The lion sunk to the ground beside her, his dark eyes meeting her hazel ones as he assured her no one wanted to feel this way. The fact that he seemed to fill in some blanks about what she was feeling without her telling him, would have said something to her, had she been less drunk than she was. Hazel eyes held his and there was something in his that she found familiar, a shadow of something that told her he really did understand. He told her drinking herself into a stupor wasn't going to help and she snorted a rather unladylike sound as he added that he didn't actually follow his own good advice.
Hazel eyes searched his eyes and handsome face and could see that there was indeed some sort trauma there behind his eyes. She put her hand on his gently, but didn't say anything as they sat in silence. She was calming down a bit when he asked her quietly who "he" was. Ksenia swallowed hard before she answered, catching her lower lip between her teeth.
"Sevastian Mikhailov." The name was said so very quietly, past the lump in her throat. Dark eyes stayed on her face and she didn't realize she was softly tracing little circles on the back of his hand with her fingertip.
"He is- was my partner." Her other hand wiped at her tear streaked cheeks before tucking her pale golden hair behind her ear to play with the ends of her tangled hair. "I don't know if you realize this," she started, the edge of teasing in her voice as she tried to lighten the tone. "But in my country, I am famous." Clearing her throat of the lump still lingering she continued. "We are three time Gold medalists. The youngest pairs to win pair gold our first time." There was a smirk on Bryan's plush lips and she let herself echo it for a moment.
"But he's dead now," she said abruptly the smile fading as she twisted her hair around her finger. "He was murdered for being gay." That lump was back and her eyes teared up as the words poured out of her before they could choke her. "He came out after our win in Korea, he wanted to be an example, to those being persecuted in our country." Tears flooded her eyes. "I begged him not to, that it was too dangerous, no matter what prestige he brought to our motherland, it wouldn't be enough to keep him safe. But he wouldn't listen." The blonde tugged at her hair in frustration.
"I stood beside him, I supported him, even when I was scared for him and for me. The death threats, so many violent threats for both of us." She couldn't speak through the knot of grief and guilt stuck in her throat and she could only shake her head. Lowering her head, a tear fell from her long lashes, onto the back of his hand, where her fingers were still tracing unknown symbols on his tattooed skin.
Flashes of Ksenia dressed in a white dress covered in blood, shocked horrified expression on her face, screaming, crying, an attractive dead man on the floor, disemboweled, letters in her hands, in a language he couldn't read, each just a momentary flash before she pulled her hand away from his, hazel eyes wide. She'd never shared her own nightmares or fear through a touch before.
"I'm a nocnitsa," she explained as she cradled her hand to her body as if she had burned it, leaning away from him now, as if afraid to touch him, afraid she would infect him with how fucked up she was. "A night hag," she added since he would have little idea what the Russian word for her race was. "We deal in fear, nightmares and sex, and this seems to have...sparked powers I never knew I had." Fresh tears welled in her beautiful eyes.
"I kept seeing him, everywhere in Russia, this nightmare version of him I cannot vanquish." Looking up at Bryan from under thick wet lashes, her voice wavered. "I just want to feel something besides this guilt and fear and sadness."