Januaries always begin on an interesting note. This one was to remember forever; for good and bad reasons. The weather was colder as expected. Loads of snow was covering every street of London. It was falling so quickly that the footprints made in the snow would be covered back up in a matter of minutes. But thankfully it wasn't that cold, so the snow wasn't pilling up way too much, it was bearable. It was time for more fuzzy socks, warm drinks, blankets and cheesy holiday movies. Your favourite time of the year and you couldn't ask for more.
That day you two were cuddled up on a sofa couch in your apartment. His long body spread across the couch with his head settled on your lap in the left corner. And of course he was dozing off, going to sleep pretty quickly as you forced him to watch Love Actually yet again; but he couldn't really blame you, it's a classic. Your fingers gently moving through his soft locks, carefully massaging the spot on his nape where his hair cut ended and baby hair began growing. You enjoyed doing so, and his hair always smelled really good. Not only because of his natural scent but also because you couldn't help but buy him a collection of Nivea body and hair care products for Christmas. The shampoo had such a good smell that could cause your panties to simply disappear. Under his breath he mutters something in Ukrainian, making you realise he is most probably asleep. Since the holidays ended and he returned back to the UK from home you've noticed he started talking in his sleep. You couldn't be bothered to bring that up to him and tell about all sorts of things he has been saying. Sometimes of course they would not be understandable and in a language you couldn't speak, but after a night or two you decided to write some of the words he was saying and use google translate in the morning.
The movie had ended, quicker than you expected. And there was no way for you to turn something else on because the remote control was just too far away, and you would disturb his slumber. So you carefully reach out for your copy of Wuthering heights that was thankfully on the living room desk. Everything is good for now, you think to yourself. That is true, that is up until the point you'll have to go to the bathroom.
One of many things you've enjoyed doing during the winter besides mentioned, were long walks, when the weather was not too cold and bearable. Your hand scrunched into his, like two puzzle pieces, even though you could hardly feel his warmth through the fabric of the gloves he was wearing. You loved watching the small snowflakes fall over his face and eyelashes, making him scrunch his nose a bit like a small furry animal. The overjoyed smile and look in his eyes soon was replaced with tears and confusion as a few droplets of melted snow came in contact with his eyes. You couldn't help but laugh, but quickly taking out a package of tissues from your purse to help him clean the mess. Thankfully he wasn't wearing any lenses, otherwise the whole walk would have been ruined and you'd have to go home.
Running in the snow was so fun but thrilling in a bad way. As the temperatures were getting colder the layers of snow were to get turned into ice and you wouldn't want to fall down. Leaving footprints, running in circles and leaving various confusing patterns behind you which would make people wonder what happened there. At one point Konstantin pulled you a bit closer, making you stop in front of him. You began asking what's wrong right away but he simply answered with fixing your hat. It was almost falling down, unnoticed. With his now warm fingers since he removed the gloves, he pulled the soft woollen strings of your hat down, then fixed a few strands of hair that escaped the embrace of the material. And after around forty minutes of almost pointless walking you both decided to head back to his place. On the way he bought you a doughnut, as if he couldn't get any sweeter.
At around four pm you finally enter his apartment. Enjoying the sudden provided warmth by the heating system and radiators. He starts removing his coat, hat and scarf right away, and so do you. Then again pleasantly surprised by the amount of snow that somehow managed to stay under your clothes and hats. Like sand after weeks since you leave the beach.
You assist him, helping him hang the coat in the right places, setting the gloves on the radiator to dry and adjust the heating system; making sure it's not too hot or too cold. And maybe thirty minutes later you were doing the exact same thing as this morning, except at his couch, at his apartment, but still in his arms with the same drink and a movie just playing in the background. Nobody was watching it at this point.
The next thing you recall was waking up in his bed. You must have been in a deep sleep so he carried you there. Usually waking up here is so relaxing and soothing, but this time it was a bit panicky as your sense of smell alarmed you something odd is going on. Right away you get on your feet, running towards the source, where your nose was leading you.
You were welcomed by a confused man child panicking in front of a stove. A bowl of beaten eggs spilled, milk rotting and French toast burning in a greased pan, and you couldn't help but laugh. Covering mouth with your hand and turning around in several circles before finally resting your forehead on a nearby wall. He screams, in a way you've never heard him scream before. During sex he just usually groans you're the one that would sometimes scream.
As you return from your high of laughter you approach the taller one, turning the stove off right away and discarding the burned bread to the garbage bin. Then taking a hold of his cheeks and planting a little kissy on the tip of his nose. His face was sweaty and smelled like burnt bread, wonderfully accompanying the situation.
"I wanted to um, surprise."
"I know." You respond calmly, flashing him a warm comforting smile before rubbing his arm soothingly. It was time to make breakfast again, the right way.
You spend the rest of the day in bed. And among other things the afternoons are the best time for cuddles. Your legs tangled, waist in his arms and his face on your chest. You were carefully stroking his hair and completing Wuthering heights in your other hand; reading out loud to him.
He trembled, and his face glowed: all his rudeness and all his surly harshness had deserted him: he could not summon courage, at first to utter a syllable, in reply to her questioning look, and her murmured petition.
"Summon?"
"Oh, make something appear, either a thing or feeling, anything" you explain to him before planting a soft kiss on the top of his head in between two strokes.
'Say you forgive me, Hareton, do! You can make me so happy, by speaking that little word.'
He muttered, something inaudible.
'And you'll be my friend?' Added Catherine, interrogatively
"Interrogatively?"
"When you question someone, in order to get a certain answer."
He nods in understanding, letting his face rest again in the centre of your chest. "I love you."
"I love you too."
YOU ARE READING
a wonderful foreigner // mélovin.
Фанфик"The only reason you're seeing this wonderful human for three days now is that the universe is telling you to do something. But you still had no clue how to behave. Not that it was awkward, it was good. You've never met someone, that you could just...
