[center][h2]A N A S T A S I Y & V A L E N T I N E[/h2][/center] [center][i]collab between [@MorningStar1399] &[@shylarah][/i][/center] [INDENT]When the song ended, Anastasiy was facing the door when he bowed as if to an audience. However, it was as he stood up again that he realized something. He had company. There, hiding herself behind the door frame with a camera in her hand, was a young girl. Well, [i]young[/i] might not have been the best word, but she looked Galya’s age, and to an older brother his younger sister was young. Thus, this girl, who actually reminded him [i]of[/i] Galya in a way (shyness and appearance at least), seemed young to him. Anastasiy didn’t want to frighten her, but he was also afraid of butchering his words in English. Still, it was better to attempt than pretend he hadn’t noticed her. “Forgive me, miss, I…did not know room was being used. I can leave if you would like.” He paused. “You…are princess, no? Maybe saw you at ball. Only briefly. I...did not talk to many people and left early. Too many people. Made me nervous.” He made his way over to his bag, sitting on the floor to turn off his music and stretch out his legs after dancing so much. It was probably best he stopped anyway. He needed to get ready for brunch still. Anastasiy looked at the camera in her hands and offered a small smile. “That is nice camera. My sister, Galya, likes taking pictures. I…cannot think of English word for name of hobby. Forgive me, my speaking English is not very good. Am better at writing and reading it.” — — Valentine’s eyes widened when the man addressed her, and she took an unintended step back. She considered just leaving, but the man seemed awkward himself. This was a low-pressure opportunity to work on her own pitiful social skills. She should take it. She couldn’t quite manage a response to the question of her identity, but she did enter the room properly. “I-I...I’m sorry. No, the room’s not in use.” She spoke quietly, in a tone that would be hard to hear in a crowded room. Nor did she speak quickly, her phrases shaped as much by the spaces between them as by her tone and gentle accent. “You don’t have to leave.” Val could never displace someone else, not when they’d been there first. The thought made her hold her camera a bit tighter. “Photography, it’s called. Um...your English is fine, though.” That was all she could manage to say, and she could feel the heat of a blush rising in her cheeks. Val ducked her head, letting her hair fall in front of her face. — — She was sweet. Shy, and definitely uncomfortable, but sweet. Anastasiy couldn’t help but smile warmly as she spoke, continuing to stretch his feet and ankles. “Is okay, I should probably leave anyway, after I stretch. I have to get ready for brunch. My country needs all the…what is it called, um, pee-are? Whatever that means. My brother said it a lot before he…died. Um.” He swallowed. “But Glavnya needs trade relationships in order to boost economy again, or something else. Really boring. I would rather be dancing again.” Anastasiy sighed, pausing a moment and looking slightly stressed, before turning his head to look at the girl again. “You remind me of my sister, little bit. Small, young, shy. I too. I...I mean, [i]me[/i] too. And thank you for compliment, my…English is not as good as siblings’, dead or alive.” It was a painful thought, Anatoly’s death, and he hoped this sweet little thing didn’t know what that felt like. But he looked at her again, at her eyes, and a bit he’d learned while in ballet school, about one of the countries who’d contributed to ballet’s development, stuck in his head. Luxième had, in very recent history, somewhat torn itself apart, but their royal family was known for distinctively bright blue eyes. Their only heir was a young girl about Galya’s age. He remembered his sister talking about it once, about how she wouldn’t want all that pressure on her. [i]And to think I naively hoped she didn’t know what death and loss felt like.