Post by tingrin on Aug 29, 2006 13:51:11 GMT -5
Piotr's shower took next to no time at all. Deciding what to wear took noticeably longer - yet another unusual thing for the big man. Normally it was a clean t-shirt and jeans. But he felt the urge to make an effort, so dug out a shirt that was hanging in the wardrobe. It was somewhat old-fashioned and didn't really suit him, but he felt that he should at least try.
He shaved carefully and splashed on a little after shave and felt
strangely excited. The opportunity to spend an afternoon with someone
who spoke his native language was very appealing indeed.
After her walk with Sy, Oracle breezed through her room, brushing out
her long hair to hang loose and putting on an extra piece of jewelry- a sapphire teardrop on a silver chain, brilliant blue and sparkling. It was quite an expensive piece by American standards, but one of the gifts she'd received in her travels between home and here. With a sigh and a smile to herself in the mirror, she stepped quick and light down the staircase to wait for him.
He wasn’t particularly long after her, his tread on the staircase noticeably louder and less genteel than hers had been. There was a big smile on his honest face when he saw her, though and it was a genuine smile.
“You look lovely,” he said, with such simple honesty that it couldn’t be disputed that he meant what he said and that it wasn’t just an empty compliment. “It is a little distance to the town, so we could take one of the cars.” He puffed up a little. “I recently learned to drive and have my license. There are cars that the students are allowed to use.”
Sibylinka laughed softly at his sweetness and pride. He was so open, it was absolutely refreshing. "I'd like that. You know I haven't learned to drive yet... You should teach me."
She hooked her arm in his. "And a beautiful day outside. You know,
everyone here is so nice. I've made two friends and I've only been here a single day."
“People make friends easily here. Everyone is in the same boat, so to speak. Many people here are not used to that. Some are sent here by parents who wish to help them, some, like me, are approached by the Professor directly, some come here of their own accord…but at the core, we are all very much the same.”
He led her down to the garage where an assortment of vehicles sat awaiting use. He selected a half-decent saloon that was big enough to allow for the length of his legs and courteously held the door open for her.
Sibyl giggled a little as she got in, tucking her skirt under her long legs. She waited for him to sit in the driver's seat and shut the door, looking around her.
"So expansive..." she murmured.
"We're all very much the same, but so different at the same time. You for example. You are not... jaded is the word, I think. Rough around your edges. Or are you just being nice for me?" She teased, smiling.
As Piotr carefully drove the car out of the garage, he considered her words. “I was raised in a community where respect and manners are very important. To say we were poor sounds a little odd, but we did not have much money other than that we made from farm produce. You learn to appreciate what you have. No, I am not jaded. There have been things – and people – that have made me almost become so in the past months, however.”
He manoeuvred the car through the traffic for a while.
“I do not think it does anybody good to become cynical and – as you say – jaded.”
"It is a different life I suppose. I grew up with very little money, but I learned so very quickly never to trust a stranger." She looked out her window as they pulled out onto the drive. She didn't look sad so much as thoughtful.
"Don't you ever feel you should be wary to trust, Piotr?" She looked back to him. "Do you think perhaps it is your strength that keeps you from being afraid?"
“I realise that my major flaw is that I believe everyone has the same values as myself,” he said, glancing briefly at her. “That is why it hurts so when I discover they do not.”
The drive to town was a short one and the row of shops and restaurants where the good coffee shop was located had easy parking. The big man hurried round to open Sibyl’s door for her.
She touched his arm while stepping out, smelling the spring air. "It is like being a Princess," she said, looking in the windows of the coffee shop.
As he joined her she leaned back on the door, the bells rang their entry against the wood frame and she blushed, realizing her smile for him was a bit too bright, a bit too enamoured. Again, what woman could help herself?
"Do you do this sort of thing often? Go out for coffee, I mean."
“I come here a lot on my own,” he said. “I sit in the corner and I draw. So many people come through those doors, and I love to draw people.” Indeed, the young woman who showed them to a free table clearly recognised him and bestowed a warm smile on them both. “But I do not often come here with anybody else.”
