>it's dark
>"anoooooon..."
>fuck man, it's too early to get up
>"get up cyka, I'm making breakfast"
"It's too... Early"
>"fine, have it your way"
>you feel all of your breath disappear from your lungs as a weight slams onto your stomach
>FUCKFUCKFUCK NO AIR
>your eyes flick open as you lurch up, gasping for breath
>as you sit in bed struggling for breath, you look down to see the source of your suffering
>a mass of fluffy blonde hair and a red hoodie
"God damnit... Why do you do this"
>she turns onto her back to look up at you
>"I told you to get up..."
>fair enough
"Alright... So what was this about breakfast ?"
>"you'll like it, trust me"
"Why are you always so vague ?"
>"why aren't you ?"
"Anyway. How are you going to make anything if you're laying on top of me"
>she pauses for a second then looks back at you
>"right... Be downstairs soon"
>after that she hopped off the bed and practically skipped out of the room 



>that hoodie she had on went about halfway down her thigh
>was she actually wearing anything else? 
>anon stop. That's lewd
>you slowly shamble out of bed and onto your feet, shuffling into the shower
>you toss your shirts into the hamper as you pad into the bathroom, turning on the shower
>the water itself is cold as fuck, but you probably need it
(Imagine "you make me crazy" by streets if you can, playing in the background)
>it's been two months since you bought your svd
>apparently nobody clued you in that they're well... People
>there were a few awkward moments, you may have left her out in a snow storm
>things were good though
>she was definitely NOT appreciative of the jokes about her looking like a psl though
>by the time you finish your thoughts, you're out of the shower and dressed
>now you get to enjoy a breakfast you didn't have to make yourself



>you grab a grey t-shirt from your dresser and head down stairs, putting it on on the way down the stairs
>once you get down, you peek into the kitchen
>she's standing in front of the stove, focusing intently on something in the pan in front of her.
>despite this, her tail swishes back and forth
>unf
>you walk into the kitchen to see what's happening
"Hey there"
>she turns toward you
>"you're up! Alright, you're going to love this. I made...-"
>you decide to interrupt her before she spoils anything
"I'll let you finish, but I've got a question."
>she looks at you deflatedly
"Since when do you cook? Don't you remember the microwave incident ?"
>"oh stop that, you only set a microwave on fire once!"
"Really though. I've never seen you actually cooking, you're always doing other things"
>she diverts her attention from the stove again to speak
>"I might be a rifle, that doesn't mean I'm not still feminine you jerk. What kind of girl can't cook?"
"My ex girlfriend"
>"what?"
>that was out loud
"What ?"
>"never mind, I don't even want to know"
>that's good.
>fuck she was crazy


>"so as I was saying, I made some pancakes using condensed milk and a few other ingredients I think you'll like"
>that sounds fairly nice actually
"What did I do to deserve you ?"
>"dunno, had a few hundred dollars and some manners...-"
"Oh don't flatter me"
>"among other things"
>she turns back to the stove and carries on, leaving you to... existing. Standing there like an idiot
>she catches on fast
>turning her head, she asks you
>"how about instead of playing the statue game you set the table, please ?"
"Don't have to tell me twice"
>with that you set to work
>plates, cups, all the fun stuff was out by the time your rifle was done cooking


>a few minutes later, both of you were eating some glorious pancakes 
>then it occurs to you
>she never actually told you her name
>you asked but she never really answered...
>this is a problem
>she looks up at you from her plate curious
>"what's with the face you're making ? Do you not like the pancakes ?"
>quite the opposite
"They're great, but there's something you never actually told me..."
>"umm... alright ? What was it ?"
"Your name"
>she thinks back a moment before looking like a kid who just aced a math test
>"feel free to call me Anya"
>Anya... that's nice...
"Alright Anya... what do you want to do today ?" 


