The next morning, the city woke slowly, sunlight spilling over frost-tipped rooftops. Nikolai sat at the small table in his hotel room, coffee in hand, staring at the street below.
Lucia's laugh from last night echoed in his mind. He hadn't expected to feel so… pulled toward someone in this city he barely knew. The thought unsettled him, but in a way that felt almost welcome. Almost.
His phone buzzed on the table. He picked it up reflexively, expecting another call from Markov or-God forbid-some reminder of the past he was trying to outrun. It wasn't. Just a message from Elena: "Coffee later?"
Nikolai smiled faintly, replying quickly, but as he typed, a small knot tightened in his chest. Mikhail. He wondered what Mikhail was doing right now. Training? Eating? Thinking about him? He pressed the thought away. He had come here for a reason, to carve out a new life. And yet… some part of him ached to hear Mikhail's voice, to know that anger and distance hadn't become permanent walls.
He finished his coffee, drained the last warmth from the mug, and set it down carefully. Today would be about survival, about blending into this new life. And maybe, just maybe, about learning how to exist somewhere without looking over his shoulder.
Nikolai stirred his coffee, watching the steam curl upward. Elena leaned back in her chair, eyes bright.
"So," she said, grinning, "how's Toronto treating you? Don't tell me the city's already chewing you up."
"Not yet," Nikolai replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "I like what I've seen so far."
Elena laughed, the sound light and easy. "That's the spirit! You're doing fine, trust me. You handled my friends last night like a pro. I didn't think anyone could survive Harry's questions."
he admitted, smirking slightly. "Barely."
"Barely counts as surviving,"
Elena laughed, then leaned in conspiratorially. "You should check out that little bookstore on Maple Street. Cozy place, great for… thinking. You'll like it."
He nodded, memorizing the name. "Thanks. I'll check it out."
She glanced at her phone and groaned. "Ugh, my client! I completely forgot about this design draft. I have to run. I'm sorry!"
Nikolai watched as she gathered her bag, waved goodbye, and hurried out into the morning sunlight. The café felt quieter suddenly.
With Elena's tip in mind, Nikolai walked a few blocks to Maple Street. The bookstore was tucked between two buildings, its sign weathered but charming. He pushed open the door, a small bell jingling overhead.
Inside, the warm scent of old paper and ink greeted him. Rows of shelves created little private corners, and in one of those, a figure hunched over a notebook caught his eye. Black curls fell across her face as she scribbled something quickly, lips moving slightly in concentration.
Nikolai stepped closer, drawn in. "Hi," he said softly.
The girl looked up, startled, then relaxed slightly when she recognized him. "Oh… hi," she replied, a small smile forming.
"I didn't mean to interrupt," he said, nodding toward her notebook.
"You're not," she assured him, closing the notebook gently. "Can I help you with anything?"
He pulled a chair across from her, feeling a rare sense of ease. "Mind if I join you?"
"Not at all," she said.
For a few minutes, they simply sat together, exchanging small stories-favorite books, little habits, the quirks of the city. Nikolai found himself laughing softly at her observations.
Lucia leaned back slightly in her chair, pen tapping against her notebook. "So… Sam," she said softly, "tell me about yourself. Your parents, siblings… if that's okay with you."
Nikolai hesitated, a strange tightness settling in his chest. He couldn't tell her the truth but he didn't want to disappoint her. After a beat, he gave a small, carefully measured smile. "Of course," he said, letting his voice stay steady. "I never really knew my mum, and my dad… he's in the military. My older brother, Michael, is too."
Lucia's eyes lit up with interest. "Oh, that's cool! Why didn't you join?"
He shrugged lightly, keeping it casual. "I… I'm not really cut out for that."
She studied him for a moment, curiosity softening into a kind of quiet understanding. "Hmm. Makes sense. Not everyone's meant to follow orders. Some people… carve their own path."
Nikolai felt the faintest tug of relief at her response, even as the lie lingered between them. "Yeah… carving my own path, I guess," he murmured.
They fell into a comfortable rhythm, Before Lucia spoke again "How is your English so good? and I can barely hear an accent"
Nikolai shrugged, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Oh… I learnt English a while back. It's kind of easy for me to imitate accents that I hear. I don't know… it just sticks."
"Wow," she said, clearly impressed. "What other languages do you know?"
"I know a total of seven," Nikolai replied casually, though he noticed her eyes widen in awe.
"OMG, that's amazing! What are they?"
"Guess," he said, playful.
She scrunched her nose, thinking. "English, Italian, French?"
"Yes," he said with a nod, encouraging her. "Go on."
"Um… Spanish?"
"Exactly. You're really good at this," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.
She laughed, the sound soft and genuine. "Greek?"
"Nope," Nikolai chuckled.
"Oh, come on! So what are the other three?"
"Russian, Mandarin, and Arabic," he said, keeping his tone light, but a small shadow crossed his features.