Sibyl watched the waitress with badly concealed interest, having a seat. Her pale fingertips drew curlicues on the tabletop, and she looked around with a soft smile on her face.
Then her shell pink eyes turned to him again.
She didn't say anything at first, just admiring the locale, it's smells and colours, and the good looking man who'd brought her here. Her adopted father wouldn't approve in a hundred years of this little outing - so it was good he wasn't here. At that thought, she broke out in a whispery laugh, and blushed.
Unsure why she was laughing, Piotr smiled nonetheless as he scanned the menu. “They do good cakes here, too,” he said, hopefully, remembering that the time he’d taken Kitty out she’d mentioned dieting and the like. “Would you like one?”
He glanced up at her with a smile. He felt so relaxed in her company. Perhaps it was as simple as the shared heritage. Whatever it was, he was glad it was there.
"Ooooh, what kind?" she lapsed into Russian once more, leaning over the menu. It was so rare she was able to relax into the language of her birth. "Dessert and coffee go together perfectly. I have a tendency towards those sorts of luxuries. People don't appreciate them like they should, don't you think?" She cleared her throat as she realized she was babbling.
“Most assuredly,” he said, eager to share his love of all things sweet and delicious with someone else. He indicated a lemon and lime cheesecake that was his particular favourite, but selected a chocolate concoction for himself. If they had two, he reasoned, they could try a little of each others.
The coffee and cake was delivered in due order, and it was as delicious as Piotr had promised.
She chose a slice of raspberry cheesecake, loving the way those two flavors went together. Her thin fingers curled around the coffee cup and she hummed pleasantly to herself.
With a smile and a short chuckle, she offered her cup out towards him. "To new friends.."
He raised his own cup back at her. “To new beginnings.”
He felt so comfortable in her presence. He didn’t have to try, somehow, to be someone he wasn’t good at being. With Sibylinka, he could be Piotr, not Peter. It made a massive difference to him.
Taking a long sip, she sat back with a sigh.
"I want to know about you," she began. "Everything you can stand to tell me." It was quite an admission, but then, it had been quite a day.
"So you have a sister, and did you say a brother? And both your parents are still alive. You grew on farming... Did you go to school at home?"
“Da,” he said. “Mikhail, my older brother was sadly killed in an accident though, so now it is just myself and Illyana. There was a man in the community who was a teacher at one time; he took all the children under his wing and taught them to read and write and understand basic numbers. I was always interested in learning more though, as is my sister.”
He took a sip of his coffee.
“My parents are…elderly,” he said, after thinking of the word he could use to best describe them. “And my father’s health is beginning to fail.” His expression became a little harder. “I worry for them every day.”
Sibyl tilted her head a bit. "And you've been here for a while...They've taught you more I suppose." She nodded.
"I can imagine it's a conflict. It would be for anyone even if their parents were here, but yours are so far away. You must grow sick with worry." She shook her head.
"But you know they are happiest knowing you have this future ahead of you with the X-Men. Don't you think?" She reached out and touched his hand comfortingly.
He nodded, his expression a little grim. “I understand this. And yet it does not make it any easier. But it is for their sake that I remain. Although…perhaps I should consider returning for a brief visit. Two, three weeks, maybe. Yet how could I leave them again?” He sipped again at his coffee. “The conflict is a difficult one.”
Sibyl found herself giving him a look that was downright maternal. "Now why would that be a reason not to go?" She shook her head, smiling again, and nodded to the waitress as their desserts arrived.
"Though you can't go soon." She said it with a haughty sort of tease in her voice, taking the very tip of her cheesecake onto the end of her fork. "Because I just got here and I don't know what I'd do if you
left." Tasting the cake, it was clear by her expression what she thought of it. A sip of coffee washed over her tongue and she sighed. "Oh Piotr. You HAVE to try this."
He was about to take a bite of his own chocolate cake, but set down his fork. “I will try yours first,” he said. “The chocolate taste will overpower it otherwise.” Rather shyly, he accepted it from her fork and his blue eyes lit up with pleasure. “That is delicious,” he enthused. “You chose well, Sybil.”
Piotr took a big chunk of his own chocolate cake happily. He adored these moments of sheer indulgence and made no secret of the fact.
