He held his glass to his lips but did not drink, frowning.
"Da, right. You wouldn't want to..."
Was betray the right word, he wondered.
No, he reasoned a moment, later. The act was not the issue at all. It was that Lasha didn't want to get caught.
He wondered what it meant, for him.
Even if Isaev and Liadov did not reconcile immediately, his very presence in Leningrad would change things, because Lasha would act differently.
No more fucking secretaries over desks, no more whores, not that Taras wanted them, maybe even no more opera and no more theatre, and no more spending evenings in each other's company, all because Lasha wouldn't want Liadov to get the wrong idea. Or the right one.
Taras wasn't sure which it was.
He felt vaguely ill for a moment, thinking about it, like the nausea that came after a gut punch.
He took a long swallow of cognac.
"If," Taras said slowly, staring at the stove, "if he comes back, things are going to change, da?"
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2009-08-13 09:17 pm (UTC)He held his glass to his lips but did not drink, frowning.
"Da, right. You wouldn't want to..."
Was betray the right word, he wondered.
No, he reasoned a moment, later. The act was not the issue at all. It was that Lasha didn't want to get caught.
He wondered what it meant, for him.
Even if Isaev and Liadov did not reconcile immediately, his very presence in Leningrad would change things, because Lasha would act differently.
No more fucking secretaries over desks, no more whores, not that Taras wanted them, maybe even no more opera and no more theatre, and no more spending evenings in each other's company, all because Lasha wouldn't want Liadov to get the wrong idea. Or the right one.
Taras wasn't sure which it was.
He felt vaguely ill for a moment, thinking about it, like the nausea that came after a gut punch.
He took a long swallow of cognac.
"If," Taras said slowly, staring at the stove, "if he comes back, things are going to change, da?"