"You're… so impressive," she breathed, clearly in awe.
"How did you learn all of that?" she asked, leaning forward.
"Well… honestly, my dad made me learn them all," he admitted.
"But… why that many?"
"I have no idea," Nikolai said, his smile softening. "My brother knows even more than I do… fluently. He's really cool."
For a brief moment, his frown returned, distant and subtle, as he thought of Mikhail, the brother he could barely reach, the one who haunted the edges of his mind. He shook it off quickly, forcing the shadow to vanish. "Anyway… that's enough about me. Your turn, what about you?"
Lucia's lips curved into a small smile, though her eyes lingered on him a second longer, sensing there was more beneath his calm, controlled exterior. "I'll tell you… but only if you promise not to be impressed just to be polite," she teased lightly.
Nikolai grinned faintly, letting himself relax just a little. "I can't promise that."
"Well, I speak English and a little Italian," Lucia said, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm half Canadian, half Italian."
Nikolai nodded. "Ok that's nice."
She shrugged, smiling faintly. "My dad's a lawyer. My brother and I are studying law. I guess that makes me… boring."
Nikolai tilted his head, considering her. "Boring? Not really. That just sounds… normal."
Lucia laughed softly. "Normal's fine and easier to deal with."
He said nothing, just nodded, letting her words hang between them. He noticed she hadn't mentioned her mum, and he didn't ask.
"Okay, so we have the Leaning Tower of Pisa in common," he said, trying to crack a joke, though part of him mentally scolded himself...it wasn't funny.
But she laughed anyway, a genuine, easy sound that made him grin despite himself.
"I guess so," she said, shaking her head with a smile.
He let the moment linger, "Do you… visit Italy often?"
"No, I don't." she admitted. " You?"
"Once or twice," he said. "Short trips. Mostly just… sightseeing."
She raised an eyebrow, amused. "Sounds fancy."
A soft patter started against the windows, It was barely noticeable at first.
She glanced over her shoulder toward the glass storefront, watching droplets gather and race each other down. "That came out of nowhere."
"Yeah," he said, following her gaze.
It was only then he noticed how quiet it had gotten.
He looked around. The low hum of earlier conversations was gone. There was no footsteps between shelves or distant rustle of pages. Just the rain… and them.
"I think…" he trailed off, turning slowly, "we might be the only ones left."
She blinked, surprised, then let out a small laugh. "Seriously?"
He took a few steps toward the front, peering out past the dim lights. The street outside was already thinning, people rushing under umbrellas, headlights streaking through the rain.
"No staff either," he added. "Or they're hiding."
"That's… slightly concerning," she said, though she didn't sound worried, more amused than anything.
"Worst case scenario," he said, leaning lightly against a shelf, "we're locked in a bookstore."
She pretended to think about it. "Tragic."
"Truly."
The rain picked up, harder now, drumming steadily. The sound wrapped around them, closing the space in, making everything feel smaller… more private.
He hesitated.
Then, before he could overthink it-before that voice in his head could ruin it.
"Hey, um…" He shifted his weight, suddenly very aware of his hands, his voice, everything. "Could I-could I get your number?"
It came out softer than he intended.
For a second, she just looked at him.
Then she smiled warmly.
"I was wondering when you'd ask," she said.
He blinked. "You were?"
She moved a little closer, pulling her phone from her bag. "You're not as subtle as you think."
He let out a breath, half relieved, half embarrassed. "Good to know."
She handed him her phone. "Go on."
His fingers accidently brushed hers as he took it
Except neither of them pulled away immediately.
Then he cleared his throat, typing his number in, handing it back.
Few seconds later his screen lit up, with her number
"Now I have yours too," she said.
"Smart."
The lights flickered, leaving the entire bookstore in darkness. She gasped softly, instinctively reaching out, her hand gently catching his sleeve.
"Okay," she whispered, a small laugh slipping through, "that's new."
He felt it. that slight grip, her closeness in the dark-and for some reason, it made his heart kick a little faster.
"Don't panic," he said, though his voice was lower now, steadier. "but I think this is our cue to leave."
"yeah, you're right."
"Alright, that didn't sound reassuring."
She laughed again, quieter this time.
The lightning outside briefly illuminated the space and in that split second, he saw her properly, closer than before, still holding onto him.
The thunder followed, loud and rolling, making the both of them squeal and jump a bit. Then, somewhere deeper in the store, something shifted, a book falling, maybe… or a door moving.
She tightened her grip just slightly.
"…Okay," she said, barely above a whisper now. "Tell me you heard that."
He did.
And instead of stepping away
he leaned in just a fraction closer.
"Yeah," he said softly. "I did." looking more frightened than ever.
"Hey-"
"Ahh-!"
Nikolai jerked back, the sound escaping him before he could stop it.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," the staff member rushed out, lowering the flashlight a little. "I didn't mean to scare you, I just wanted to let you know I'm closing the store soon."