Sibyl laughed happily. There was something adorable about a big man
easily enjoying himself over something so small.
Looking around them again, she sipped her coffee and smiled to herself. Things were going just about perfectly.
He shaved carefully and splashed on a little after shave and felt
strangely excited. The opportunity to spend an afternoon with someone
who spoke his native language was very appealing indeed.
After her walk with Sy, Oracle breezed through her room, brushing out
her long hair to hang loose and putting on an extra piece of jewelry- a sapphire teardrop on a silver chain, brilliant blue and sparkling. It was quite an expensive piece by American standards, but one of the gifts she'd received in her travels between home and here. With a sigh and a smile to herself in the mirror, she stepped quick and light down the staircase to wait for him.
He wasn’t particularly long after her, his tread on the staircase noticeably louder and less genteel than hers had been. There was a big smile on his honest face when he saw her, though and it was a genuine smile.
“You look lovely,” he said, with such simple honesty that it couldn’t be disputed that he meant what he said and that it wasn’t just an empty compliment. “It is a little distance to the town, so we could take one of the cars.” He puffed up a little. “I recently learned to drive and have my license. There are cars that the students are allowed to use.”
Sibylinka laughed softly at his sweetness and pride. He was so open, it was absolutely refreshing. "I'd like that. You know I haven't learned to drive yet... You should teach me."
She hooked her arm in his. "And a beautiful day outside. You know,
everyone here is so nice. I've made two friends and I've only been here a single day."
“People make friends easily here. Everyone is in the same boat, so to speak. Many people here are not used to that. Some are sent here by parents who wish to help them, some, like me, are approached by the Professor directly, some come here of their own accord…but at the core, we are all very much the same.”
He led her down to the garage where an assortment of vehicles sat awaiting use. He selected a half-decent saloon that was big enough to allow for the length of his legs and courteously held the door open for her.
Sibyl giggled a little as she got in, tucking her skirt under her long legs. She waited for him to sit in the driver's seat and shut the door, looking around her.
"So expansive..." she murmured.
"We're all very much the same, but so different at the same time. You for example. You are not... jaded is the word, I think. Rough around your edges. Or are you just being nice for me?" She teased, smiling.
As Piotr carefully drove the car out of the garage, he considered her words. “I was raised in a community where respect and manners are very important. To say we were poor sounds a little odd, but we did not have much money other than that we made from farm produce. You learn to appreciate what you have. No, I am not jaded. There have been things – and people – that have made me almost become so in the past months, however.”
He manoeuvred the car through the traffic for a while.
“I do not think it does anybody good to become cynical and – as you say – jaded.”
"It is a different life I suppose. I grew up with very little money, but I learned so very quickly never to trust a stranger." She looked out her window as they pulled out onto the drive. She didn't look sad so much as thoughtful.
"Don't you ever feel you should be wary to trust, Piotr?" She looked back to him. "Do you think perhaps it is your strength that keeps you from being afraid?"
“I realise that my major flaw is that I believe everyone has the same values as myself,” he said, glancing briefly at her. “That is why it hurts so when I discover they do not.”
The drive to town was a short one and the row of shops and restaurants where the good coffee shop was located had easy parking. The big man hurried round to open Sibyl’s door for her.
She touched his arm while stepping out, smelling the spring air. "It is like being a Princess," she said, looking in the windows of the coffee shop.
As he joined her she leaned back on the door, the bells rang their entry against the wood frame and she blushed, realizing her smile for him was a bit too bright, a bit too enamoured. Again, what woman could help herself?
"Do you do this sort of thing often? Go out for coffee, I mean."
“I come here a lot on my own,” he said. “I sit in the corner and I draw. So many people come through those doors, and I love to draw people.” Indeed, the young woman who showed them to a free table clearly recognised him and bestowed a warm smile on them both. “But I do not often come here with anybody else.”
Sibyl watched the waitress with badly concealed interest, having a seat. Her pale fingertips drew curlicues on the tabletop, and she looked around with a soft smile on her face.
Then her shell pink eyes turned to him again.
