move he had made to release his anger by speeding up his drive back home. Silent. Bubbling. Fury. Coursing. Through. Every. Inch. Of. Him.

_______ had been trying to calm him down and assure him that the American wouldn’t overthrow and replace Ivan. But he was not convinced. He was not satisfied with that and insisted on being angry. The idea of losing his job to such an arrogant asshole infuriated him. It was so similar to how he lost his family to a group of moronic assholes seeking perfection in an imperfect world as a child…naturally it would trigger such a volatile response. Ivan was usually a silent, passive aggressive guy…but for some reason he suddenly needed to push down that gas pedal and not stop…

Then…the memory became fuzzy. Ivan was at a stoplight and held his head as this part of that awful day played out in his head.

The sound of crunching, the white of airbags, the shattering rain of glass, the pain and blood, the sickening thud and snap…her scream…

_______’s scream for Ivan to stop as he drove his speeding car and collided directly with a large truck that was crossing…

He winced trying to remember what came next…but nothing came. It was so fuzzy, so fast; so horrible…he could hardly remember a thing. Everything was clouded…but he remembered waking up. He remembered how strange those first days were. How alone he felt and now feels amplified by 200. He remembered how volatile, hostile, and dangerous he became after that…people didn’t respectfully keep their distance or somewhat slightly fear him after that. No something changed. Now people just plain thought he was terrifying, crazy, and dangerous. Much more so than before. He didn’t even have to do much, all that needed to be seen was the anger in his violet eyes. But the anger wasn’t at them. Or the car. Or the truck. Or ______. Not even at the arrogant American.

It was towards himself.

But such an intense, silent, bottled anger tends to be shed in the body and aura. That is why Ivan was so terribly feared. That is why he was always alone. He was too angry and too sad to let himself care about anyone else. He had tried. Ivan really did. He tried to seem cheery and sweet but everyone could see the darkness in his eyes.

The nightmare in his head finally faded and Ivan came back to reality to find himself holding the sunflower he had picked from the field, staring down into a bed.

Machines beeped all around him and his violet eyes turned to a gaze of eternal pain, sorrow, regret, and guilt as he looked upon the face of his comatose wife ________. Her once bright (e/c) were shut in a dreamless sleep. Her (h/c) was tied back to avoid interfering with any machinery. She lie motionless in her hospital bed. There were IV’s in her arms, nutrients feeding her body, a tube in her mouth helping her breath. an eternal sleep, almost as deep as death. They said she could wake up, but it was unlikely. Her brain was fine from the MRI’s taken, but her body was so damaged it literally shut down and isn’t sure how to reboot itself now that it can. They’d done everything possible to save _______. They’d rebuilt parts of her body that they were afraid would never be repaired. Even her face, as Ivan glanced at the faint scar on the side of her nose, running to the middle of her right cheek. The right side of her face seemed slightly bashed in, despite the doctors’ best efforts. But she would not wake from her slumber.

Ivan knelt down by _________ ‘s side and took her faintly warm, soft, but strangely cool, left hand. He rubbed his thumb gently on the side of her palm. Then he picked it up and kissed her hand, noticing the sunflower wedding/engagement ring that had somehow survived the crash and he had insisted she still wear. Even in this dreamless, empty, state. His violet eyes began to feel dry, and then, a tear fell from his right eye down to the sunflower next to him.

Internal bleeding, broken bones, the ride side of her body had been fairly mangled; while Ivan managed to make it out with a broken arm and a mild concussion. But other than that nothing. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. Why her? She didn’t deserve it. it should have been him…but then…this was probably his punishment. To hate himself and wallow in guilt, fury, and pain over his mistakes.

“Forgive me _______. Please…forgive me…” he choked out softly. He sat there holding her hand for so long…the doctors and nurses had tried countless times to get him to let them turn off the machines. It’d been almost a year since the accident…but Ivan couldn’t…he just could not end her chance of waking up.

Finally he took ______’s hand and gently picked it up, then grabbed the other and carefully placed them at her lower torso with the sunflower in between them. He knelt down and kissed his wife’s forehead…for the last time…and whispered…

“I…love you, _______. Ya tebyA IyublyU. I always will…”

A second and final tear fell from his right eye, landing and staying on the comatose woman’s left closed eye. Ivan stood and turned to leave…it was time…the knot of pain tightened in his chest as he walked out of his wife’s hospital room to find her doctor…

It’s true what they say.
You only know you love someone…when you have let them go…

And he let her go…