Since You've Been Gone

She was armed with a paintbrush and a bottle of wine. Alise entered the room- his room, her mind reminded her- and placed the bottle down on the floor. She had moved all of the baby stuff out a while ago, so she didn't bother to cover anything up. The only thing was her bed, the one that she slept in most nights, except for the few night where she crawled next Sacha in a drunken haze.

With a lo pop, the brunette managed to pop the lid of the paint can to reveal it's cream center. The colors of this room were too young, too nosy. Too much like what she imagined her son to be like.

She dipped the bristles into the paint and lifted up, watching the white splatter back into the can. White, for the white Christmas outside.

Then, she began to paint.

Sacha made his way through the front door of the cabin, swaying a bit. He'd drank far more than he usually consumed. He might have blamed the insistence of his associates, but he knew that the choice to drink so much was wholly his own.

Ketty appeared in the living room, frowning reprovingly at him. The elf looked as though she wanted to admonish him for returning home late and intoxicated, but instead she heaved a sigh and silently left the room again.

The man wended his way across the room and along the corridor, pausing to quietly open Matthew's door to peek in at the boy. Content that his son was safe and sound - for the moment, if nothing else. Continuing along the hallway, he went towards the master bedroom, only to halt and move to the doorway of the room opposite.

A melancholy washed over him as Sacha watched Alise. His wife. With the sparse contact they had had the past few months, could they still be counted as husband and wife? The man didn't know. He didn't care to think on it, much.

"What are you doing?" he asked quietly.

Alise turned at his voice, her gaze soft and caring. For a moment, she gave him a sad smile, but then turned back to her wall. The paint brush was heavy in her hands, but she continued to paint swirls and flowers. After she had made something, she covered it up with serious lines.

"What does it look like?" she said softly. She stopped for a moment to grab the bottle of wine. She placed the cork in her mouth and pulled out the loose end with her teeth before spitting it aside. "Painting and drinking. Like a true artist,"

Her voice wavered slightly, a sign of misuse. When was the last time they spoke? Despite the polite "Good mornings," and such, she doubted they truly ever spoke. She raised the bottle to her lips and took a long swallow.

"Want some?"

"Fair point," Sacha replied. He left the doorway to approach her, a hand against the wall to maintain his questionable balance. The man halted as he reached the edge of her painting job, pulling his hand from the wall to take the bottle and take a large swallow. Handing it back, he gazed at her a long moment, eyes betraying far more feeling than was usual.

An arm lifted, fingers reaching out as though to stroke the side of her face. The motion was abruptly aborted, however. Sacha may have been drunk already, but not yet drunk enough to cross the boundary that seemed to have been firmly built between them like a wall. She no longer welcomed his touch.

Instead, Sacha turned towards the wall, perhaps in part to conceal the hurt that may have flickered across his features. "You're quite the artist," he remarked. "Why cover it?"

Alise ignored his question, her eyes going for his hand back to his face. "You're drunk," she stated flatly, her grip on the bottle tightening. Tomorrow was Christmas and if he was hung over for it... She'd take Mattie out somewhere.

Her hand found the side of his face and her thumb rubbed his cheek. "What the hell am I going to do with you?"

She pulled her hand away to start her silent work again, dipping the paint brush in the paint and coating the walls with it. Her eyes went between her painting and her husband, unsure of what to make of the situation. She was ready to talk about... that, yet. If he brought it up, she'd ignore it.

Sacha gave a dry laugh. "Yes, well, I figure once wouldn't hurt anyone," he remarked, a trace of atypical sarcasm and bitterness entering his tone. "It's not like I can't take a hangover draught in the morning, if necessary."

Eyes fluttering briefly shut, he leaned into the contact. "I don't know what to do with myself," Sacha admitted hoarsely.

The man immediately mourned the loss of her touch. He drew in a sharp breath, eyes opening again to settle upon her almost bewilderedly, an odd ache closing about his heart like a fist. Why must it be this way? So near, yet so very distant... Sacha took a half-step closer, hand raising again, only to hang in the air.

"I know that -" he began, suddenly finding expressing himself immensely difficult. The lump in his throat may have had something to do with that. "It... I don't expect you to...

"I miss you, Alise," Sacha rasped. "These past few months..." killed him... "I miss you."