She didn't say anything at first, just admiring the locale, it's smells and colours, and the good looking man who'd brought her here. Her adopted father wouldn't approve in a hundred years of this little outing - so it was good he wasn't here. At that thought, she broke out in a whispery laugh, and blushed.
Unsure why she was laughing, Piotr smiled nonetheless as he scanned the menu. “They do good cakes here, too,” he said, hopefully, remembering that the time he’d taken Kitty out she’d mentioned dieting and the like. “Would you like one?”
He glanced up at her with a smile. He felt so relaxed in her company. Perhaps it was as simple as the shared heritage. Whatever it was, he was glad it was there.
"Ooooh, what kind?" she lapsed into Russian once more, leaning over the menu. It was so rare she was able to relax into the language of her birth. "Dessert and coffee go together perfectly. I have a tendency towards those sorts of luxuries. People don't appreciate them like they should, don't you think?" She cleared her throat as she realized she was babbling.
“Most assuredly,” he said, eager to share his love of all things sweet and delicious with someone else. He indicated a lemon and lime cheesecake that was his particular favourite, but selected a chocolate concoction for himself. If they had two, he reasoned, they could try a little of each others.
The coffee and cake was delivered in due order, and it was as delicious as Piotr had promised.
She chose a slice of raspberry cheesecake, loving the way those two flavors went together. Her thin fingers curled around the coffee cup and she hummed pleasantly to herself.
With a smile and a short chuckle, she offered her cup out towards him. "To new friends.."
He raised his own cup back at her. “To new beginnings.”
He felt so comfortable in her presence. He didn’t have to try, somehow, to be someone he wasn’t good at being. With Sibylinka, he could be Piotr, not Peter. It made a massive difference to him.
Taking a long sip, she sat back with a sigh.
"I want to know about you," she began. "Everything you can stand to tell me." It was quite an admission, but then, it had been quite a day.
"So you have a sister, and did you say a brother? And both your parents are still alive. You grew on farming... Did you go to school at home?"
“Da,” he said. “Mikhail, my older brother was sadly killed in an accident though, so now it is just myself and Illyana. There was a man in the community who was a teacher at one time; he took all the children under his wing and taught them to read and write and understand basic numbers. I was always interested in learning more though, as is my sister.”
He took a sip of his coffee.
“My parents are…elderly,” he said, after thinking of the word he could use to best describe them. “And my father’s health is beginning to fail.” His expression became a little harder. “I worry for them every day.”
Sibyl tilted her head a bit. "And you've been here for a while...They've taught you more I suppose." She nodded.
"I can imagine it's a conflict. It would be for anyone even if their parents were here, but yours are so far away. You must grow sick with worry." She shook her head.
"But you know they are happiest knowing you have this future ahead of you with the X-Men. Don't you think?" She reached out and touched his hand comfortingly.
He nodded, his expression a little grim. “I understand this. And yet it does not make it any easier. But it is for their sake that I remain. Although…perhaps I should consider returning for a brief visit. Two, three weeks, maybe. Yet how could I leave them again?” He sipped again at his coffee. “The conflict is a difficult one.”
Sibyl found herself giving him a look that was downright maternal. "Now why would that be a reason not to go?" She shook her head, smiling again, and nodded to the waitress as their desserts arrived.
"Though you can't go soon." She said it with a haughty sort of tease in her voice, taking the very tip of her cheesecake onto the end of her fork. "Because I just got here and I don't know what I'd do if you
left." Tasting the cake, it was clear by her expression what she thought of it. A sip of coffee washed over her tongue and she sighed. "Oh Piotr. You HAVE to try this."
He was about to take a bite of his own chocolate cake, but set down his fork. “I will try yours first,” he said. “The chocolate taste will overpower it otherwise.” Rather shyly, he accepted it from her fork and his blue eyes lit up with pleasure. “That is delicious,” he enthused. “You chose well, Sybil.”
Piotr took a big chunk of his own chocolate cake happily. He adored these moments of sheer indulgence and made no secret of the fact.
Sibyl laughed happily. There was something adorable about a big man
easily enjoying himself over something so small.
Looking around them again, she sipped her coffee and smiled to herself. Things were going just about perfectly.