Apartment 504

It's nearly midnight by the time you get there. She doesn't live terribly far from the Rice Room, so you walk. Her apartment is in a nicer building, with a security guard upfront and polished granite floors. Surprisingly nice for a bartender, but then you remember that's not all she is.

"Who are you calling on, sir?" the guard asks.

"Anastasia Gorvachev. She's expecting me. Tell her Lev is here."

"Oh, right. She called earlier. No worries, I'll get the elevator for you."

He points towards a pair of elevators further in the building. You thank him and head towards them. One of them dings just as you arrive, and you climb inside. It automatically goes to the fifth floor. Ana's floor. You step out, turn left down the hallway, and head to her door. Apartment 504. You plant a soft knock on it, trying not to disturb her neighbors.

A minute later, the door lazily drifts open. You step inside to find Ana standing there, wearing a red silk robe embroidered with cherry blossom trees. Her hair is in a ponytail, although her bangs fall down her forehead as always.

"Lev, my late-night caller," she says, a wide grin on her face.

You step inside, closing the door behind you. She doesn't move, and you realize you're nearly on top of her. Seizing the moment, you close the gap, wrap your arms around her in a hug, and sink your nose into her hair.

"Be careful, don't want you to get sick," she murmurs into your chest. The accompanying sigh betrays her words.

"It's alright, Ana. How are you?" You step back, releasing her, and she guides you into her living room. It's small, and you see one bedroom and one bathroom off of the room, her kitchen next to it in an open floor plan. All beautifully decorated. Her furniture is contemporary and sleek, and everything is spotlessly clean. You forgot how much of a clean freak she is.

The lights are off. She sits down on the couch, a thin modern design with angled arms and a sparsely cushioned back. She pats beside her, so you sit down. The TV is on, playing reruns of some old show you've never seen before. The screen provides the only light in the room, flickering with the change of scenes.

"I'm feeling much better. I'll probably return to work tomorrow."

"I'm glad to hear it. I was worried about you after Uncle Ivan said you were sick for so many days."

She shoots you a grin, her brilliant smile seeming to illuminate the cozy apartment. "Nothing can hold me down for long. I have things to do, after all. Can't sit around all day."

You turn towards her, leaning your side against the couch. She is looking at you, the bright smile still on her face. It falters.

"What? You look so serious. Are you alright?"

And it hit you then. Despite your earlier bravado, you watched a man die. No - murdered. You watched a man be murdered. And you helped, even if you only sat in the car. You know you will do it again if it means achieving your goal, but the numbness is wearing off, and with that comes a torrent of emotions that you struggle to restrain.

"Lev? What's wrong?"

You can feel your face heating up, your limbs feeling distant and syrupy. You helped **** a man.

A tear breaks from the corner of your eye. Then another. They slowly fall down your face, casting starlight in the dimly lit room. At the sight of your tears, Ana's eyes widen in alarm.

"Lev, Lev! Come here, please," she says, scooting closer to you and wrapping her arms around you. "Whatever it is, it's alright. Come here." She pulls you against her chest, your ear nestling against her beating heart, as she strokes your hair and soothes you. Her touch is too much - the poorly built dam around your recent trauma breaks, and the tears come. And they come hard. You sob into Ana for one minute, then two. Five. Ten. The tears begin to slow, and she says nothing. The emotion, whatever it is, still burns within you, but you have nothing left to expel for now. Throughout it all, she continues to soothe you. Caressing your hair. Rubbing your shoulders. Her chest is wet with your tears. Soaking wet. Her skin is clammy against your cheeks.

Eventually, the tears stop. You dread looking up at her, to see your shame reflected in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Ana. I don't know what happened. I..." And then she grabs your chin, lifting it up until your eyes meet hers. There is no shame there, only worry. Love.

"It's alright, Lev. I don't know what happened. You don't have to tell me. But I'm here for you."

And then she kisses you.