Nikolai straightened almost instantly, dragging a hand down his jacket like he could smooth the moment away. "No-it's fine," he said quickly, voice a little too firm.
The staff nodded apologetically and moved off again, leaving them in that dim, amber-lit quiet.
He turned to Lucia, clearing his throat, posture resetting like nothing had happened.
"She didn't scare me."
Lucia stared at him for half a second.
Then she laughed.
Not softly this time, open, bright and completely unconvinced.
"Right," she said, folding her arms, eyes dancing. "That was definitely the reaction of someone not scared."
"I was startled," he corrected, lifting a finger slightly, as if that made it better. "There's a difference."
"Mm-hmm."
"I mean it."
"Of course you do."
He exhaled, trying not to smile, but failing a little. "You're enjoying this way too much."
"A little," she admitted, tilting her head, studying him again-but this time there was something softer underneath the teasing. "It's just… unexpected."
"What is?"
"You," she said simply.
He frowned slightly. "How so?"
She shrugged, stepping a little closer, her voice quieter now. "You seem like the type who's always in control."
He let out a small breath, glancing away for a second. "That's a lot of pressure for someone you just met."
She smiled. "And then you scream in a bookstore."
"That did not-" he stopped, exhaling again as her expression didn't change. "Okay, fine. That might have happened."
"Might."
He shook his head, a quiet laugh escaping him now.
But when he looked back at her, she was still watching him only now there was no teasing in it. Just warmth.
"I like it," she said.
He blinked. "Like what?"
"That you're not as put together as you pretend to be."
There was a small pause.
"It makes you easier to talk to."
Something in his expression shifted slightly
"Good," he said, almost under his breath.
From the front, keys jingled again.
"Whenever you're ready!" the staff called out.
Lucia glanced toward the door, then back at him.
"Come on," she said, a hint of that earlier spark returning. "Let's see if you can withstand the rain without screaming this time."
He raised a brow. "No promises."
The door opened, and the rain met them instantly -cool, steady, tapping softly against the pavement.
Lucia stepped just beneath the awning, careful this time, glancing up at the sky."This is going to take a while," she said.
"You waiting it out?" he asked.
She shook her head, already pulling her phone from her bag. "No. My driver's nearby."
There was a brief pause as she checked the screen, her expression softening.
"He's almost here."
"Convenient," he said, though there was something quieter behind it.
"A little," she admitted.
Neither of them moved. The rain filled the silence for them.
Headlights appeared in the distance, growing brighter as they approached.
"That's him," she said, though she didn't step forward immediately.
She turned back to him.
"So…" she started, then stopped, a small smile slipping in. "I guess I'll see you around?"
"You better," he said.
She studied him for a second-like she was deciding something-then nodded.
"Text me," she added.
"I will."
She stepped closer-just enough to feel it-then leaned in, brushing a quick kiss against his cheek.
"Goodnight, Sam."
He blinked, caught off guard in a way he hadn't been all evening.
"Goodnight, Lucia."
She slipped into the car, the door closing softly behind her.
He stood there as it pulled away, headlights fading into the rain.
By the time he started walking, the rain had softened to a steady drizzle.
His hands slipped into his pockets, shoulders relaxing now that there was no one watching.
The city felt different on the way back Or It was just him. He smiled and brushed the part of his face where her lips touched.
A faint buzz pulled him from his thoughts.
His phone.
He stopped under a dim streetlight, pulling it out.
A new contact.
Lucia.
He stared at the name for a moment, thumb hovering over the screen.
Then he tapped it open.
The empty chat blinked back at him.
He typed:
Hey.
he thought the message was to simple and nonchalant so he deleted it and tried again
Did you get home okay?
He stared at that one longer.
Then exhaled, shaking his head slightly, and erased it too.
"Idiot," he muttered under his breath.
His thumb hovered again.
then drifted.
Down the screen.
To another name. Misha
His expression shifted, just slightly, before he tapped on his name
The conversation opened. it was filled with old and infrequent messages
The last one was probably 3 days ago.
He read it again, even though he already knew what it said.
His fingers moved before he could overthink it this time.
Hey.
please text me back, I miss you and I'm so sorry for just leaving, I wish I hadn't
Canada is really cool though, One day we have to come here together
He stared at it.
Longer than he had with hers.
The rain tapped lightly against the pavement around him, softer now, almost distant.
For a moment, he felt lost and Markov hadn't reached out to him
His thumb hovered over the screen.
the phone buzzed suddenly in his hand.
He flinched, surprised.
A new message.
From Lucia.
Don't overthink it. Just text me 🙂
He blinked.
Then let out a quiet laugh, something warm breaking through the hesitation.
Shaking his head, he looked down at the screen again.
This time, he wasn't alone and whatever this feeling was, it had already begun to change everything