So That's What Love Is

[Spoo]

Hi, everyone! Here we have a wonderful co-written story by the lovely PurpleRawrz and myself. For those of you who have not seen The Last Station, I highly recommend it. You can catch a few previews (and sneezy clips) in this very thread on the forum.

I'll be updating this story whenever another segment is ready. Until then, we hope you enjoy an awkward, skittish, sneezy secretary and his lover girlfriend crush Masha.

So That's What Love Is

by PurpleRawrz and Spoo

In all honesty, Valentin couldn't remember sleeping so awkwardly since the first night of his arrival.

On any other occasion he fell asleep with great ease and very little effort, but for whatever reason he failed to do so the evening before. He was periodically awoken by a soreness in his throat that wouldn't be quelled by a drink of water. If that wasn't unfortunate enough, an unknown disturbance in his chest had him coughing every so often. When he eventually awoke the next morning he was fairly unrested and unwell.

Voices from outside reached his ears, letting him know that the work for the day had already begun. He himself was scheduled to meet with Vladimir Chertkov later that morning, but for now Valentin wanted to focus on pulling himself together. He was already uneasy about the meeting itself; he didn't need to be bothered by the potential deterioration of his health.

He would have begun pulling on his clothes, but he found his energy rather lacking at the moment. His head was heavy when he attempted to stand, causing him to feel a bit dizzy. He ultimately settled for sitting on the edge of the bed in his nightshirt, palms flat, trying to convince himself there wasn't anything wrong with him.

Whether it was truly sickness or the nervousness he felt from the sheer possibility of being under the weather, the young man felt a deep, unsettling tickle abruptly ignite in his nose. As a commonly practiced precaution, he quickly pinched his nostrils shut, counted to ten, and then released them. He sighed in the aftermath and rubbed at his face.

He couldn't be ill. There was simply no time for it.

Outside of Valentin's room, Masha paused with a tray of tea and jam balanced in her hands. It had become somewhat of a morning ritual of theirs - she would bring him tea, and they would start the day together. Each morning they spent more time with one another, each day's moments sweeter than the last. Partly because of the jam, but mostly because of the company.

Masha couldn't get over his wide-eyed innocence and unavoidable honesty that was just part of his personality. Valentin was shy, adorable, and full of little quirks; some she had yet to understand. And his eyes were so open, so blue, so eager to see the world.

Three soft knocks.

It was their "code" of sorts, her way of letting Valentin know that it was her. She waited for him to reply and couldn't help smiling as she heard him stumble around behind the closed door.

"J-just a moment!" Valentin called, scrambling to put something decent on.

It was true that he and Masha had shared themselves in the most intimate way possible, but there was still a bit of an humiliating aspect of her seeing him in his nightshirt. Once the embarrassed man had thrown on a pair of trousers, he cleared his throat and walked to the door.

Opening it, he stood nearly face to face with the woman. "Good morning," he greeted, offering her a tight smile.

His posture was a tad straighter than normal, as well as his overall behavioral pattern. He didn't wish to reveal that he didn't feel well. If he did, he would risk worrying Masha. He wouldn't have that.

"Good morning," she replied, closing the door shut with her foot and carefully placing the tray on his desk, which was cluttered with various papers and diaries.

Masha smiled.

Valentin and his diaries. He was almost always writing in at least one of them in whatever spare time he could find. He was so passionate about the details, and she felt as though she could spend hours just watching him write.

Masha looked down at the floor for just a moment, brushing her short blonde hair behind her ears. And then, without even the slightest bit of hesitation, she leaned forwards and embraced his lips in hers.

Valentin was still quite new to the idea of expressing affection so openly.

Technically, they were out of sight and within the privacy of his room, but he couldn't help but feel exposed. Of course, it didn't help that he feared he might have been passing on his germs to Masha.

It was why he broke the kiss quickly and looked away, trying to act as normal as possible.

"I…I hope that you slept well," he said, glancing towards the tray she brought in. Tea and jam as always.

"Very well, thank you."

Something was up; Masha could tell. She stared into his bright blue eyes and maintained eye contact, hoping to get whatever it was out of him.

"And you? How was your sleep?"

Valentin found that looking Masha in the eye was ridiculously hard for some reason. It was as if she saw right through him, straight down to his anxiety-ridden core. It made him…well, it made him…nervous.

His nose twitched.

"Wonderful, thank you," he managed to lie as he turned to the tray. "Shall we?"

His hands shook slightly as he went about pouring them a glass of tea, careful not to spill any onto his diaries. He handed Masha one of the glasses and then kept one for himself. The soothing liquid was a blessing against his sore throat, easing the discomfort.

The wafting steam, however, played with his already sensitive sinuses.

Masha sipped at her tea, still trying to keep eye contact with Valentin, who still wouldn't look back. It was funny almost, how well she knew Valentin. After all, they hadn't known each other for much longer than a month, when he had first arrived at Telyatinki.

She took the spoon from his trembling hand and intertwined her fingers within his. "Are you alright, Valya?

He was most certainly not alright, thank you kindly, but that wasn't something he wished to admit. Masha's hand was warm and lovely, while his own hand was cool and damp. Honestly, he was surprised she wasn't repulsed by it.

"Fine, just a bit…"

Uneasy. Awkward. Uncomfortable.

"…Anxious," he eventually concluded. "I'm scheduled to meet with Chertkov this afternoon."

It wasn't necessarily a problem, but given how things had been rather tense as of late, Valentin couldn't be certain. The paranoia of the upcoming event combined with the poor way he was feeling swirled together to put off the skittish secretary.

He squeezed Masha's hand within his own, seeking an almost childish comfort within her.

"Anxious? Oh, don't be anxious, Valya. Chertkov isn't worth the worrying."

But Valentin looked so tense.

Stroking his face with her free hand, and without giving him time to reply, Masha leaned in to press her lips against his once again.

This time, Valentin saw the kiss coming. He might have stayed put, allowing their lips to touch, but a poorly timed reaction occurred before he had the chance to stop it.

Just as their mouths nearly became one, he snapped his head to the side and clutched at his nose as though it were a lifeline.

"Hhh'NGk'xt!"

He managed to smother the sneeze into a pinched squelch of a sound. Releasing Masha's hand, he walked over to the nightstand beside his bed and clumsily fumbled for a handkerchief within the drawer. He didn't release his nose until the white cloth was clamped over the lower portion of his flushing face.

"Excuse me," he apologized, his voice muffled through the handkerchief.

"God bless you..." Masha responded slowly, not sure how else to reply.

One of Valentin's many quirks was his frequent sneezing, which she didn't mind, but certainly questioned internally.

She frowned, turning to face Valentin, who had buried his face in a handkerchief and seemed to be blushing furiously. Now seemed like a decent enough opportunity to ask - anything that could distract him from the meeting with Chertkov.

"Are you allergic to anything, Valentin?" she asked, stirring a spoonful of jam into her tea.

Once again, she stared directly into his eyes.

