Anya’s heart is still racing, a fluttering in her ribcage. The now useless fear is part of the reason for it, as is the party that still echoes through her mind. There’s a third reason and this is a reason that she won’t let herself think too much about. Especially not nights like this one, fresh from celebrating a holiday that whose singular focus is on being in love in the most over the top way.

“Thank you,” she says ducking her chin a little as she accepts the complement. Her cheeks are tinted pink from the party and the cold. A lone, long curl has escaped the confines of hairpins and hairspray to tumble across her cheek.

“I was,” she nods taking in Gleb’s appearance as she answers. It is plain to see that he was not at the party, even if she didn’t already know he wasn’t. It didn’t seem like the sort of thing that he’d choose for himself. She hadn’t brought it up to spare him any discomfort. Back at the party, she’d spent a little time looking at the gathered crowd in various rooms keeping an eye out for him on the off-chance some other friend of his had brought him. There’s no use in thinking of the faint twinge of disappointment that she’d felt. Not with him in front of her now.

The first thing she notices is how comfortable he looks, with his plaid shirt and the start of a beard. It’s a very good look on him. She might have met him while he was in uniform and seen him in his suit, but this looks more like who Gleb truly is rather than either of those.

Anya offers him a small smile. “I see that you weren’t. I don’t think you missed much. It was over the top..” There’s a pause as she gives a little shrug. “What are you doing out so late?”