Valera watched his reaction with cold eyes. The anger which had tensed every one of the lithe muscles in her willowy frame longed to make him hurt. He'd made her hurt, so he deserved nothing less than hurt in return, now didn't he. He was leaving her, like so many others had before him. She really should have just kept her distance to begin with. That was the problem. But he'd somehow gotten in under her skin. And that had actually ended up being just fine and dandy up until right now. Because right now he was taking that away, and no amount of alcohol was going to be able to blur that fact.<br/><br/>And then he was moving forward, arms extended like the nets of a fishing boat. Valera took a step back, hands raising to try and keep him away. What, did he want to try to somehow twist the knife now that he'd stabbed her? No no no no no. She couldn't let him get close, because then he might pull tears out of her again and that was simply not allowed.<br/><br/>But she had not been quick enough to evade those arms, just like she hadn't been quick enough to avoid actually getting tangled up in this boy. As he pulled her in close, she braced herself against him, twisting to somehow avoid this. But the subtle scent of him was now in her nose and those warm arms were holding tight, keeping her from the distance she needed to maintain the attitude she'd decided to handle this with.<strong>"Отпусти меня..."</strong><em>(Let me go..)</em>The Russian words fell from her lips in the form of an irritated hiss, though there was a hint of desperation there as well. V's hands worked to get some sort of fingerhold in somewhere or something. Anything to get him to turn her loose. But she had been caught, and in more ways than the simple physical capture he'd just achieved. Her body couldn't help but recall the last time she'd been pressed so close to him, despite the fact that she kept fighting the memory and the urge to just let go and grieve. No! Not here. Later, yes. In her room where no one could see and judge her on her weakness.<br/><br/>Perfectly shaped and painted nails dug into his shoulders as she tried to push herself away. But he wouldn't allow it. As one hand held her close, the other reached up and tucked her head neatly into his shoulder. And that was when the smell of him washed completely over her and she stilled. Every line of her was still tense, but she'd stopped outwardly fighting the embrace. The girl's lips pressed tightly into a thin line, hands still holding fistfuls of his shirt, as she turned the battle inward, attempting to bolster walls that were crumbling far too fast. No! She was Valera freaking Ivanova, damnit! She didn't need<em>anyone</em>! Least of all some little boy toy. Even a boy toy she'd kept around months longer than was her norm.....even one she'd made so many exceptions for. And wasn't this just proof of why one<em>shouldn't</em>lean too heavily on other people? Because, sooner or later, other people disappointed you. In the best of cases, they simply got annoying, but in the worst of cases...well....they could really hurt you, couldn't they?<br/><br/>She listened mutely to his apologies, jaw clenching slightly as he reiterated the fact that he wasn't coming back. And because he couldn't afford it? What a stupid reason. With all his friends, did he really think that there wouldn't be a few willing to help chip in to see him again? There was a growing sense of numbness inside that she welcomed with open arms. It wasn't quite as good as the cold, but well...considering his proximity, cold wasn't much of an option right now. She'd tried the cold. And he'd thawed it. So maybe the answer was numbness. If she couldn't feel ANYthing it would make this easier, would it not? Still, there was a streak of anger that kept rearing it's head out of that bliss. The anger, which had been so welcome before, was interfering with the numb. He was sorry, was he? Well that was fine and dandy for him, now wasn't it. Maybe it was what he needed to tell himself to feel better about it. Well whatever. He could BE sorry. She wasn't going to forgive this just like that. She couldn't grasp the concept of being<em>needed</em>at home. For all her young-adult life, the only place she'd needed to be was Hogwarts, and even then she still had taken off at the end of her sixth year and no one had said a word against her. As long as she didn't do anything to besmirch the family name, her parents could care less what she did with herself. And clearly her siblings must feel the same, as they'd all abandoned her to live out dreams of their own.<br/><br/>The hot press of tears threatened those blue-greens and she shoved the memories back, farther away from herself where they couldn't effect her so badly. That stiffness returned to her posture, though she made her hands unclench and let them simply rest against his chest. What did he expect her to say?<em>It's okay, I understand.</em>? Right....yeah no. Because she<em>didn't</em>understand. In her world, if you wanted something, you made it happen, it was as simple as that. Clearly he did not want whatever it was that they had, because well....he wasn't making it happen. So......what? Now the choice was hers? The question was, did she want what they had badly enough to fight to keep it? It was a strange thought. Never had she ever fought for a relationship before. No, instead she'd pushed the overly eager away, out of the picture entirely. She'd kept everything light and simple. Which was why what they'd had had been so perfect. Granted, there had been moments when her instincts had questioned why she wasn't pressing it for more than what it was. But those moments had been easily brushed aside. But now that she was facing its complete loss, she really took a moment to set everything aside.<br/><br/>The girl had gone quiet, the tense resistance ebbing slowly out of her frame as she contemplated whatever this had been and whether or not it was something that she wanted to keep badly enough to fight for it. She knew she should be answering him somehow, but this was too important to just throw a piece of generic conversation at. How did she really feel? She enjoyed his company immensely, that was without a doubt. And Merlin knew the sex was good. They were so very different, and yet, somehow it still worked. He could almost always brighten up her day just by walking into the same room and that, in a nutshell, was why she'd let their little thing continue for as long as it had. Because she'd needed some sunshine in her life when all around her was wolves and power moves. Because, damnit, she deserved some small happiness. And if he disappeared.....if her 'feel-good' pick-me-up walked out of her life... No. No, this was not allowed. She couldn't afford to lose him. The problem was that she had no idea how to make him stay. Oh sure, she could throw money at him, fix all his problems, and keep him around in that way. But deep down she knew there was no way he'd accept it. Her own sense of pride informed her that if someone tried to fix<em>her</em>problems like that she would not exactly be welcoming of it. But then...how?