"Not that I know of," Valentin replied, wiping the underside of his nose before he pulled the handkerchief away. "I suffered from occasional hayfever as a boy, but I eventually grew out of it."

There was an explanation for his sneezing. He knew what it was. Yet, there was also another reason now - the very same reason that had his nose wrinkling as the buzzing tickle returned. He was grateful he had a handkerchief within his possession; it came in handy when he jerked it back up to his face, bending forward in yet another outburst.

"Huh'PTCHShhhh!"

That one, unfortunately, couldn't be tamed. An apology was already blooming on his tongue, ready to be sputtered out, but it appeared his nose enjoyed making a fool out of him. For the third time in less than a minute, he succumbed to a sneeze.

"Hupt'CHSSHhiiiish!"

At this point, his entire face was aflame with mortification as he snuffled wetly. He was nervous, yes, but he was also ill. There was no point denying that fact now.

Masha shook her head and placed her glass of tea back on the tray.

"God bless you again."

Valentin was clearly embarrassed beyond reason, and she couldn't help smiling at the emotion written all over his face. She was very much used to this "quirk," and the relentless apologies that followed, but she was still a little puzzled.

"If I were a doctor, I would suggest that you haven't grown out of it. Unless there is something else. Perhaps it's safe to assume you've caught a cold? Though, this would seem like a long time to have a cold..."

She frowned and walked across the tiny room, placing the back of her hand on his hot, clammy forehead.

"Valentin! You have a fever! Why didn't you tell me you were unwell?"

"I didn't want to worry you," he replied, leaning into the cool reprieve that was the back of her hand. "It's nothing, though. Just a bit of a cold. I'll be fine."

He lowered the handkerchief from his nose. The sneezes seemed to have been the welcoming party for the congestion that gradually began to flood his sinuses.

He sniffled. "Masha, I have to get dressed. Properly."

Valentin glanced down at the nightshirt that was half-tucked into his trousers. With a sigh, and another thick sniff, he walked over to his dresser and searched for something clean to wear.

"Thank you for the tea."

Masha smiled, though traces of concern were still evident on her face.

'Thank you for the tea' was Valentin's daily phrase; his way of saying, 'I must get going.' She turned back to the tray on his desk, dipping the spoon in the jam jar once more, and then paused.

"I'm sure you'll be fine, but I think you should have Dushan take a look at you, Valya. He'll have the time, and I don't want to see you any more ill than you already are."

She headed back across the room towards a disheveled and deflated looking Valentin.

"Is Chertkov travelling to Yasnaya Polyana or are you going to the headquarters?"

Valentin cleared his throat (the sneezes had scratched at it a bit) and then provided Masha with an answer.

"He's traveling to us," he replied, setting out a fresh dress shirt.

He could only hope their meeting would be brief so that he could return to the dormitories and rest. The last thing he wanted to do was be around Tolstoy himself and risk infecting the already ill man. Before he went about dressing, he looked up at the woman he was steadily growing fonder of. She really was beautiful. Far more beautiful than any other female Valentin had ever laid eyes on.

For her sake, he smiled.

"I will be fine, Masha."

Masha couldn't help but return the smile. He was so sweet.

"Of course," she assured him, gathering the tray from his desk. "Do dress warmly, now."

She leaned forward to place a soft kiss on the tip of his flushed nose.

"And be well," she said sternly, though the smile grew larger as she turned away from Valentin and exited the cozy room.

She paused just outside the door once more. There was something about him that made her feel complete. She had been daring and bold for most of her life; never minding the rules; barely dancing within the guidelines thrown at her.

But Valentin made her feel...what was it, exactly? Responsible? Perhaps a bit more subdued than her nature had been for so long. He was so gentle, so shy. She was completely the opposite.

They belonged together.

TBC.

Edited December 20, 2011 by Spoo

[SterlingSilver]

SPOOOOOOOO~! You and Purple did an INCREDIBLE job . SO cute~.. You captured him PERFECTLY . I love it~~~ Can't wait for the next part.

Seriously, you two are dynamite xD. Loooooove <3

[Dusty15]

Um, STOP IT! This is so friggin cute, I can barely handle it

Spoo, Purple....I can barely contain myself! A sneezy man made even more sneezy? I can't wait to see him even more nervous at his meeting....oh the sneezes! <3

[Purple]

A sneezy man made even more sneezy? I can't wait to see him even more nervous at his meeting....oh the sneezes! <3

Heehee, Dusty. Your reaction was fabulous.

Oh, just you wait. I have a feeling we aren't going to be all that kind to poor Valentin and his nose...

[MusicaDiabolos]

OMG just in time for Christmas...your Valentin is adorable!!!! You should experiment with his anxiety-induced sneezes as well, those are my favourite

[Spoo]

Thank you for the love, guys! It makes us smile and encourages us to write even MORE of this super fun story. Here we have part 2, which was a tad difficult to write because Valentin wasn't feeling his best. The poor dear.

Please enjoy!

So That's What Love Is

by PurpleRawrz and Spoo

Part 2

There was a time that existed where Valentin could sit and listen to Vladimir Grigoryevich Chertkov speak for hours. He would hang onto each word, each sentence, each moving empowerment that had the young man practically siting on the edge of his seat.

Now, however, it seemed circumstances had changed.

Valentin knew that he had been tainted along the way (in more ways than one, he feared), but it shoved quite a few truths into perspective. He couldn't help but feel that Chertkov's methods were rather meticulous and that, heaven forbid, his views were askew.

Living with Tolstoy over the past month, as well as spending quality time with the man himself, had shown Valentin that things were not what they seemed, and that things seemed what they were not.

In spite of everything, Valentin tried to stay positive and determined. Although, that wasn't the easiest thing to do when he felt so absolutely wretched. He was doing his best to remain alert and focused as Chertkov continued to speak about his concerns, all while desperately hoping his nose would stay quiet.

"Now, Valentin Fyodorovich," the older man said, reaching for the ever present tin of moustache wax he had placed on Valentin's writing desk. "It has come to my attention that you have been spending a fair amount of time with a Maria Filipovna back at Telyatynki."

Chertkov looked up from his tin of wax, to the young man in front of him.

"Sergeyenko has informed me that perhaps she is not to be a trusted member of the movement. What can you tell me about her?"

An uncomfortable pause filled the room for a brief moment.

"She is…" Valentin began, but then paused and cleared his throat. His voice nearly gave out on him, mostly from the nerves that were accelerating his pulse and dampening his palms.

He had intended to keep all relations between himself and Masha as discreet as possible, but it seemed he had failed somewhere along the line.

"She is a dedicated worker," he continued. "And she's very inspired by the movement."

Valentin's fingers curled into his lap; he was ridiculously uncomfortable. His anxiety bubbled in the pit of his stomach and reached up to consume his head, sending invisible tickling tendrils straight down into his nasal passages.

He began to breathe very carefully, as if doing so would ward away the inevitable.

