pretty play

four

a/n-surprise surprise dimitris pov 🙃

dimitri

"i want you to be honest with me nadia, do i have a son?"

i hear her sigh and she hesitates before whispering" Я не хотел говорить тебе по телефону." and that's all i need to hear.
(i didn't want to tell you over the phone.)

i hear her whispering to someone in the background, followed by a door closing and complete silence.

"dimitri?" she asks, probably wondering if i'm still here.

"what's he like?" i whisper.

"he's amazing, he's so smart and perfect. he's stubborn, like you." she says, i can hear the smile and love in her voice when she says that.

"is he strong?"

"he's so strong, dimitri. so strong. and he loves hockey." she says, but it's sounds sad.

pride fills me hearing the last part of her sentence, and we sit there for awhile, unsure of what to say.

"what's his name?" i finally ask and i hear a sob that comes from her end.

"rowan, his name is rowan. or рябина." she answers.
(rowan)

the memories from our college years together come back to me. and i remember her always saying that if she had a son, his name would be rowan.

i chuckle, "rowan, huh?"

she laughs quietly, but it's followed by a sniffle.

"i like it." i finish and i can practically see her smile.

the oddly comforting silence is broken when i hear a tiny voice come through the other end.

"Мама, почему ты плачешь?" and i know it's him.
(mama, why you cry?)

my son.

"he speaks russi-" i'm about to ask before she cuts me off with a sharp, "i have to go."

and then she hangs up.

i set the phone down on the bench besides me, rubbing my palms on my face.

my teammate and friend, connor, slaps my shoulder and asks "what's up?" as he walks by me and begins to put his gear on.

"nothing, just some unexpected stuff i'm dealing with." i answer and he nods, accepting the answer.

we have a game tomorrow, and coach has requested us to come in and practice this morning. sighing, i tie my skates and i head out to the ice, the only place where i can clear my mind.

"fuck!" i yell for what seems like the thirtieth time as i miss my shot once again.

connor comes up from behind me, "dude, it's okay." he says and skates off, practicing his stick handling.

the team practices for an hour longer and coach calls the quits, sending the majority of us home, and a few to the team's doctor.