Collaboration with @silmarilz1701
Svetlana knew how to play the game. She'd been caught in the political drama of Stalin's inner circle since birth. The only child of one of Stalin's closest friends, she grew up in the limelight, scrutinized by frie...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
For the first time in weeks, Sveta just breathed. She sat by herself in one of the pews in Rachamps' convent, eyes forward as she watched the dancing candle flames cast shadows in all different directions. A warmth settled over her, the cold from her recent stroll outside just beginning to fade from her coat. In that Catholic church, Sveta let herself relax.
The candles reminded her of better days. They reminded her of hours she'd spent in her bedroom, a space all her own. Some days she felt whisked back to 1935, back to being thirteen and scared of the world. Friend, foe, it didn't matter back then. Everyone was against her except her mother.
She'd kept candles in her room to drive away the shadows. And here, a decade later and several countries away, Sveta loved the candles in the church for doing the exact same thing. No more shadows. No more fear.
About thirty men still lounged in the safety of the church. Silence had settled around them ever since the choir had left. It soothed her nerves, just being there in the moment, reveling in the safety and solitude.
She could see Ron and Lipton chatting at the front of their pews. The latter sat wrapped in on himself, smiling a bit at whatever Ron had told him. Sveta guessed it was about his promotion.
Sveta didn't try to stop the smile from spreading across her face. She just let her eyes take in the scene, as Ron adjusted his ODs. He'd gotten the promotion nod, too. She couldn't tell if it was the heat of the candles or the warmth that just watching him gave her, but she could feel her cheeks warming. Watching the men, watching him, when none of them ran from foxhole to foxhole brought her great peace.
When Ron turned towards the door, she caught his eye. He shot her a smirk. Sveta narrowed her eyes but couldn't help smiling back as he walked past her and put his hands on the door. A gust of wind blew her hair into her face. She watched him leave. It took only half a second for her to follow.
"Running away?" she said. Sveta tried to keep her voice low as she moved into the darkness. Her grin widened as Ron turned to look at her and just rolled his eyes with a smile of his own. "Excited to run Easy now?"
Ron shrugged, but he couldn't stop the pride. She could read it easily. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and handed it to her before lighting a new one for himself. "Finally they have someone in charge that can keep up with the NCOs."
She laughed. The light of her cigarette and what escaped the church through stained glass highlighted the little snowflakes that fell around them. She agreed with him completely. Dick had the mind, the tactics of a leader. And he inspired the men. But since his promotion, they'd been missing the tenacity. Ron had that.
"I'll admit, I'm a bit sad though," Sveta said.
"Why?"
"I won't outrank you for much longer."
Ron snorted out a small laugh. Silence fell between them again. No heartbeat of war, no choir of angelic girls. Just the wind in the small town and the sound of their breathing. Sveta couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so warm, so human, so alive.
