He had never particularly noticed Khartov's eyes, beautiful or otherwise, except to note when Khartov was watching him. He supposed if he really thought about it, he could see -
His hand clenched, convulsively, and he grimaced.
"I talked to Barshai," he said, quickly.
Taras shook himself, looking around, trying to decide where to sit.
"He answered the phone."
He rejected the nearby chairs, and the chaise, finally deciding to just sit on the floor near Ilarion. Taras grabbed the bottle of cognac first, and sat it between them.
"He's not a bad guy, Barshai. You know, polite and shit. Doesn't hold a grudge."
Taras eased himself to the floor. Touching distance of Lasha, if he reached out, just a little.
"He said it was raining in Leningrad too," he added.
He felt something strange pang in his chest, and he looked at Isaev suddenly, searching.
Taras didn't know what he was looking for, and wasn't sure if he wanted to find it.
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He had never particularly noticed Khartov's eyes, beautiful or otherwise, except to note when Khartov was watching him. He supposed if he really thought about it, he could see -
His hand clenched, convulsively, and he grimaced.
"I talked to Barshai," he said, quickly.
Taras shook himself, looking around, trying to decide where to sit.
"He answered the phone."
He rejected the nearby chairs, and the chaise, finally deciding to just sit on the floor near Ilarion. Taras grabbed the bottle of cognac first, and sat it between them.
"He's not a bad guy, Barshai. You know, polite and shit. Doesn't hold a grudge."
Taras eased himself to the floor. Touching distance of Lasha, if he reached out, just a little.
"He said it was raining in Leningrad too," he added.
He felt something strange pang in his chest, and he looked at Isaev suddenly, searching.
Taras didn't know what he was looking for, and wasn't sure if he wanted to find it.
"I guess...he's used to you being around."