Vladimir Grigoryevich had grown accustomed to Valentin's presence in the movement. He was almost used to the way the boy's emotions were, perhaps inadvertently, broadcasted across his face for all to see; he had an anxious presence that he seemed to be struggling to tame at this very moment.

The second Maria Filipovna's name had been spoken aloud, it became clear to Chertkov that the unsettled individual in front of him and the mentioned woman had a relationship that had long surpassed a subtle friendship.

And considering Valentin's position within the movement, that was perfectly unacceptable.

"You may recall the concerns I placed forth the day you acquired this job, Valentin. I'm also certain you can recall Lev Nikolayevich's views on sexual relations. You assured me this would not be a problem for you, but my dear boy, it seems as if it may be."

He paused, considering his next words.

"Now what say you to that?"

What could he say to that was the true question at hand. Valentin was no longer a virgin, and therefore no longer eligible for the position that had originally been assigned to him. Of course, that wasn't something he intended to admit aloud sitting before Chertkov.

"I can assure you that..."

The itch in his nose suddenly grew unbearable. His eyes watered as a result of his admirable attempt to stave off the reaction, but he found any and all defenses rapidly crumbling. He was far too nervous.

"Hh..!"

Valentin managed to at least spare himself the humiliation of facing Chertkov. He snapped towards his lap, his fingers just barely managing to squeeze his flaring nostrils shut.

"Hnk'KGX'ttch!"

He didn't have time to retrieve his handkerchief before he helplessly curled into himself again.

"Hph'NGH'xtt!"

Valentin's gaze was practically glued to the ground as he fumbled for the cloth tucked away in his pocket. He brought it to his face and wiped his nose, which, to his horror, had begun to run. As if he wasn't mortified enough.

"E-excuse me," he said quickly, never once looking up.

Chertkov just stared at him, fiddling with his moustache, blinking rapidly.

"I certainly hope you haven't come down with something, Valentin," he spoke up, breaking the silence that followed the outbursts. "This winter has been unreasonably cruel thus far. If you're feeling unwell perhaps we should end this meeting prematurely. But first, where were we?"

He hesitated for a moment, thinking.

"Of course. You can assure me…?"

"I can assure you that I am, unfortunately, quite unwell," Valentin replied as he finally looked up, lowering his handkerchief.

"So it would seem," Chertkov replied irritably, rather unpleased that Valentin had dodged giving him an answer

Nevertheless, Valentin was true to his word. His cheeks and nose were flushed a rather brilliant shade of red. Evidence of a fever was stained into his glassy blue eyes, and it was obvious that he was fairly congested by the irregular cadence of his breathing pattern.

"I truly apologize, Vladimir Grigoryevich," he continued, sniffling.

"There is no need to apologise, Valentin. Obviously this is beyond your control. I suggest we adjourn this meeting so that you may get some rest."

Pocketing the tin of moustache wax and clapping the boy on the knee, Chertkov stood up.

"All the best, Valentin. Do take care of yourself."

And with that, Vladimir Chertkov strode across the room and exited, leaving Valentin alone in a state of utter mortification.

Once secure in the reality that Chertkov was no longer within earshot, Valentin released a deep, unsettling sigh. He buried his face into his hands, shaking his head, knowing now that his relationship with Masha was more publicized than he had hoped. The fact that Chertkov knew at all was enough to make him...

"Hupt'CHSCHtshhh!"

Something akin to a whimper left his aching throat before he looked up and got to his feet. Returning to the dormitories seemed like his best option, considering how terrible he was beginning to feel. Leaving the study, he walked through the large house and was prepared to exit when he heard a rather loud shout, followed by the distinct sound of something breaking.

The voice, Valentin recognized, belonged to the Countess.

Now, he considered continuing on his way and pretending that he hadn't heard anything. That failed to happen when the young man walked in the direction of the outburst; he would never forgive himself if Sofya Andreyevna injured herself while he had been around to prevent it.

The closer Valentin drew to the sitting room, the louder the shrieks became.

"Look at me!" Sofya screeched. "You hardly care that your own dear wife has reached her end!"

Sure enough, the individual she screamed at sat not too far away, submerged in his writing. Standing beside the great writer was his daughter, Sasha. In the furthest corner of the sitting room, Dushan Petrovich (Tolstoy's private physician) sat, scribbling furiously in a diary. The shattered remains of a decorative vase lay in pieces on the ground, Sofya Andreyevna still grasping the handle.

It was an awkward scene to walk in on. Both mother and daughter looked equally furious and upset as they argued loudly.

"Ma-ma, stop this shouting at once! You are only making things worse. Pa-pa is trying to write!"

The Countess looked frantically from her daughter to her husband, and back again.

"And I am certain that whatever it is he is writing concerns me! Any more of this, and—"

"Huh'TSSCHhhish!"

Every gaze within the room, excluding the one of Lev Nikolayevich himself, turned to the doorway to see their resident secretary buried in his handkerchief. Valentin didn't need to look up to know he was now the main object of attention.

Luckily, the Countess was far too riled up to be distracted or diverted by the man's sneeze. She carried on as though nothing had happened in the first place.

"Any more of this and I swear to you I will cease to exist!"

"Ma-ma!" Sasha groaned, quite annoyed by her mother's ridiculous theatrics.

It was then that Tolstoy's aged hand finally released the pen within his grasp. His tired eyes swept the room, paying no mind to his wife, before they settled on Valentin.

"My boy," he said, ignoring whatever else had been said. "You look quite pale. Are you alright?"

Valentin stiffened in response to Tolstoy's kind words. It continuously baffled him how such a talented and praised legend could spare an ounce of his precious time to ask if he, a nobody, was alright.

"No, I…" he snuffled, speaking through his handkerchief. "I am ill."

"How unfortunate," Tolstoy replied sadly.

"He cares for others, but not his own wife!" Sofya sobbed, storming across the room to stand beside the window. "The very wife that has given him thirteen children, who has stayed by his side every day and night of their marriage!"

"Enough."

A pause echoed in the room following the soft but firmly spoken command that came from Tolstoy. Slowly but steadily, he rose to his feet, heading for the door where Valentin stood.

"Dushan, I wish to speak with you and Valentin in private. May we converse in the study?"

Dushan nodded, rising to his feet and following the older man out the door. As they left the room, they heard the sad voice of Sofya Andreyevna reach out to them.

"In private? Why must secrets be kept from me? But what does it matter, anyway? I better be getting used to this, I suppose."

Valentin followed behind the other two, keeping a bit of an intentional distance.

The haze of his fever was beginning to interfere with his ability to concentrate. There was nothing more he wished to do than submerge himself in a sea of blankets on his bed, but he would not deny Tolstoy's request to speak with Dushan and himself.

When they arrived in the study, he remained standing and stood closest to the door, so that he would be able to immediately leave when the meeting was over.

Hopefully, it wouldn't take very long.

"Valentin, am I correct to assume that if I were to suggest you take a few days for your health, you would try to persuade me you were fine?"

