I chuckled. Sophie had been very excited to hear about the cats.
She held up a stuffed dragon, green and sparkly and absolutely ridiculous. I looked at Kostya, expecting to see amusement or barely concealed mockery. Instead, he was studying the dragon with genuine consideration.
"Zmeya would eat her cousin," he said seriously. "No family loyalty in that one."
"That's why Princess Scales lives here," Sophie continued, not missing a beat. "Protective custody from her feral cousin."
She handed me the dragon, then passed Kostya the bear. He held it with the same care he'd use for a weapon, if weapons were fluffy and had button eyes.
"Tea party or battle?" Sophie asked, like these were equally valid options.
"Battle," Kostya said immediately. "Mr. Buttons has been talking shit about Princess Scales' hoard."
My jaw dropped. "You did not just make up stuffed animal drama."
"Mr. Buttons is a known instigator," he said with complete seriousness. "Look at his face. Clear troublemaker."
Sophie was already laughing, pulling out more animals. "Okay, but Princess Scales has allies. This is Sir Hops—" a rabbit "—and Lady Whiskers—" a cat. "They'll defend her honor."
What followed was the most ridiculous twenty minutes of my life. Kostya narrated an entire stuffed animal war with the commitment of someone planning an actual tactical strike. Mr. Buttons apparently had gambling debts. Princess Scales was running a protection racket. Sir Hops was secretly in love with Lady Whiskers but couldn't confess because of the ongoing territorial dispute.
He did voices. Different voices for each animal. The Beast of Brighton Beach gave a teddy bear a New Jersey accent and made a stuffed rabbit sound like a British aristocrat.
I laughed until my stomach hurt. Laughed until tears streamed down my face. Sophie was no better, collapsed against the table, wheezing about Mr. Buttons' dramatic death scene where Kostya had him confessing his sins in increasingly ridiculous detail.
"He leaves his button collection to charity," Kostya intoned solemnly, making the bear flop dramatically. "His honey stocks go to his estranged brother, Theodore Buttons, who lives in Vermont and makes artisanal jam."
"Stop," I gasped, barely able to breathe. "Stop, I can't—"
"Mr. Buttons' death cannot be in vain," he continued, completely committed to the bit. "Princess Scales must learn the cost of power."
Sophie threw Lady Whiskers at his head. "You're insane. You're completely insane."
"I'm thorough," he corrected, catching the cat easily. "Lady Whiskers would never engage in violence. She's a pacifist. Says so in her backstory."
"Since when does she have backstory?" Sophie demanded.
"Since now. She studied philosophy at cat university. Wrote her thesis on non-violent resistance in territorial disputes."
I was crying now, actual tears, but from joy. From the complete absurdity of this moment. This man, who'd probably broken someone's fingers that morning, was creating elaborate histories for stuffed animals because it made me laugh. Because in this safe space, he could be silly and gentle and completely unlike the monster the world knew him as.
"You're perfect," I said without thinking, the words escaping on a laugh.
Everything stopped. Sophie went quiet. Kostya's hands stilled on the stuffed bear. The air in the room shifted, became charged with something bigger than play.
"I'm not," he said quietly, all humor gone from his voice.
"You are," I insisted, crawling closer in his lap, cupping his scarred face in my small hands. "You're perfect for me. My perfect Daddy who makes up stories about teddy bear gambling debts."
His eyes searched mine, looking for the lie, the platitude. Finding none. Because I meant it. Every word.
"Disgusting," Sophie said again, but she was smiling. "Absolutely nauseating. I'm telling Nikolai you two are worse than us."
"Impossible," Kostya said, pulling me closer. "Have you seen yourself with him? Like teenagers."
"We're in love," Sophie defended.
"So are we," I said, and felt Kostya's arms tighten around me.