Alise gave a sideways smile at the man, unsure of what was going on. His mood was different from his usual ignorance of her attitudes. She didn't quite like this. Taking another swig of the bottle, she turned back it him.

She reached up to touch his hand, her face serious again. "Miss me?" she whispered, "Sacha... I never left.I'm right in front of you,"

Her eyes went to the wall, her throat closing up with her confuddled emotions.

His hand closed around hers, firm, yet gentle. A very quiet sound that just may have been a sob escaped his throat.

"But you did," Sacha whispered back. His eyes had started to glisten, but he quickly blinked the moisture away. "You were so far away... I didn't know how to reach you.

"I know you can't - that you will never... forget, Alise. Neither will I. But..." He swallowed hard, torment entering his eyes. "Please, Alise. I need you - love you - so much. Please don't close me out anymore." That odd sound escaped from him, once more. "Please..."

Sacha hung his head, the picture of a man defeated, his vulnerability possible only because the alcohol had lowered his defenses. He clung to her hand as though it were a lifeline. At the moment, Sacha felt very much like a man drowning.

Alise dropped the paint brush- stain be damned- and raised a hand to his cheek to swipe away any tears that may fall. Her smile was warm and motherly, but her eyes still conveyed the far of gaze it had for the last few months. Her other hand squeezed his gently as she shook her head.

"Oh, Sacha, look at you," she sighed, "Such a proud man shouldn't be crying. Come on, we should get you to bed. Mattie... let's get you to sleep. Father Frost is coming, yes?"

She flinched when he mentioned forgetting, but otherwise stayed composed. Forgetting? She had already moved on in her mind- it was the aching in her heart that remembered. Giving his hand a soft tug, she hoped to have him leave the scene sooner or later, though, some part of herself didn't want to be alone anymore. She scared herself when she was alone.

"I'm right here, Sacha," she whispered, "Right here,"

Again, Sacha leaned into the contact, reveling in it.

"What good is pride?" he mumbled. "It can serve only to push you farther away." His gaze searched her face, watching her intently, drinking her in.

When she tugged on his hand, he stepped closer to her, reaching out for her with his other hand, once more. Only this time, his didn't refrain from laying his hand against her cheek, his touch light and caressing.

Ducking his head, Sacha gently nuzzled his face against hers.

Alise pressed her body against his, her eyes finally softening in defeat. Her lids drifted shut as she leaned forward and met his lips with hers. Her lips moved slowly and tenitively, unsure if this was the right thing to do.

"Sacha," After pulling away, she looked her husband in the eyes, "I don't say this enough, but love you."

She wanted to go on about how afraid she was about their future, but instead let the silence fall as she tugged his hand again. "Really, bed time,"

Sacha held Alise close, returning the kiss gently, every bit as uncertain as she. Part of him was not wholly convinced he wasn't dreaming, as implausible that seemed. Another part would have gladly dreamed forever, if only to have her close, again.

"And I, you." Sacha warmly held her gaze.

He sighed as she tugged his hand, once more. "Very well," the man conceded, "but only if you remain with me." Sacha no longer wished to be alone - no longer wished to be without her. He had no interest in sleep if he had to wake by himself, arms empty and heart aching.

Alise wordlessly pulled him forward out of the room with bright eyes. The paint can and wine forgotten, the Russian suddenly wanted to be in his arms again. How she had missed the warmth of another human next to her! Her heart fluttered at the thought of his touch again, a smirk coming across her face.

"You want your Christmas present early, hm?"

The corners of Sacha's mouth twitched upwards, his eyes warming as he continued to watch her, allowing her to lead him from the room.

"I always peeked at my presents early," he confessed. "I was rather impatient as a boy. It was always so difficult to be good all the time."

Alise's hands roamed to his waistband, her actions still feeling forced. She ignored this feeling though, taking his confession as a good sign. She captured his mouth in a kiss as they travelled backwards, her foot pushing open the door. A hand shakly ran through her husband's hair, forcing herself more than him.

"Well, I guess you can have a little peek then," she whispered, "We can be a little naughty,"

Sacha hungrily returned the kiss, pulling her close as they moved. He nudged the door so it would close quietly behind them after they passed. His heart thrilled at her closeness, the promise of her company quickening its beat.

Intoxicated though he was, however, with drink and with her, he didn't miss the trembling of her hand as it ran through his hair. Squeezing her gently, he nuzzled her ear.