Valentin was unsure whether to be flattered or disturbed that Tolstoy knew him so well. "I suppose that I would…"

"Nonetheless, I am suggesting just that. And if you feel it fit to argue, Dushan here will give you doctors orders," the old man said with a twinkle of good humour in his eyes. "I'm concerned about you, Valentin; you've seemed awfully nervous this past week. Though perhaps that can be justified by your cold."

Tolstoy chuckled.

"Go back to Telyatynki, my dear boy. Give yourself a few days. Get some rest."

Swallowing back a cough that itched at his throat, Valentin nodded with a tired, albeit genuinely grateful smile. "Thank you very much."

"Oh, and Valentin?"

That twinkle was back.

"Mm?" Valentin hummed, pausing in the doorway to look over his shoulder.

"Give my best to Maria Filipovna."

"Ah…o-of course—hupt'KSSHhhishh!"

TBC.

[TheCakeIsAlive]

"Oh, and Valentin?"

That twinkle was back.

"Mm?" Valentin hummed, pausing in the doorway to look over his shoulder.

"Give my best to Maria Filipovna."

"Ah…o-of course—hupt'KSSHhhishh!"

Love this bit.

Very nice story.

[Salamander]

Aha, I was wondering when a 'Last Station' coldfic would emerge! This is just perfect, I love the sound of his sneezes and the play between his nervous sneezing and cold sneezing. Gorgeous.

[Dusty15]

Ahhhh you two will be the death of me Beautiful beautiful

[DogLover]

Oh. My. You--and--I just--GAAAHHHH! So much cute hotness! I absolutely love this character already, and now went and gave him a cold. A sneezy one. I think I might love you...

[Spoo]

I think it's all agreed that Valentin is a poor, fragile thing that we should all look after, hmm? Teasing aside, thanks again, guys. You rock! Here we have part 3 - just in time for the holidays!

Enjoy!

So That's What Love Is

by PurpleRawrz and Spoo

Part 3

Normally, Valentin didn't mind the journey back to Telyatynki.

Considering he was ill, though, it was rather inconvenient. The cold weather didn't bode very well with his present condition, or his lungs for that matter. He had nearly coughed himself hoarse by the time he arrived at the dormitory almost two hours later, looking far worse than he had that morning.

His footsteps were heavy and sluggish as he trudged up the stairs, trying to keep his barking coughs muffled in his handkerchief. Relief washed through the man when he finally entered his room and shut the door behind him.

Valentin removed his coat and tie and was prepared to undress entirely, yet his aching limbs yearned for a rest. Because of this, he took to sitting on the edge of his bed, snuffling through the congestion that felt like cement in his sinuses.

Tiredly, he rubbed at his face and laid back. He couldn't have known that this temporary position would convince his unwell body to lose consciousness, nor could he have realized that he fell asleep horizontal on his bed, his legs dangling awkwardly off the edge.

It was in that same position that Masha found him a few hours later.

She had spent most of the day worrying about Valentin, working around the commune, and worrying some more. Now, it was well after dark, and she doubted he had eaten supper. For the second time that day, Masha found herself standing outside Valentin's room, candle in hand.

Three knocks.

A pause.

No response.

She put her ear up to the door, but she couldn't hear any movement. None of the usual stumbling around that typically followed her knocks. Concern rising, Masha opened the door. In the light of the candle, she could make out the awkwardly draped form of Valentin on his bed.

A burst of laughter escaped her lips.

Having been drifting in and out of consciousness for the past half hour, Valentin was startled into full attentiveness as the laugh met his ears. An almost humorous combination of a snort and a sputter left him as he sat up quickly, squinting in the candlelight.

"…Masha?" he croaked, his voice more air than sound at the moment.

Sitting up as fast as he had encouraged his head to pulse unpleasantly; it also gave his lungs a bit of a jumpstart, causing him to double over and cough thickly into his hands.

When the spell passed there was a distinctly wet crackle to his breathing, displaying how chestily congested he had become.

Masha placed the candle on Valentin's bedside table, tucked her hair behind her ears and made her way over to Valentin's side.

"Shh, Valentin...yes. It's me. Oh, you sound horrendous!"

Masha started to get up, intending to make some tea, but one look into Valentin's glazed over eyes told her his fever had risen since the morning. A hot beverage would probably be completely detrimental.

She sat back down and put her hand on his.

"Can I get you anything?"

"Some water, perhaps, but please don't trouble yourself over me," Valentin rasped.

He could barely speak at this point. The loss of his voice wasn't uncommon when he fell ill, but it always seemed to happen at the most inconvenient times.

Sniffling, he shakily stood to his feet and tried not to sway when he was standing.

"I should probably finish undressing," he mused, beginning to unbutton his white dress shirt.

Masha nodded as she rose to her feet, far more steadier than Valentin had. "It's no trouble, Valya. I'll get you some water."

She paused at the door, running her fingers over the doorframe.

"Call for me if you need some help with that," she whispered, smirking slightly.

Valentin was slow to catch onto the secondary meaning of Masha's words. When he realized what she had truly meant, she was already gone and unable to see the blush that darkened the already present crimson hue along his cheeks.

Really, the woman could be far too much sometimes.

He shivered when the cool air of the room met with his bare chest. A fresh nightshirt was retrieved from his dresser, as well as a clean handkerchief; his old one was nearly dripping with the messy byproducts of his terrible cold.

Slipping off his trousers and socks, he dressed without further hesitation and then wedged himself between his covers and mattress. He hadn't been lying down for more than thirty seconds when the pressing urge to sneeze tickled his swollen nasal membranes.

"Hh…hhuh…"

The sensation was maddening, borderline torturing even. Valentin did his best to mentally coax it along until he was bending at the waist and exploding into his handkerchief.

"Huhp'TDSCHhhhh!"

The sound was significantly thicker than his usual sneezes, packed with congestion and misery. Groaning quietly, he blew his nose and hoped that sleep would soon take him again. He wasn't sure how long he could endure the illness being awake.

Downstairs in the commune's kitchen, Masha prepared a tray with a glass of water and a bowl of leftover stew from supper. She could hear Valentin sneezing and blowing his nose upstairs, and shook her head in pity. It was February, and Valentin was the first member of the commune to catch cold that year. Inevitably they would all catch it: the close quarters and cold weather almost guaranteed it. Of course, Valentin would be the first, and of course, he would feel responsible.

She smiled slightly with the realisation that every thought running through her mind recently seemed to come right back to Valentin.

Masha made her way back up the stairs and didn't even bother knocking this time. She opened the door and found Valentin in bed, looking positively miserable, yet somehow still incredibly handsome.

Shaking that thought out of her mind, Masha sat down next to him on the bed, much like the first time they met.

"I brought you some leftover stew as well, Valya. You should eat something, at least."

The shadows from the candlelight danced across the room, reminding Masha of another "first" moment for them - 'No! This is not the time. Focus,' she thought to herself.

God, if only he was well...

"Here, take a sip of water first," she said, offering him the glass.

Sitting up, Valentin accepted the glass of water with a grateful nod and carefully brought it to his lips. The liquid was cool and refreshing as it traveled down his aching throat, relieving him. A simple 'sip' turned into much more when he emptied the contents of the glass.

