A loud car horn and an angry shout startled them awake.
Ani lifted her head and stared down at Igor, horrified as she remembered where she was. She let out a whispered, "Fuck!" and scrambled off his lap into the passenger's seat as he pulled himself upright again. He fumbled to cover himself quickly, pulling at his underwear and jeans.
She straightened her skirt and pulled her jacket back on. She flipped down the vanity mirror and wiped away as much of the smudged eyeliner as she could before flipping it back up and staring straight ahead, avoiding his gaze.
Igor waved an apology in the rearview mirror to the car waiting behind them and pulled forward out of the way. They gave him a judgemental scowl as they passed, having seen Anora crawl out of his lap.
Igor noticed the gas gauge was down to less than a quarter of a tank. It had been over half when they fell asleep. "How long did ve sleep?" It was completely dark now. Igor checked his watch and saw it was just after 6.
Anora scoffed and asked quietly, "How the fuck should I know? Why didn't you wake me up, you pervert?"
"What?" he asked, indignant, "I'm not pervert. Just wanted let you sleep."
"Whateva." She grabbed her red backpack, pushed the door open, stepped out and slammed it behind her. Igor watched her climb the steps, wondering if he should go after her. What could he even say?
He just didn't want it to end with her hating him. He watched and waited as she struggled with the key then heard, "Fuckin' piece of shit!" as she kicked the door.
He took a deep breath, turned the ignition off and stepped out. He stood and waited at the base of the steps, watching her get more and more pissed off, then slowly climbed them again. Ani whipped her head to the side to glare at him, "What the fuck do you want?"
He held his open hand out to her silently. She gave an exasperated sigh then pulled the key out of the stubborn lock and dropped it in his hand.
She stepped back and crossed her arms over her chest trying to seem just angry rather than frozen by the wind and falling snow. She hoped he'd fail too, even though she desperately wanted in the house. On the second attempt he got the key to turn and pushed the door open, then stood back, waiting.
She narrowed her eyes at him, "You broken into my house before, you fuckin' stalker?" It comforted her to remind him he was a bad person who did bad things and it comforted Igor that she was insulting him again.
"I'm not stalker. Just more patient zan you," He told her matter-of-factly, trying not to smile, and she glowered up at him.
He glanced down at her bags and asked timidly, "You want I take zem in?"
Anora paused, looked from him to the heavy bags, then sighed, "You can put 'em in the hall." She walked through the door. Igor picked up the suitcases and obediently headed in after her.
She felt a little better that she could still treat him like a servant even though she hadn't succeeded at marrying into the family that employed him. It was also a good way to put distance between them again and pretend what had just happened between them, hadn't happened.
No one was home. She hadn't told her sister she'd be gone longer than that first week, much less that she'd gotten married, but her sister never called to check on her when she didn't show up either. Ani would never mention it to Vera. They didn't ask each other questions unless the rent was late anyway.
She closed the door and set her backpack down on the kitchen counter, looked around the cold house. She took a deep, faltering breath at the state of the place and thought of how it would be once Igor left, once she was really alone. She felt herself about to tear up again and swallowed it down.
Igor set the suitcases at the end of the hall and wondered which of the closed doors was hers.
She paused, knowing it was a bad idea as soon as the intrusive thought crossed her mind, but she couldn't stop herself.
She called down the hall, "You want coffee?" She squeezed her eyes shut, immediately regretting it.
He turned back and peeked around the corner at her, completely taken off guard, "чай?"
She frowned at him as he came back in, "Do I look like I drink fuckin' tea, motherfucker?"
He shrugged, an embarrassed but hopeful smile crossing his lips, "Ok, кофе." He thought it was pretty late for coffee, but he wasn't going to refuse her invitation.
She turned her back to him and pulled the coffee from the kitchen cupboard.
He slowly made his way over to the living room, afraid he'd make another wrong move and be sent away just as quickly as she'd decided to be kind to him again.
He glanced around and tried to guess what things were hers but it was hard. He wanted to find clues about who she really was, but he didn't find anything that represented Anora to him here.
A train rattled by as he studied the room. Finally Anora brought two cups over.
"There's no milk," She said in a flat tone as if she resented the decision to be polite to him and was trying to make up for it.
He nodded, "Спасибо," and carefully took the mug from her before moving back and sitting down in the armchair.
She took a seat on the sofa across from him. They sipped their coffee silently, Anora refusing to look at him, Igor discreetly observing her. He thought she still looked exhausted, even after the long, awkward car nap. He wished he had a cigarette but didn't dare ask.
YOU ARE READING
Anora and Igor
FanfictionA continuation from the last scene of Anora. What might happen after Anora breaks down in tears on Igor's lap?
