Beauty Marks

Struggling to keep her eyes open to watch the hockey game, Anastasia shifted her body in a weak attempt to alert her mind and stay awake. The warm blankets fought to induce sleep regardless of the strong motives she had. There was only eight minutes to clock out the last period, a short time span for the St. Louis Blues to obtain a lead and win the game. That meant in roughly an hour, the young woman's boyfriend would be returning home, hopefully with a victory to congratulate.

It had become a habit, fueled by love in her opinion, to praise and cherish the efforts he displayed in every game. Anastasia knew how serious the sport was to him, how much pressure his family placed onto him. The ambition was a quality that many admired, but never did she take for granted the strength to keep moving forward. Thus, with each return to the house, she put away his sports bags, poured a cup of his favorite drink, and gave him space to call his grandfather. Once all that was done, did she finally coo about his endeavors and hug it out. Then, not wasting a minute to tumble over from exhaustion, the two settled into bed and went to sleep.

Anastasia had failed before in this retrospect, giving in to her heavy eyes and comfortable position on the couch. She would either wake up to highlights showing how her boyfriend notched the last goal, or to a shaking of her shoulder from said boyfriend. Tonight fell upon this similar pattern.

As if taking a cat nap, Anastasia only broke free from the light trance of slumber when the surname Tarasenko was boasted by the men on TV. She'd exert all of her strength to witness what exactly was being shown on the bright screen. Then once a different hockey player was being focused on, the durability to keep her eyelids up immediately went away. The only other instance which kept her from falling into the dream stage, were the gentle pushes of hairs out of her face by a cool, blistered hand.

"Want to come to bed?"

The question rang in her head before being muffled out and forgotten by the sleepy haze. Instead, all attention that could be held, concentrated on the darkened silhouette and what little details stood out from the glow of the television. A beanie hat, shiny nose, pale blue eyes now electric in the altering shade of night. Anastasia continued to leer on without expression, until the query was repeated. Although this time, the Russian accent tingled her ears and soothed down her phase of vigilance. Next she knew, the somewhat crisp vision had blurred out with the closing of her eyes to doze off.

Nerves were able to pick up a pressure applied to the back of Anastasia and underneath her knees, and soon enough, the air replaced what blankets and cushions once encompassed her. On instinct, his broad and muscular chest was snuggled into by the limp young lady. Then surrounded by the white noise in their bedroom, the couple pursued to his or her own needs. Anastasia dug a ways under the sheets and curled into a ball on the mattress. Meanwhile, her boyfriend unpacked the sports bags left on the ground, avoided talking to his grandfather about the game, changed only into pajama bottoms, and slid into bed.

Then just as he was about to shut down, a groggy voice spoke up.

"I love you, Vladi."



Next morning, as the temperature was dropping, Anastasia awoke to an empty space beside her. This had grown customary, and it was expected once the soft snores she heard throughout the night no longer sounded. Instead of moping about how Vladimir rarely stayed to cuddle during the fresh moments of a day, time was taken to rid of her morning breath and make herself presentable. After all, it was a peeve taken into consideration to see the flawless appearance of her boyfriend when waking up. She always needed to scratch off either the crumbs bordering her eyes or the dried drool trailing down her chin. Therefore, a stretch was unfurled before the young woman moseyed to the bathroom.

Doing what she considered to be her daily routine, Anastasia picked up on the animated noises coming in from down the hall. Although faint by distance, it was easy to make out the announcers on the NHL channel going over last night's games. It was a temptation to wait and eavesdrop on the Blues' score, despite finishing in the rest room. Preparation was key in order not to further upset the hockey player on the couch in case his team lost. Due to napping, Anastasia didn't know whether to skip to him with congratulations or to be more mellow about his accomplishments. Either way, the constant goal was to amplify the positive emotions he had, if any.

However, changing her preference, she decided to face the circumstances with what little info already known. Taking in a large breath, she hesitantly made her way to the living room, but stopping to peek around the corner first. The sight made her heart swell: Vladimir looking half-asleep with his puppy lain across his lap.

"Good morning, guys," Anastasia murmured, a smile turning up.

As Vladimir took a second to reassure he heard something, the dog at once hopped away and scuttled to its female owner instead.

"Morning," he finally replied, before coughing away the leftover sleep in his voice. "Sleep well?"

"Of course! You kept my feet warm, so there were no problems."

A giggle made Vladimir turn around on the couch to playfully glare at her. Meanwhile, she continued to pet the dog with a grin on face.

"Felt like ice on my legs, so thanks," his body turned back to the television. A second later, though, that view was blocked by Anastasia climbing to straddle him.

"But you are used to that being a hockey player, and everyone tripping you," she teased once more. "I see it a lot."

Vladimir mirrored the expression on her face, "Not last night."