[/i] Anastasiy blinked, looking away slightly, then back at the camera, then at her face again. If only his French or even Luxemi was better and existed outside his usage for ballet. But looking at her, he decided suddenly switching the language might startle her and thus was grateful he couldn’t speak her mother tongue. “I…my name is Anastasiy…by what name may I call you?” Maybe not a good question, but it was a way to verify his discovery, no? And if she tried to bolt he would attempt to calm her by saying he didn’t need to know, just wanted to be polite. — — Valentine couldn’t help it. She flinched when he mentioned his dead brother, both times. It took a long moment before she found her voice again after that. She needed to change the subject back to something safe. Names were safer, but she needed more than that. “Valentine.” A short pause, then, “I watched you dancing. How long? I mean, how long have you been studying dance?” — — Anastasiy smiled. He was fairly certain the Luxemi princess had not been named Valentine, but he was still fairly certain of her identity for whatever outrageous reason. “It is nice to meet you, Valentine.” Her question led him to a long exhale. “How long…well, I…I am not anymore studying, or rather am not studying [i]anymore[/i], since last year throne was left to me after…the accident, but…I started at age of five for birthday present—[i]as[/i] birthday present—and will be twenty-five in November…so twenty years? Almost twenty years? I still practice because I miss it and wish I could dance instead of one day be tsar—instead of one day [i]becoming[/i] tsar, forgive me again, but…” Anastasiy shrugged. “My people need me. Is pitiful answer, but is only answer am given when try to ask if can dance instead of rule.” He shook his head. He looked at her camera again and thought of another change of topic (he didn’t like the thought of ruling and he figured neither did she). “Maybe one day I can see pictures of me dancing?” He held up a hand. “Not right now. I wait until you are ready. But maybe one day? I do not need to see all pictures, just ones of me dancing.” He shrugged. “Maybe I offer to buy prints of them from you, like professional…um…picture-taker person, um…” Anastasiy looked down and started to mutter to himself. “Let us see, photography, um, y-ending, so um…constonant, no, no, con[i]so[/i]nant, [i]da[/i]...” He looked up at her, brow furrowed and lips pursed in nerves and confusion. “Um, is it photographer? Photographier? No, is photographer, [i]da[/i]? Right?” — — [i]His people need him.[/i] Not hers, they just wanted to have someone there. It didn’t matter who. The Athenians and the Senate handled governing. With a wrench of thought Valentine put the matter aside. She didn’t want to think about it. Wait, he wanted to see her pictures? She instinctively pulled the camera closer to her. She was good enough for tumblr, for a freelance dabbler. But a professional? Anastasiy’s confusion over the word distracted her enough to relax her white-knuckled grip. She nodded a confirmation, even as her thoughts kept whirring. She’d watched him dancing. It was only fair to have her share in return. Wasn’t it? She looked down at her camera and pushed the buttons to bring up the picture roll. “I-I guess you can see.” A pause as she pulled the strap over her head. “I took some of the palace too.” Val held the camera out. “The arrow buttons move between pictures.” — — Anastasiy shook his head. “If you do not want me to see them just yet, I wait until you are ready.” He gave her a smile, but hesitantly held out his hand. “Are you sure you are ready now?” When the camera remained held out, he smiled and took it carefully in his much larger hands. “Thank you,” he said quietly. He looked down at the buttons and nodded. “My sister has camera like this. She takes pictures mostly of birds.” He clicked through the pictures slowly, going back when he reached the castle shots and off of his. It felt like prying, looking at any others than the ones he’d asked to look at. “These are very nice,” he said, nodding as he held the camera out for her to take back. “I like them. You are very good.” He smiled and nodded again as if in reassurance of the compliments. — — “I like birds,” Valentine ventured, glad to finally have something safe to talk about. She doubted his sister had a camera exactly the same as hers, as it was the sort of camera only someone who was serious about their photography would invest in. The folk in Athens got her photography things when they didn’t know what else to get her, part of why she had such good equipment. The rest was because of a friendship with an employee at her local store who gave her good rates for unopened items even from other places, among other things. She reclaimed her camera swiftly when it was offered, feeling a sense of relief even though she knew it had been perfectly safe in Anastasiy’s hands. She wasn’t so sure about his compliments, though she mustered a small smile, given that she’d taken the photos just to take them. She could get a better shot composition if it was earlier in the morning, or if