"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly. "I didn't have much to drink today. I was constantly occupied."

Masha gave him a half smile and placed a kiss on his forehead. "I can get you more water, Valya, don't apologize."

Valentin sniffed heavily and then swallowed, leaning back against the headboard of his bed. Tolstoy had been extremely thoughtful to have excused him from his duties. Resting for a few days would be lovely. Although, Valentin dreaded the thought of returning when he was well, mostly because he knew Chertkov would want to finish their meeting.

But that wasn't something he wished to think of at the moment.

Eyeing the stew, which he knew he wouldn't be able to taste, he frowned. "It looks delicious."

"To be perfectly honest, the soup was terrible. I would take advantage of your lack of taste and have it, regardless. You need some food in you," Masha said, moving even closer to Valentin and arranging the tray in a convenient position for him. "How was your day, aside from feeling so poorly?"

"A bit unsettling," Valentin admitted. "I'm beginning to think the Countess and her husband can't be in the same room without quarreling anymore."

Reaching over, he took the spoon within his hold and brought it to his lips. As predicted, he couldn't taste a thing. He could, however, tell that the stew was far too thick. When his mouth was vacant again, he continued speaking.

"I've been given a few days of rest. I hope to recover quickly."

Valentin planned to take in a second spoonful of the soup, but he was interrupted when another coughing spree sprung upon him. He was polite enough to turn his head and cough into his handkerchief, but that hardly muffled the wetness of the spasms.

"That's very kind of him. You certainly do need a few days off."

But Masha's sentence was drowned out by Valentin's coughing. Biting her lip, she leaned over and stroked his back until the fit resided long enough for her to be heard.

"Are you alright?" she asked. "I've never seen you like this before. It worries me."

Valentin nodded when he could, seemingly exhausted from the violent coughing spell. "There hasn't been a winter yet where I haven't caught cold," he replied.

It was a yearly occurrence that never failed.

"I should be the one worried about you," he continued, wiping at his running nose. "You're bound to catch this from me."

Masha offered him another half smile. He was right, of course, but what could she do about that? They might as well have taken advantage of it.

"In that case, why don't I stay here with you tonight? I'm not comfortable leaving you alone in this state. We'll keep each other warm," she offered, thoroughly enjoying the look on Valentin's face when he eventually processed what she had just said.

In the past, Valentin would have been worried about the laws concerning curfew and the presence of the opposite sex in bedrooms after-hours. The only concern he had now, though, was letting Masha continue to expose herself to his germs.

But…she seemed so determined.

"I only wish I was better company at the moment," he replied.

As if to mock his former statement, his nose decided to torment him with another unruly tickle. Both of his hands tightly pressed the handkerchief against the lower part of his face as he muffled the harsh sneeze.

"Hh'MFFShhchhuuh!"

He kept his pose for a second, debating whether or not he was finished, but then straightened up again, folding his handkerchief over and blowing out the congestion that had been loosened.

"…A-and not so utterly repulsive."

"Repulsive? Never."

Masha pushed away the tray of rejected soup and handed Valentin a clean handkerchief from the drawer, taking away the old one and discarding it on the floor.

"Here. Are you finished sneezing for now?" she teased.

"To be honest," Valentin sighed, accepting the new handkerchief. "I never am."

TBC.

[DogLover]

"Here. Are you finished sneezing for now?" she teased.

"To be honest," Valentin sighed, accepting the new handkerchief. "I never am."

GUUHHHH. I died. My brain just melted.

[Salamander]

"Here. Are you finished sneezing for now?" she teased. "To be honest," Valentin sighed, accepting the new handkerchief. "I never am." TBC.

This. I could eat this with a spoon. And I love it.

[Garnet]

Omg :x !! How precious is this? You're both lovely writers, and that quirk of sneezing-while-nervous is never one I've seen done well until now. Illness definitely helps though and just awww aww all over the place at this. My heart!

[TheCakeIsAlive]

I think it's all agreed that Valentin is a poor, fragile thing that we should all look after, hmm?

Absolutely.

"Here. Are you finished sneezing for now?" she teased.

"To be honest," Valentin sighed, accepting the new handkerchief. "I never am."

[Spoo]

And so, my darlings, we've reached the grand finale. Purple and I are pretty sure you saw the little twist at the end coming, but it was something that needed to be done. Thank you all SO MUCH for reading! A "bonus story" of sorts is planned (it will be completely unrelated to this plot) so keep an eye out for that, since it will be posted here whenever it's finished. Again, THANK YOU!

Sit back, relax, and enjoy this last piece.

So That's What Love Is

By PurpleRawrz and Spoo

Part 4

(The End)

When it became clear to Valentin that Masha was, in fact, staying with him through the course of the night, he moved over on the mattress so she would have room to lay down. It wouldn't be the first time they'd shared a bed, but it would be the first time they'd done so without being intimate.

The thought alone made him feel a little uneasy. He was hardly in any state to make decent conversation or be an overall good bedmate (he would probably end up snoring with the congestion in his nose).

Valentin could only hope that Masha wouldn't find his consistent sniffles, snuffles, and coughs annoying. Although, he didn't have much time to think about it seeing as he fell asleep shortly afterward.

Masha watched Valentin as he slept, any and all defenses giving in at last. He looked so peaceful and so comfortable that she was almost afraid to shift positions in fear of waking him.

There she lay with her head resting on his chest, and with each unconscious breath he took, she could hear the congestion deep within his lungs. At least in this state of sleep he was somewhat peaceful. Sitting up carefully, Masha leaned and blew out the candle still resting on the bedside table. She snuggled back down in the darkness next to the sleeping body of Valentin and closed her eyes.

Though it must have been a while later, it felt like mere minutes when Masha was awakened suddenly by violent tremors.

In recent hours Valentin's fever had steadily climbed to a dangerous level, wracking the man with a terrible series of shivers. He shook beside Masha, making tiny noises of discomfort.

He didn't seem to be awake, yet he certainly wasn't asleep; he was somewhere in between, trapped in an icy lake of fire.

Masha sat up quickly and fumbled around the bedside table for matches and a candle. Within moments, the light was just enough for her to see Valentin. She gasped. If possible, he looked even worse than he had before.

He was radiating heat.

"Valya?" she whispered, putting her hand on his and squeezing it.

Valentin heard Masha's voice.

His eyelids fluttered before they slowly parted, revealing his glassy eyes; he couldn't open them any more than halfway. Fever swam in his irises, drowning them, and his breathing was far too shallow to be considered normal.

He couldn't stop shaking. His teeth chattered behind his dry lips as he struggled with his fluctuating internal body temperature.

Masha quickly stepped out of the bed, removing the layers of blankets from Valentin's half freezing, half burning body.

"I'll be right back."

She grabbed the candle, slipped out of the room and rushed down the stairs, two at a time. She didn't care if she woke anyone else up; all she could focus on was Valentin and his well-being. Collecting a hand towel and a bucket of cool, fresh water, she climbed the stairs as quickly as she could.

