Date: 2009-01-20 10:11 am (UTC)
"Khorosho," Taras muttered.

He picked up the bottle Liadov had indicated and took a sharp swig, grimacing as it went down.

"Da, all right. Because he's not done with you."

Taras paused, wiping his mouth with the back of his bare hand.

Liadov's body did not carry the brittle tension Taras expected. Instead, the set of his shoulders looked weary, held upright by pride alone.

"So you're not angry anymore."
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