Immediately, she became ashamed of falling asleep during the third period. The fluster was evident although it was trying to be hidden by another laugh. Perhaps this signified some terrible event that took place; a trip that led to a giveaway on his part, a last-minute injury because of tripping, maybe a penalty.

"I could have if you didn't keep me up two nights ago." She still attempted to fight on.

"Don't give in, then, " his lips curled up more. "Push me away."

In this moment, Anastasia was gripped harder by the waist as an allurement to go against what he just recommended. Pushing was useless due to a contrast in muscular physique, him being the stronger of the two. Therefore, all the young lady could do was cover the flush on her cheeks and squeeze out words to hopefully cast him away.

"Resist."

The penetrating, deep voice made his girlfriend try to thrash over on the other side of the couch to maintain her sanity and hormones. She found it absolutely embarrassing when Vladimir rattled her up, finding that her own flirting could only go so far. It would be miraculous if his tendencies could be adapted, but she never even figured that her present condition was enough to him.

"Cut it out, Vladi!"

His hold loosened at that demand but the intent did not. "Why?"

"You know why, so wipe that grin off!" she whined. "Besides... I wanna know about what happened at the end of the game."

The vibrant blue irises dimmed at the topic being focused on again, and reflected the shame that consumed Vladimir, as well.

"I jumped to save the puck from leaving the zone but did not get it on time. So, the other team broke away and scored... We were on a power play, too, and could have won."

No longer did any happiness radiate that Anastasia could pick up. There was a decline in his cheerful mood that usually clung to him like a pleasant aroma. However, it was not that he was melodramatic about a one-time mistake. This was turning into a 'curse', so to speak, and happened almost every game. Commentators were beginning to notice and bring it up for all fans to hear at home.

"The Blues can't always win, Tara," Anastasia bit her lip.

As she spoke, his arms dropped from her sides and crossed themselves and hung low was his head.

"Yeah, but we lose on me," he mumbled, "and I'm not scoring goals like the beginning of the season."

Statistics proved the second half of his statement was true, but in Anastasia's opinion, it shouldn't have bothered him. This was the only season so far where he has been a top-ten point leader, and it was due to his tremendous amount of goals. The accomplishment was to be praised, she figured, as her hand cupped the side of Vladimir's face. With these thoughts spoken aloud, his posture straightened slightly.

"As long as I make plays and get assists it should be good, I guess..." he tested out the words before looking up for approval. Anastasia was eager to motivate him and instantly brought him out of the muck. She felt it was her duty being a girlfriend to brighten, support, and love.

"Now, let's go back to my topic," his grin returned. The young lady was close to her escape before being held in place all over again. "Why can't you resist me?"

Letting out a sigh, she answered, "Because you overwhelm me."

"How so?" his eyebrows raised.

"The list is long, Vladi," Anastasia was not in the mood to blabber, but if that's what he so desired, then she would grant it.

"It will make me happy from the Blues' loss." The cheeky smile did all the persuading, and so compliments were ranted on.

"Well, I love your eyes— they remind me of a husky's and a snake's. Your eyebrows are nicely shaped and make me want to shade them in all the way. Your lips are plump, which is kind of unusual for a guy, and that makes me like them. Not to mention they remind me of a snake, as well... Um, let's see... Your hair is feathery and gorgeous. Everything about your stature amazes me, like those muscles and beauty marks. Oh, and your accent makes my insides clench together."

Anastasia took a deep breath and let it out, preparing for his characteristics to cherish next. Meanwhile, Vladimir had his head tilted back in laughter.

"You asked for it!" she pressured.

He smothered the loudest of chuckles, and replied, "I'm enjoying it! Go on!"

"Okay," another large breath was conjured and exhausted. "Well, I obviously value your ambition, passion, talent; and your goofy disposition makes my heart swell. Then there's your intelligence, nurture for family and friends, pride... Um... You are eager and attentive in conversation, which is something I appreciate. Also, there's a unique and eccentric vibe to you... Gosh, Vladi, I don't think I can go on. If you gave me time to write it all down—"

"—That's fine, believe me!" he was still laughing. "I get it."

"You're too beautiful in-and-out." Anastasia smiled.

Vladimir moved his hands to her face and gave a quick peck on the lips. Then planting a kiss to her neck, did he speak up once more.

"I think you're more beautiful, but just in case you don't think so, I can help with that..."

"What now, Tara?" Anastasia asked, also wondering how his cheeks could still stretch after smiling nearly all the time; She'd be in pain.

"Well," he began slowly, "I could give you a beauty mark on your shoulder."

"But I already have one on each."

He rolled his eyes, "I meant from me. You know..." Voice trailing off, he bopped his eyebrows for clarification.

Anastasia then understood the dirty inference, and giggled at her own naivety.

"It would make me happy."