Entering Valentin's room for the fourth time that day, Masha's heart pounded with concern and fear. She wasn't certain how high his fever was, but it was clearly dangerously so. She dipped the washcloth in the bucket and squeezed out the excess water. Gently, she placed it on Valentin's forehead.

A soft noise of protest left his lips, mostly in reaction to the cool cloth against his hot skin. Valentin's eyes flickered to Masha, gazing at her as though he wasn't sure whether she was real or a hallucination.

Weakly, he clasped onto her petite wrist and held it, his burning fingers gripping the cool skin as tightly as they could.

"Masha," he whispered hoarsely before swallowing. "Masha…"

"Yes, it's me," Masha whispered in reply. "It's alright now. I'm here."

She removed the now warm washcloth and dipped it in the water again.

"Close your eyes, Valya. Everything is alright."

Masha sighed in relief when Valentin's body finally relaxed. The shaking ceased, and she curled up beside him once more, dabbing the washcloth across his face to keep him cool. Occasionally his eyelids would fly open in a glazed panic, sweeping frantically across the dim room until his eyes met hers. Then he would relax, and so would she.

Eventually, they fell asleep - Valentin with a washcloth pressed to his forehead, and Masha, curled up beside him with only her feet covered by the thick blankets, washcloth in hand.

---

In spite of encountering a rough and restless night, Valentin was the first to awaken in the morning. Light had begun to drift from the windows, stretching past the curtains and into the far edges of the room; he noticed this when his eyes opened and gradually fell into focus.

Turning his head made him realize two things: The first was that a rag was settled on his forehead - a rag that slid off onto his shoulder with the movement of his head. The second observation was Masha, his beautiful Masha, curled beside him, sleeping.

He couldn't quite recall what had transpired the evening before, but he could only imagine how much trouble he must have been if there was a fever rag to begin with.

His body ached, and he couldn't breathe at all through his nose, but that didn't stop Valentin from turning on his side and wrapping an arm around Masha's waist. He burrowed his face into her neck, breathing through his mouth, and stroked her hipbone gently with the stubby end of his nail-bitten thumb.

When Masha awoke it was to the rhythmic pattern of Valentin stroking her side.

She could instantly tell that his fever had broken, that he was no longer in danger, and she sighed in relief, opening her eyes to the day. She turned her head to meet Valentin's gaze, the both of them smiling like they shared a secret.

That was, until something happened.

Masha raised the back of her right hand slightly and pressed it up against her nose as if the slight touch would stop what was about to happen. Though they both saw it coming, the soft but forceful sneeze still seemed to take Masha by surprise. She didn't have time to turn away completely, when -

"Eh-t'SCHK'uh!"

There was a brief moment where Valentin stared at her through wide, nervous eyes. Masha pretended that nothing had happened, knowing fully what that one sneeze meant.

"What's the matter?" she asked, lowering her hand and sniffling ever so slightly. Her tone of voice was a balanced combination of innocence and congestion.

"Masha…" Valentin began, but then stopped himself from saying another word. He coughed softly and laid his head onto her shoulder. "Nothing. It's nothing. God bless you."

He had a feeling they would be sharing his bed for the next few days.

END.

[DogLover]

Aaawwwww... Just aawww. And GAAHHH. Is it sadistic for me to find this last part so hot...?

[fraggle]

I love the characterization in this story, and how well it fits with the movie.

[Dusty15]

I ate this up with about a million spoons and I'm stuffed with joy and love and and squeeeee! Fantastic, you too!

[Purple]

D'awww...

Not only do I love reading the finished works, I think I speak for both Spoo and myself when I say that all of your comments are so lovely and kind! We are just wrapping up with our little "bonus" story of sorts - it's kind of a sequel to this story, one could say. It will be here before you know it!

[Purple]

I meant to say prequel. My bad.

[Spoo]

And here we go! As Purple mentioned, this can be seen as a prequel - as in, taking place BEFORE the previous story. This also takes place BEFORE Masha and Valentin slept together. Unfortunately, there isn't much sneezing in this. We focused on developing their relationship more than anything, so apologies if it seems 'dialogue-heavy'. Other than that, please enjoy!

You're What I Came Here to Find

By PurpleRawrz and Spoo

On afternoons when his services were not required at Yasnaya Polyana, Valentin enjoyed strolling the grounds of Teylatynki. He found it an extremely relaxing pastime, taking in the sights, smells, and the overall unity that held the camp together. He would occasionally find places to sit and write in his diaries, logging his daily activities or any outstanding observations he had made.

That particular afternoon was no different.

Seated amongst a patch of tall grass in a secluded area not too far away from the main array of buildings, he scribbled a few things down on a blank page. There were times where he would pause, biting the end of his pen, as his eyes squinted at an invisible point on the horizon.

And then, when a spurt of fresh inspiration struck him not long after, he'd go back to writing. It was a lovely little routine he'd fallen into and enjoyed.

Now, there was something about Valentin Bulgakov that intrigued Masha deeply. She was the kind of person who connected with others instantly.

But with Valentin, things seemed to be different. She sensed that getting to know him better would take time. He was very kind as far as she could tell, and rather shy, yet bold in his opinions and passions. Masha, however, was bold in all aspects of her personality. She could tell that Valentin was not used to the level of comfort she exuded - it was in her nature to become close with people, but apparently, not in his. Not so quickly, anyway.

It was early afternoon when Masha decided she'd had enough of chopping wood for the day. A walk sounded nice, and it would certainly give her time to think about whatever she wanted. And on this particular day, Masha was thinking about Valentin. She wandered along the edge of the forest at a casual pace. She wasn't going anywhere particular other then away from the general direction of the commune; it was nice to have some time to herself.

As she walked into a small clearing between the trees, a movement only a few yards away startled her.

It was Valentin, deep in thought, writing passionately in one of his ever-present diaries. Yet another mystery Masha had yet to understand. She watched him write for a moment before calling out to him.

"Valentin Fyodorovich!"

The sudden and unexpected call of his name had Valentin's latest pen stroke going awry. What was meant to be an 'L' turned into a crooked loop. He looked up, appearing very much the image of a startled deer. He hadn't planned for anyone to come by, seeing as no one ever did.

However, upon registering that it was only Masha, he relaxed a bit. Shutting his diary atop his lap, he stood up and brushed some dried grass particles off of his trousers.

"Hello, Masha," he greeted, smiling. "I didn't expect to see you. Are you going for a walk?"

"I was," Masha said. "But this seems like a nice place to relax." She sighed and sat down exactly where Valentin had mere moments ago, stretching out on her back. "Join me?"

Valentin hesitated.

"Ah…alright."

He didn't lay on his back like Masha had, but he did sit beside her. His diary was placed near him, along with his pen. He leaned back on his palms and breathed in a lungful of clean air.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

"It certainly is..." Masha replied. "Though I feel as though we may have rain tonight." She turned on her side to face Valentin, breaking into a wide grin. "Now, what ever were you writing about so passionately, Valentin? Could it be those 'relations with women' you refuse to speak of?" she asked in a teasing tone.