she’d been brave enough to venture past the doorway to take the pictures. — — Anastasiy nodded, and removed his ballet slippers, rubbing the soles of his feet with his thumbs. There was still tape around his toes, but he wasn’t about to take that off in front of her. He’d do it in the shower later. He picked up his phone and nearly panicked when he saw the time. “Oh…oh dear,” he said, however contrary to his internal panic he kept his voice calm so not to startle Valentine. “I am going to be late to brunch. I had better go get ready. Cannot miss it even though I want to. My parents are expecting me to behave admirably and get it out that Glavnya is…coming back into world.” Anastasiy sighed, but put on his other flats before putting his dance shoes back in his dance bag. He stood slowly, and offered his hand for a handshake. “It was nice to meet you, Valentine,” he said. “Maybe we can become friends before time runs out?” He offered a hopeful smile. — — Valentine had little to add when Anastasiy said he needed to go. She wasn’t sure she intended to attend the brunch herself, but she wouldn’t make someone else late. The offer of a handshake was met with wide eyes, but she pried her hand free of her camera long enough to accept it. A soft sound from outside the room caught her attention. “Is that a violin?” — — Anastasiy gave her hand a gentle shake so not to frighten her off, but his head picked up at her question. His ears studied the sound, and it made him smile. He knew that sound, or at least he thought he did. It sounded too low in pitch to be a violin, but he was also far away. “I…I think it may be a cello, but I am not sure. It sounds far away. Shall we see what it really is?” Anastasiy cocked his head, putting his bag over his shoulder and offering a smile. She wouldn’t have to investigate alone if she was truly curious, and he figured that, behind her shy nature, she was a curious one. Why not indulge it a little? — — “No...you’re probably right.” Definitely too low to be a violin. She’d spoken without thinking. Valentine rather liked the idea of having someone else with her in seeking out an unknown person, but... “Y-you said...you’ll be late.” — — Anastasiy shrugged. “I will already be late no matter what. Besides, I…I play cello. Maybe it will be nice meeting other cellist or maybe violinist or violist or someone else to play accompaniment or melody.” He shrugged. “So…shall we?” — — Valentine still hesitated, but at last she nodded. However, instead of saying anything further she just made for the door. The strains of music were soft, but she’d followed quiet things before. It was how you found the animals in nature photography, when you didn’t hope they’d just come to you. At first, she paused at each intersection long enough to make sure she knew which direction the music came from before continuing on. Soon she didn’t need to, as the source drew closer. Once they’d found the room, however, Val turned shy. She slowed down, hoping Anastasiy would continue ahead and let her trail behind -- not that she could say as much. — — He followed her, watching the way she moved, her feet barely making a sound, much like his. For a moment, he wondered if that was…no, best not think of things like that. It would be better not to make assumptions about her, either. Thus, he followed along a few paces behind her, always giving her more space if he felt she needed it. When she stopped in front of the room it seemed the music was coming from, he decided to enter first, letting her enter behind him if she wanted. The girl with the cello looked [i]awfully[/i] young, but maybe she wasn’t much younger or older than Galya or Valentine. He wasn’t sure. Whoever she was, she was very good at playing the cello. He glanced over at Valentine and offered a small smile as he stood in the doorway to watch the girl play. He didn’t dare interrupt—he knew how much [i]he[/i] hated it and could only imagine how much other musicians did, too—but waited patiently, enjoying the concerto. When she was finished, he smiled and offered applause. “You are very good,” he said. “I am sorry if am interrupting, but I, too, play. Cello, that is. And…and piano. Maybe…maybe I could practice with you later? Have to get ready for brunch—lost track of time practicing ballet—but…um…” He shrugged, looking over at Valentine, who was lingering near the door, not yet brave enough to come in. She shrugged back. If there was just the two of them, maybe she’d come. She’d have to see.[/INDENT] [center][i]interacting with [@Amethyst][/i][/center]