"As long as I have you," Sacha murmured, "I can be as patient as necessary." He didn't want her to force herself, to feel as though she had to please him. Just having her in his arms again was sufficient, for now.

Another step back- Alise found her legs pressed against the back of the bed as her face nuzzled her husband's neck. Her tongue traced a pattern on the his neck, an attempt to work through her nerves. Her needed this, yet her body was replused by it. If this led to another child... she couldn't deal with it.

Pushing that thought aside, Alise brought her lips to his gently to allow him to take control.

Taking the warmth of her lips against his as permission, Sacha's deepened the kiss, his hands roaming down to the hem of her shirt. He pulled back only to tug the garment up and off, and then he was kissing her again, hands reverently caressing her exposed flesh.

Gently bearing her down to the mattress, he left her lips to trail kisses along her jaw, down her neck, across her collar...

He needed this - they needed this. But Sacha would be using contraception, this time. Even though they were married, he didn't think either them would be ready to face the possibility of another child, so soon. The man wouldn't risk putting her through that again. Perhaps, in the future, but not for now. Right now, all he wanted was to make love to his wife and forget all else, just for a while.

Her hair a dark tangle across the sheets, Alise watched Sacha with wide, desperate eyes. Her hands were already pulled off his shirt as her heart sped its beats it preparation for the events about to occur. Her legs wrapped around his midsection with a slight squeeze.

"Sacha," she whispered, voice cracked with pure want, "Merry Christmas, love,"

Then, she drifted off into the blur of the night.

Some time later...

Sacha lay holding Alise in his arms, simply enjoying the pleasure of her proximity. He breathed in the scent of her hair. How he had missed this, such moments with her. Such a short time, really, and yet already she had become very dear to him.

He nuzzled her ear, feeling rather affectionate. "I love you, Alise," he murmured.

Taking time to enjoy her surroundings- his breaths, his gentle touch, the over all sense of Sacha- Alise looked at him with a grateful expression, barely visible in the dark room. At his voice, she pulled him closer. A sign of her appreciation, she kissed his jaw softly with a sigh.

"Merry Christmas, Sacha," she replied, settling into the mattress. "I'll miss you when school starts back up again,"

"Merry Christmas, Alise," Sacha returned, unmistakable warmth in his tone. He felt happy and content for the first time he could recall in months. Stroking a strand of hair behind her ear, he pressed a light kiss against her lips.

"I'll make more time for you, this term," he promised. "Last term... I shouldn't have let myself get so caught up in my work. I apologize."

Alise pressed her lips back into his, enjoying this short lived high. Her body rolled to be on top of his, hair dangling in the same stop it just was as if it was taunting him

"Good," she murmured, dotting another kiss on his lips, "I also want to start planning that wedding you promised me. My mother's been writing about meeting you, anyway,"

It wasn't the real reason she wanted a wedding, though. She needed a distraction from her life at the moment. In those lonely times, she'd slip drinks behind Ketty's back (she doubted the house elf was oblivious to her actions, however) or "forget" a meal again. A wedding would keep her busy and Sacha happy.

A rare smile spread across Sacha's features. He tucked the strand of hair behind her ear once more, gently caressing her cheek, his other resting against the small of her back.

"Shall we?" he returned. "I've been meaning to show off my beautiful wife, though, meeting your mother would also be nice." For his part, that was only part of his reasoning behind wanting a formal ceremony. Yes, he did, in fact, wish for the world to know that he was married to a beautiful woman (even though many knew of his marriage, there were many who still did not). But, he too needed the distraction, something pleasant and happy to look forward to.

A means to start over again and forget their heartache.

Sacha's thumb lightly stroked back and forth along the bare flesh of Alise's back. The hand caressing her cheek moved around to cup the back of her neck. Bringing his lips to hers, he kissed her again, tongue teasing her lips for permission to explore her mouth.

Alise matched his grin and placed a hand over his, a single hum of contentment rising in her throat. She could stay here forever, she decided. Stay within his touch, his sight- that was her dream. Her completely unreasonable dream.

His hands guiding her, she leaned into the kiss. Instead of opening her lips for him, his defiantly kept her mouth shut in an attempt of rebellion. She then leaned back again, trying to act nonchalant, despite the knowing smile on her face.

"Beautiful, hm?" she said, her fingers tracing a pattern on his chest.