>she looks at you
>then the pancakes in front of her
>then back at you before speaking
>"if I knew the answer we'd already be doing it"
"That's... an answer I guess"
>"yep!"
>Anya goes back to eating her pancakes
>this is going to be a boring .
>after a good ten minutes, the food and dishes are done 
>"English is weird"
>what ?
"What's that supposed to mean?"
>she looks at you from where she stands in the kitchen
>"i mean, having to physically examine the language, you notice weird stuff"
"Oh do go on, but can we at least talk on the couch or something ?"
>"yeah yeah, hurry up"
>you head to the couch with her closely behind you. 
>once you're on the couch, she positions herself so that her head is in your lap, feet dangling off the armrest"
>"alright, so..."
"So ?"
>" you drive on parkways, but park on driveways. Explain."
>why is this conversation happening
"I didn't make the language, don't know what to tell you."
>"what's the point of subjectives too ? If someone can't understand what's going on off of circumstance then why are they involved? You should just learn Russian, it would be easier"
"I'd love to, but the writing system is borderline autistic"
>she looks over at you angrily
>"I... well... at least it isn't kanji"
>this is true



>you look down at her, rubbing her ear like she was a pet before replying
"Yeah... fuck kanji. So anyway, what's bringing on this whole Russian language thing ?"
>"I don't know... don't you think it would be nice to visit Russia ? Imagine St. Petersburg in the winter !"
>fuck... she want to do vacations
>you don't make nearly enough money for that
"I don't know how to tell you this...-"
>she interrupts
>"you're afraid of actual Russian people? Or is it something else that worries you ?"
"I don't make the money to fund something like that."
>she shuts her eyes while exhaling a deep breath for a moment before looking right at you 
>"I have an idea to fund a vacation"
>oh boy
"Please do tell"
>"you'd say I know English well, right?"
"Better than most blacks at least"
>"so, I could do English lessons for people around here and some of the novorussians for a bit of extra money"
>eh fuck it
"I don't see why not, go for it"
>she starts squeezing your neck tight as she pulls you down and hugs you
>"thank you! I really want to be able to see home with you !"
"Well I'm glad, with a second income we could do some neat things"
>"like what ?"


"Like me taking you to Petersburg"
>"oh yeah"
>she promptly gets her head off of your lap and rolls off the couch, heading upstairs
"Where are you going"
>"making advertisements, stupid"
>fair enough
"Alright then, you do you"
>things passed rather neatly 
>In a few days, Anya had compiled a nice list of resources and appointments
>supposedly she planned on using you as an aptitude test for students, so that's neat
>after receiving a few phone calls in Russian you started tossing the phone at Anya whenever it was an unknown number
>it is now Friday night, about 6:30
>the first appointment or lesson was today with some guy named vadim
>you hear a knock on the door and go to answer it, but Anya rushes past you
>"it's for me, just focus on whatever you were doing!"
>you weren't doing anything
>she answers the door and quickly starts speaking to the guy, ushering him to the kitchen table 
>you decided to sit down and read a book for once, until she decided to call you over


>"anooooon, come here"
>alrighty, time to make a Russian guy uncomfortable in a different language
>you walk into the kitchen and sit down at the square table
>the conversation ends about as well as it starts, hilariously poorly
>it was fine though
>he left at around seven, giving Anya a few bills on the way out
>as soon as the door shuts, she turns to you and flashes a grin
>"guess who just made fifty dollars"
"A prostitute with a sore jaw ?"
>"rude"
>to be fair
"I never said it wasn't, but seriously though. Did he really pay you fifty dollars ?"
>"unless these are fake bills, then yeah. Fifty US dollars"
"Nice. What now ?"
>"honestly, I'm tired so I might just sleep early. Wanna join ?"
>now that you think about it, you're a bit tired too
"Yeah, i think I'll go to sleep with you"
>she turns back to you as she goes up the stairs
>"you couldn't make that sound more sexual if you tried. Calm down there"
"Not sure if that's a challenge or a statement"
>"just come on already"