Vixen & The Viper - Baby It's On The Cold Outside [a specterverse xmas novella]

Chapter Eight : Pushkin

Venom Romanov

Terrified claws cling to my shoulders and violent tremors tear through her tiny body as Mishka shivers from shock.. She sobs quietly into my chest and I carry her quickly through the drift, back towards the cabin door..

"Shhh- I have you, Snezhinka.." I soothe softly, cradling her with care.. "Nothing can hurt you.."

"Y-You s-saved me, ag-gain.." She stammers through chattering teeth, the cold now beginning to set in to affect her..

"Hmm.. I think mostly Feliks saves you.." I grunt, setting her down on the porch steps to scan her for injury..

She sniffles with her cheeks rosy and pink, her skin dewy and bundles of her peony and pear scented curls spilling over her shoulders.. "But what about that Triad? You killed him and you didn't even flinch.."

It's true that I don't regret what I have done, but I am filled with remorse for having frightened my sweet Vixen.. She is the first flicker of light in my life for so long, I am reluctant to extinguish that divine glow.. "Mishka, Moya Snezhinka- I did only what waz necessary to protect you.. You do not need to fear me.."

"I want to believe you.." Mishka warbles anxiously, never stealing her scared stare from mine..

I shrug, unable to offer her more than the truth.. "So, believe me."

"Then tell me who you really are?" She wipes her eyes in the sleeve of her jersey and blinks back her tears.. "Why do you hide out here in the mountains?"

My throat tightens as radical honesty becomes the only choice that remains.. I have hidden in the nothingness for too long, it is time to feel something again.. "I am Venom Romanov.. Son of Oska Romanov.. I waz Sovietnik Ov' Moscow Bratva.. I did abandoned duty to my uncle, Oleg, The Pakhan, and there now iz price over my head for thiz betrayal.. You are not the only one with enemies who wish to see you dead.."

"Wait- you were the sovietnik?" She frowns, her thoughts whirring in visible calculation.. "You're- you're a-"

"Hitman, da.." I concisely conclude for her..

"I don't want to die-" She gapes up at me, shock stricken and so beautiful.. "Please- don't kill me.."

It is a sincere request.. Innocent and naive..
I wouldn't kill her.. I couldn't.. I won't..
But before thinking, and with ill-timed dark humour, I hum in reply. "Hmm.. Perhapz.."

"What?" Mishka squeaks in horror and I quickly shake my head, lifting my hands in playful surrender..

"I juzt joke, Malishka.. Breathe.." Reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear, I wince when she flinches.. "I would not hurt you, Snezhinka.. Not ever-"
Unable to find words of my own, I borrow those which I am certain of.. Words that have given meaning to the power of emotion since the Romantic era.. Words of poetry.. "Ya pomnyu chudnoye mgnoven'ye:
Peredo mnoy yavilas' ty,
Kak mimoletnoye viden'ye,
Kak geniy chistoy krasoty."
(I still recall the wondrous moment:
When you appeared before my sight
As though a brief and fleeting omen,
Pure phantom in enchanting light.)