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"You could move worlds, if you wished."
Sofia stares up at Katya Goncharova, who won't even stop staring out at the water long enough to acknowledge her words. She grips the steel handrail of the bridge, and though it's midwinter, her hands are bare so that Sofia can see her knuckles whiten with the force of it. There's a thin tan line where her wedding ring once sat, though now it's tucked safely in a pocket.
Just because she's having an affair doesn't mean she needs to throw away a perfectly good ring, after all.
Sofia's words are still true, even though Katya and her husband may be on the outs. She's the one who holds all the power here, she's the one to whom the mob is loyal to, with just a few well-placed words she could conquer every crime ring in the city, maybe the country.
"Perhaps, though I don't see why I would. I haven't the need."
Katya responds softly, though not timidly, while hardly moving her mouth. Her gaze is still firmly on the water ahead of her, tracking the gentle rolls of miniature waves forming and falling over the course of moments- occasionally, Sofia catches a glimpse of what may be a shadow beneath the surface, but it always disappears too quickly for her to tell.
She bores of the water and turns back to Katya, wishing for all the world that she had a camera with which to preserve this moment forever. Then again, a photograph could never truly encapsulate Katya, her pale blue eyes and her wispy hair that's turning white at the temples, though she hasn't yet hit thirty. It could never truly show her cold beauty, her icy demeanor that once made Sofia tremble in her beaten shoes.
They're long past that point, though, and Sofia only wants to bring her lips to Katya's face, maybe get stuck like a tongue to a lamppost, trapped to live the rest of her life in a constant, neverending kiss- she would sell her soul to the devil himself if only for half a chance at that.
"Don't you? Andrey- "
"Andrey is in Paris on his own business. In case you haven't noticed, this is Naples. I oughtn't worry about things from the distant future when they pose no threat to the present."
Sofia gently presses her shoulder to Katya's, risking as much intimacy as she can in public, though nobody is around to see anything untoward.
"What about the present, then, Yekaterina Goncharova?" Katya scoffs at her full name, then turns slightly toward Sofia, allowing her to see the edge of the scar that mars Katya's right cheek.
"For the present, I find I am quite content with the world as it is. Don't you agree?"
"... Not much, I'm afraid. Your husband could be different, for one."
A small smirk plays at the edges of Katya's lips. "You wish that it were you instead of him, no?"
Sofia's cheeks burn at how accurately Katya is in this, and how open she is with her teasing. At any moment, somebody could arrive and be in earshot, then where would they be? She can hardly see though the dense fog, so whether they could see her in return is a small chance, but she still worries, just a bit.
"I wish there were a world where that could be the case, but if we lived in that world..."
"We would likely never have met."
Sofia sighs, and watches her misty breath curl away in the wind. "I never deserved to meet you in the first place."
Katya shoots her a sly glance, and replies easily, "I quite think that you did. The bodies left in your wake would agree- it was only your silver tongue that allowed you to live past our initial meeting."
"And what of now? Is it still my silver tongue that keeps me alive?"
"Perhaps." The teasing smirk is out in full force on Katya's face, and her pleasant and musical tone tilts toward mischief.
"I think I've charmed you at least a little outside of it. Come on, don't you like my pretty face?"
"It isn't the worst face I've seen in my life, I'll give it that."
Sofia gasps in mock offense, and presses her forehead against Katya's shoulder. "You take that back."
"Fine. It is the worst face I've ever seen."
Sofia groans in misery, while Katya laughs her airy laugh and kisses the crown of her head. Sofia jumps back and panics, looking around for anyone who could have seen-
"Don't worry, beloved. No one will find us here."
Sofia still stares around, waiting for some stranger to come walking out of the fog to accuse them of being criminals, homosexuals- but nobody comes. The fog has grown so dense in such a short time, so much so that Sofia can hardly see the water below them.
"How sure are you of that?"
"Very. Would I lie to you?"
Sofia thinks of the many times that Katya has lied and deceived her way through things, lied even to her- especially to her. This, though, she would not; she would not lead Sofia to endanger herself for no good reason, of that she is sure.
"... No."
"Precisely. We are alone in the world, right at this very moment- why shouldn't we take advantage?"
Katya's fully facing Sofia now, so that the long scar that cuts through her cheek is fully visible. Though she claims that it was a stray bullet, Sofia has never believed her, but it is still beautiful nonetheless. Goncharov claims that she is lucky that he keeps her around, with a face like that- Sofia thinks that he is the lucky one, married to Katya, of everyone in this world.
Katya leans in gently, Sofia would say it's almost hesitant if it were anybody else, and meets her in the middle for a soft, gentle kiss. Katya's lips are as cold as they always are, never as warm as her own, always at least a little cooler than her own body temperature.
They remain like this for some time, with Katya's icy hands roving over Sofia's face, almost as though she were trying to memorize it from feeling alone.
Katya pulls away what feels like hours later, though still far too soon. She stares down at Sofia with those icy eyes of hers, making her feel so utterly alone- she is the one person that Katya pays attention to, nobody else matters, nobody else is even here- and Sofia doesn't even check to make sure that that last thought remains true, so enveloped she is in this momentary fantasy.
"I will miss you, Sofia."
Her heart feels like it drops to her stomach when she hears those words, and all at once she feels like begging on her knees for an explanation, a change of heart, something that tells her that this is not the betrayal that she thinks it is, the betrayal that she once anticipated and dismissed.
"When will you miss me? I'm not planning on going anywhere. Not without you."
"I know. I will soon be going somewhere that you can't follow- rather, we've already gone somewhere that you can't come back from."
"I- We haven't moved, Katya. We've been to this bridge countless times- "
"Yet it has never been like this. I am sorry, Sofia, truly I am- but Goncharov's death requires my strength. I am aching with hunger, all while I need to cast away my final connection to the world. You will be what allows me to cast him off, to achieve that finality that I know he craves."
"Katya, don't- please, you don't have to- "
"I do. I hope that your death is as painless as possible, beloved. May we meet again in the next life."
Katya presses her lips firmly to Sofia's forehead, and she allows it for only a moment before she shoves her away. Katya does not resist, in fact she's pushed away so quickly that it's almost as though Sofia's hands go through her, with how little resistance there is. Katya stumbles back, and sheds a single tear before the fog thickens so much that she disappears.
Sofia steps forward to where Katya should be, but there is nothing but empty air. There is nothing but fog all around her, nothing and nobody here on this bridge that should be bustling with activity- where is everybody? Is this what Katya had meant?
The creeping cold mixes with the heartbreak of Katya's betrayal, her admitting that she plans on killing Sofia, even after everything- she wants so desperately to be wrong, but everything aches with the trembling pain, the fear that Katya will never love her again, if she ever did to begin with. The fear that she will die here, cold and alone.