"It's not that I 'refuse' to speak of them," Valentin corrected, perhaps a little faster than he should have. "I simply find it unnecessary."

Openly speaking of intimacy wasn't encouraged when practicing Tolstoyan laws. In fact, all sexual relations were not approved of. Therefore, Valentin felt the subject didn't belong in everyday conversation.

Especially with a woman.

"Unnecessary?" Masha echoed, trying hard not to laugh. "I see." She rolled over on her back, facing the sky once more. "I must say, it comes off as a refusal to speak of such experiences. Though, didn't you say you found this topic 'completely neutral?' Or is that what you should think?"

"No…no! Of course not. I do find it completely neutral. In its neutrality, the subject…the topic, it…should remain unspoken of," Valentin amended, even though it was obvious how flustered he happened to be.

He couldn't begin to understand Masha's thought process - how she, as a member of the movement herself, thought that speaking of such things (as though they were nothing) was perfectly normal.

It wasn't.

"What I find unnecessary is to speak of personal experiences."

Masha raised an eyebrow and turned to face Valentin once again.

"Really?"

She bit her tongue to keep from laughing. This could get fun. "I have no trouble speaking of my former relations. It's honesty, Valentin. That's all. I'm being honest; open. Isn't honesty a key Tolstoyan principle?"

She could feel his discomfort increasing, but continued on. Someone had to get him to open up; it might as well be her.

"There's no shame in honesty, Valentin. Though I must admit, I wasn't completely honest in my relationship prior to coming here. My lover was married, so we made love in secret. His wife never found out. It was enthralling, really."

Valentin recalled Masha mentioning her lover, even if, at the time, he had been trying to distract himself by chopping wood. Or at least trying to chop wood. It hadn't gone very well.

Whether he realized it or not, he'd begun to chew at one of his fingernails as his eyes flickered away from Masha.

"I see," he could only say, just as he had before.

When it finally occurred to her why, perhaps Valentin wasn't able to discuss his previous relations because, maybe there were none, she burst out laughing.

"Oh, I get it," she laughed. "You're a virgin?"

"…Hng'NGX'tt!"

It happened so suddenly. Valentin barely had the chance to turn away and pinch his nose when the sneeze sprung upon him. He'd felt no tickle or prior indication that it was going to happen; it just did and that was that.

"Excuse me."

Sniffing, he released his nostrils and reached for the handkerchief that was tucked away in his pocket. The sneeze alone was proof that he had reached his limit.

"I am celibate," he said, as if that would somehow make things clearer.

"Bless you," Masha offered absently, continuing on. "Really? For how long?"

Valentin paused. 'For my whole life' was the true answer, but that was much too personal and embarrassing to admit to someone who had obviously acted upon their sexual prowess.

"Since I began following Tolstoyan beliefs," he answered, hoping the reply would come off more ambiguous than truthful.

"I see," Masha said, taking his previously spoken words. "So, you're a virgin? I can't say I'm not surprised," she sighed, grinning at him. "Not that it makes you any less of a person, but clearly you don't know what you're missing."

Once again, she bit her tongue to keep from laughing, wondering how many outrageous things would she have to say before Valentin realised she was teasing him.

"I think…I think I should go," Valentin said, gathering his diary into his hand as he prepared to stand up.

Masha was bold and much too free a spirit to be bothered with someone like him - someone who, apparently, was 'missing out'.

"Valentin!" Masha called. "Why don't you tell me what you were writing about?"

She gazed at him from her spot in the grass, silently asking him to stay.

Valentin considered her words and settled back down on the grass. He felt awkward and out of place. Like they were playing a game he had no clue how to play. But the change of topic was a decent enough distraction from his discomfort.

"I was writing about the grounds," he answered honestly, looking at the area around them. "And also reflecting on my day thus far."

Masha smiled and leaned back in the grass. "Will you read me some? Unless of course, it's too...private," she teased.

Valentin felt heat take to his cheeks in slight embarrassment. There were those who occasionally wondered what he wrote in his diaries, but no one had yet to actually ask him what exactly he was writing.

Well, aside from Chertkov and the Countess, but that was for a different reason entirely.

In truth, though, he'd only written about his day. There was nothing personal or private that couldn't be shared with Masha.

Clearing his throat, Valentin nodded. "Alright."

As Valentin read from his diary, Masha let her mind drift along with his words, his honest, reflective words that captivated her into silence.

Eventually, she opened her eyes and turned to face him, watching him read. He spoke with a passion she silently envied. Yes, she was free spirited and spoke her mind, but she didn't have something to be passionate about like Valentin was with his work.

It was part of the reason she joined the movement. She had yet to discover what exactly it was she was looking for, but watching Valentin read made her feel like...like she was getting closer.

"…and then," Valentin narrated, turning a page. "I experienced a most unexpected visit from one of the members of Telyatynki."

He looked at Masha with an innocent, yet playful gleam in his bright blue eyes. A smile teased his lips. It was obvious that he was now improvising and no longer directly reading.

Valentin returned to his diary and continued to speak. "She is a bold woman - one who enjoys teasing me, it seems. In spite of this, she is very thoughtful and kind, seeing as she brings me tea with jam in the mornings."

Masha smiled, having thoroughly enjoyed Valentin's narrative and where it had led him to. She wanted to know more about the sweet, honest man in front of her. She wanted to know everything.

"You have a gift, Valya. You write the truth effortlessly. You write what you see around you, and that is the truth. It's beautiful."

She paused, chewing on a long blade of grass and squinting at Valentin.

"What else do you think of me?"

Valentin blinked at the name Masha had called him, yet he didn't have time to really think about it before she was asking a question that had him gaping for a moment.

"I…" he paused, swallowing, as he tried to think of a suitable answer. "I think that you are very determined."

The skittish secretary looked elsewhere, mostly because gazing straight into Masha's eyes when discussing such a personal matter was beginning to make him feel jittery.

"…And very honest."

Masha watched a deep blush creep across Valentin's face as his eyes refused to meet hers. She sat up slowly, still facing him, staring directly into his darting blue eyes.

"I see you've finally learned to say what you think," she laughed. "You know what I think? That you believe I am too honest. I think it intimidates you."

Intimidation was an understatement, really. Valentin found Masha's honesty and bluntness absolutely terrifying at times, if only because he wasn't accustomed to such frankness.

That went especially for someone like Masha - someone kind, goodnatured, and very attractive. The man paled at the last characteristic that flashed through his mind.

"It certainly catches me off guard," he said quietly, fingers unconsciously digging into the grass.

Masha smiled.

"Well, you best be getting used to it," she sang, poking Valentin's blushing cheek with a tall blade of grass. "I have a feeling we'll be getting to know each other better. Unless, of course, I manage to scare you off," she added, moving slightly closer to him.

