Lex Luthor (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
capable_of) wrote2010-06-21 09:21 pm
capable_of) wrote2010-06-21 09:21 pm
Entry tags:
For Anatoly
When Lex had left that morning to go up to the compound for a shower and to grab some lunch, he hadn't even thought about picking up his room in Helen's hut. Sure, with Lex's obsessive streak it was tidier then most, but he wasn't so neurotic that he couldn't leave stuff out and return to put it away later. His fencing gear was stacked in the corner, ready to be cleaned and put away after his morning sparring session with Helen and a lesson with Robin as an afternoon project once he returned.
During the lesson with Robin, Lex had been hit with a wave of sentimentality of trying to teach Anatoly the basic forms once day after the Russian had asked. So a few other items had been taken out that morning and had been left to be put in their rightful place when he returned. On the small dresser, the drawing by Lucifer was spread out and on top of it was a lonely chess pieces next to two stacked wedding rings and a pair of masks, one purple and one red. The top drawer was open to reveal books about chess and of Russian poetry, next to a red t-shirt. One book of Russian poetry was laying next to the drawing, obviously well read and not only from a time spent in bed with the chicken pox. In fact, all of the items had the air about them of being often touched and looked at, well loved while being well taken care of.
They sat waiting, to be put away...or to be found.
During the lesson with Robin, Lex had been hit with a wave of sentimentality of trying to teach Anatoly the basic forms once day after the Russian had asked. So a few other items had been taken out that morning and had been left to be put in their rightful place when he returned. On the small dresser, the drawing by Lucifer was spread out and on top of it was a lonely chess pieces next to two stacked wedding rings and a pair of masks, one purple and one red. The top drawer was open to reveal books about chess and of Russian poetry, next to a red t-shirt. One book of Russian poetry was laying next to the drawing, obviously well read and not only from a time spent in bed with the chicken pox. In fact, all of the items had the air about them of being often touched and looked at, well loved while being well taken care of.
They sat waiting, to be put away...or to be found.
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And then Lex held his hand out to him and spoke in Russian and he knew that things would be right again. It might have not been those three words, but the fact that he'd admitted to the most important word of all was telling.
"I do," he answered, pulling Lex close to him and holding him tightly. There was still much more they needed to talk about, but this was enough for now. It was, if he was honest, more than he'd ever thought he'd have again.
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Finally, he pulled back slightly so he could lift his head and kiss Anatoly, sweetly and completely full of love. Because while those three words were the hardest for him to say, Lex had other ways of communicating them.