[ breathe, slavoljub. breathe. surely anica will open the door, right? surely? not that he’s knocked yet, he’s just sort of standing there awkwardly. he’s already looked himself over about a dozen times, smoothing down his shirt, measuring how far his feet are spaced apart, setting his jaw just right, et cetera. he’s gone with a white button-up and black slacks for this occasion (and they fit! he looks much better in clothes his own size, for once!), as well as, good god, the most polished black oxfords on this side of the balkans. you can almost see your reflection in those bad boys. his tie is… purple? with a subtle shine? has he always owned that, or did he go out and buy it for the occasion? that’s up for anica to decide. he’s also gone and fixed up his hair—his face is clean and shorn of its characteristic stubble, while his hair has been spruced up with a fresh undercut and some gel. and there’s also something big and bright on his chest… a boutonniere pinned to his pocket. it’s simple, decorated with little sprigs of lily of the valley, but the flower at its center is a bright, vibrant red: a peony. is this the kind anica likes? ]
[ his hands twitch with the urge to fix his already-straightened tie, but they’re rather occupied at the moment. he’s holding… a pot? yes, a pot, its glossy, deep purple matches slavko’s tie, catching the light and nearly stealing the eye away from the contents inside. nestled there in the center is a little sapling just barely breaking through the black dirt. it may not look like much, but the savvy gardener’s eye should recognize this little spout as the beginnings of a plum tree. slavko swallows and holds the pot close to his chest as he knocks on the door. if and when anica opens it, she’ll be greeted to the immediate tumble of words from slavko’s mouth like stones in a rockslide. ]
A-Ana! Срећан рођендан. I. Hi. Hello. I hope that your day has gone well. Has it? You see, I—I. Had some sort of idea to write a note for you and. Leave it here on your doorstep. But that—that’s so… distant, isn’t it? Are we acquaintances or--or friends, comrades, companions, even, if you would like to call it that! [ he wants to die. his neck is burning. ] And. And anyway, what sort of fool would come all the way to your door and stop there without drinking in your wonderful face with his eyes? [ subtle, slavko! ]
I. Brought this. For you. [ a nod at the pot. ] It’s a plum tree. Do you like plums? I hope you like plums. It would be bad if you didn't like plums and I gave you. A plum tree. Or—ah. It will be a plum tree! She—she’s still barely a smidge of a thing, yes? I’ve been raising her. She’s from one of my trees. And, well, it’s cold. Very cold! I would hate for. For the cold to bear down on her when she’s barely out of the cradle… [ swallows. ] I hope that you like it. And I know that if… you’re the one taking care of her, then she’ll grow up strong, yes? … yes! [ clears his throat. he’s never, ever sure how to handle these things, and the sappiness of the whole display makes slavko want to dash away into a safer subject. for a moment, he does! ] This variety, ah… is purple. They're purple plums. Or—like I said, they. They will be. What a sight it will be... to see this tree with its lovely blooms and purple fruit one day, yes? [ oh god, he doesn't know why he keeps talking! ] You… like purple… right?
[ /if he had arrived any sooner, slavko would have missed her, or, she would've tapped him on the shoulder from behind. anica's feet were sore from dancing, her voice hoarse from singing. her cheeks glowed from the wine and spirits the bar staff toasted her with and her violin resigned, briefly, on the kitchen table along with her gifted bouquets. her hair had been freed from the braided crown, the flowers plucked from them, and loose curls bounced about with her steps. they flounce about as she answers the door; still in her costume, only just out of her shoes and into her softer, slip-on slippers.
when she shoos iulia back into the living room, and opens the door, she had to fight against jumping back with surprise, for some reason! her cheeks flush darker, and there is a tiny gasp, a hand over her heart and the clink of nails tapping the coins around her neck. as slavko’s spiel began, and continued, she calmed down enough for her expression to soften with the gentle tilt of her head. her woozy gaze drifts down from his eyes to the nervous quiver of his mouth, the muscle of his throat, back to his mouth. she bites back her smile.
anica needs to be directed by slavko’s nod to the pot, and her smile opens. there’s a sharp breath in as the grin reaches her eyes, and she clasped her hands together. her eyebrows knitted together, her stomach tied itself in knots! it felt like her heart somersaulted! even the pot was charming- wait, oh. oh, the boutonniere! it tickled anica that the flowers looked so good together. they always had! anica had made more than one bouquet of peonies and lilies of the valley, in fact! they worked particularly well in bridal bouquets... but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. don’t.
her hands slipped over his on the pot - partly, to stop him from dropping it - and she laughs her way into her answer: ]
I love purple! I love purple so much, I do! And plums- hah, well, you know that this will always be a popular choice, yes? This... this is wonderful. Oh, even the pot is beautiful! May I? [ /with that, she pulled the pot to her own chest. she looks down fondly. ] She is beautiful. Such a sweet little sapling. She will take root and blossom into something wonderful, like our... what did you say? Our ‘companionship’, hm? [ /she liked that metaphor very much, nodding to the sapling. her eyes flick back to slavko, and there’s a small chuckle. ]
Of course, of course, I will take good care of her, I assure you! You will need to help me decide where to plant her in the spring, yes? And help to sample the fruits of our labour, naturally. [ /anica looked back to pot, back to slavko, before taking one step over the threshold. she takes one hand to hold his face, thumb brushing against that jaw, and looks up to kiss him, twice, three times on the cheek; so her top lip finished just at the end of the scar over his eye. gently. the smile returns, pressed to his skin, when that hand drops to find one of his hands and squeeze it. she barely pulls away before a giggle rang out. ]
Vă mulțumim frumos, Ljuba, I love it. I would love it even more if you would join me for some cocoa, yes? Please? Seeing as you are here..? As you said, it is so very cold, and- hah, well, you look so handsome! Did you do this all just for silly, little me?