Valentin noticed that Masha seemed to be getting a bit closer. He didn't move away, but his eyes did flicker to the small amount of space that was separating them.

He cleared his throat. "Is there anything in particular you wish to know about me?"

Masha pursed her lips, the hint of a smile peeking through them. She moved even closer.

God, she wanted to know everything. What he thought about the movement, why he was so passionate about it... why he was so shy, so intimidated by the mere mention of one's sex life.

She let her eyes drift down to his hand resting in the grass, and picked it up within hers, turning his palm to face the sun. She noticed a faded white line, and frowned slightly.

"How did you get that scar?" she asked, letting his hand go again.

He couldn't help but flinch as she grabbed his hand, seeing as how he wasn't used to contact. He relaxed, though, and found himself gazing at the scar she'd brought up. Ah, yes. He remembered quite well.

"It's a bit embarrassing," Valentin admitted. "I was in a hurry and running late, and I closed my own hand in the door."

Given the man's personality, it wasn't hard to believe he'd done such a clumsy thing.

Masha shook her head and laughed. "That doesn't surprise me, actually."

She pulled herself forwards and rested her head in Valentin's lap, fiddling with the blade of grass she still held between her fingers.

"Tell me something about yourself that I don't know."

Masha had officially gotten closer than any other female Valentin had become acquainted with. He gazed down at her as the red hue from before splashed across his cheeks again.

"Ah…"

He didn't dare touch her. He kept his hands on the grass, refraining from making any sudden movements.

"I'm a poor dancer."

Masha could feel Valentin's discomfort increasing as she repositioned herself. It didn't faze her, though, and she continued on.

"That doesn't surprise me either," she teased, looking up at him and grinning. "Maybe I'll have to teach you sometime. Something else?"

"I don't particularly care for spicy food," he continued, finding it strange that she wished to know more about him.

In Valentin's opinion, he was boring and plain; he feared that Masha would soon grow tired of his confessions. Surely she was the more interesting one out of the two of them.

Masha opened her mouth to reply, intending to wholeheartedly agree with Valentin on that, but a rustling in the foliage distracted her. She felt Valentin tense, and she sat up, accidentally placing her hand on his, but purposefully keeping it there.

She looked in the direction of the movement to where Sergeyenko, Chertkov's secretary, had appeared. He was the very last person Masha wanted to see at the moment. He was a tight-assed, priggish bastard, and she had no time for his ignorant ways.

Especially now that she had time alone with Valentin.

Before either of them had a chance to speak, Sergeyenko opened his mouth.

"Why, don't you two look…cozy," he sneered.

Whatever color had been in Valentin's face quickly drained away. Dread bloomed in the pit of his stomach; it spread to his heart and accelerated his pulse as well. He opened his mouth and gaped like a fish, but absolutely nothing came out.

Sergeyenko seemed less than pleased. "I was wondering where the both of you had gone off to," he scoffed.

When it seemed as though Valentin had unthawed, he quickly removed his hand from beneath Masha's and tried to explain.

"We were only speakiiiihh…!"

But that was all he managed to say before he was smothering his nose into the back of his wrist.

"Hup'TKSChhiiish!"

So much for an explanation.

"I'm sure we'd all enjoy the luxury of laying about in the grass," Sergeyenko continued, almost bitterly. "But there are chores to be done in case you haven't noticed."

"Then why don't you get a head start on them and let us be?" Masha shot back. "Valentin and I have spent the day working, and unlike you, we enjoy each others company."

She rolled her eyes and looked over at Valentin, who was once again bright red and sneezing.

"Are you alright?" she asked him, trying to ignore Sergeyenko.

"F-fine—hupt'TSCHhhishh!"

Being found by Sergeyenko in the wrong place at the wrong time was more than Valentin was able to handle. His nervous tic kicked in at full force, sending him into a helpless sneezing frenzy.

Annoyed that he was being deliberately ignored, Sergeyenko stalked off towards the commune. He made a mental note to report to Chertkov as soon as he could about catching Valentin and Masha together, alone, in the woods.

When it seemed as though Valentin was getting a hold of himself again, he sighed into the handkerchief he'd brought to his nose.

"I'm mortified," he admitted. "He'll assume we w-were…nn'GKX'kt!…doing something else."

"Oh, let him assume what he wants, the tight ass. What does it matter what he thinks? If anything, he's jealous. He's incapable of a functional relationship."

Masha sighed, and ran her fingers through her hair. She paused to stare at Valentin, puzzled at his state.

"Bless you..are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes," Valentin reassured her, sniffing. "It's just something that happens."

His answer was vague and not as informative as he might have thought it was. No matter what, though, he could only hope that Sergeyenko wouldn't adopt the wrong idea and take it upon himself to perform disciplinary actions.

"Something that happens..." Masha echoed, now more amused than puzzled. "Alright then."

She sighed and leaned backwards into Valentin's lap once more.

"You know," she began, "He already thinks we've been doing something. So, why don't we?"

She gazed up at Valentin's face, trying hard not to laugh. The strange thing was...she wasn't teasing him this time.

Just when Valentin had managed to get a hold of himself, here was Masha, making him fret all over again. In order to subdue the sneeze that wanted to spill out, he pressed the back of his hand up and against his nostrils.

"I-I don't understand," he said, his voice small and unsure. "You want to…?"

His trembling lips were prepared to utter the word 'intercourse', but the poor man seemed to have frozen in his attempt to speak.

Masha stared at him, holding her gaze steady.

"I don't know what I want," she whispered.

She slowly sat up, until she was face to face with Valentin.

"I want to know you," she continued. "I want to know how you really feel about everything. I don't want you to be afraid of what you think you shouldn't believe or feel. I don't want you to be afraid of Sergeyenko or Chertkov...or me."

Masha reached forward and gently took Valentin's hand away from his face.

Somehow, when Masha said things in such a way, the world seemed less scary. Valentin found himself relaxing, if only a little, as he nodded. He then licked his lips and swallowed, taking her words to heart (or at least trying to).

"I'm afraid of failure," he said quietly. "I fear that I won't live up to Lev Nikolayevich's standards, that I am in no way qualified to be his secretary, aside from strictly adopting his principles."

He had not stressed such a childish concern to Chertkov, but with Masha...

Valentin was beginning to feel a strange sense of certainty.

Masha felt a twinge of compassion rush throughout her, and she leaned even closer to him.

"Valya...you must know how much Tolstoy appreciates your dedication; your work; all the help you are giving him. You know that. He knows that. I know that. That's what matters. You have so much passion..I envy that. So many of us do. And what's wonderful is that it's helping others. There is no need to be afraid any longer."

Masha squeezed his hand and gently placed her lips on his blushing cheek, letting them linger there for a moment.

Valentin didn't know what to be more alarmed about: The fact that Masha was kissing him, or the fact that he wasn't sneezing.

END.

[Dusty15]

ooooooOoooh so so cute I love the bit about him looking like a startled deer! It was such a clear picture in my head

[SterlingSilver]

OwO OMG ADORABLE~

So much love~

*huggles computer screen*