Note: Here's the ending my dear Valentines! Just in time, it's 10 for midnight here in France! I couldn't login again and kept on trying while watching TV XD (Million Dollars Baby BTW, probably the 12th time I see it but it's an amazing movie). And this time no Russian poetry as a prologue to the chapter, but the beautiful song from which the title of the fic comes from.

I love you all for following me, for long, for short, it doesn't matter, as long as you're here! If it was only for writing, I wouldn't be posting on FF actually, because I don't need that to write. But the sharing, your kind private messages, the wonderful people I have met and the friends I made, this is why I post here. It's amazing to be able to make you feel things through my writing, I know that you cried with me sometimes, laughed with me too, and I love being here because of how great you are. Я люблю тебя

You came out of the night
Wearing a mask in white colour
My eyes were shining on the wine
And your aura
All in order, we move into the boudoir
But too soon, the morning has resumed

I'm hanging on the Old Goose Moon
You look like an angel
Sleeping it off at a station
Were you only passing through?
I'm dying for you just to touch me
And feel all the energy rushing right up-a-me
L'amour looks something like you

The thoughts of you sends me shivery
I'm dressed in lace sailing down a black reverie
My heart is thrown to the pebbles
And the boatmen
All the time I find I'm living in that evening
With that feeling of sticky love inside

L'amour looks something like you
Kate Bush

Mail exited the subway station, looking around to find his way. This snow would never end it seemed, making everything white and alike. It took him half an hour of turning around and going back on his tracks to finally find Mihael's place.

He hadn't held him back when he had left the evening before, he was gone too fast, and Mail didn't even know why he had left so quickly. Mail's night had been a long insomnia, then nightmares, when he could finally sleep.
His calls hadn't been picked up. His text messages never replied to. What was wrong? Mail was a bit scared that something happened to Mihael on his way back.

He pushed the call button. This was intimidating, this big mansion, the huge carriage door, the high façade... and it seemed like hours before anyone replied.
How should he introduce himself?
When the voice in the interphone resounded, he all but stuttered about being a friend of Mihael, and gave his name.
Mail clearly heard the click of the interphone being cut, and then nothing.

At some point, Mail really wondered if someone would open, or if he would be shot or something. All he knew was that maybe he had had a chance to get rid of Mihael for good, and he was there wanting to talk to him. Who was fucked up now?

The huge door finally opened in a creaking sound, making Mail start. His feet were getting numb because of the cold and he was trying not to think of it, watching the seconds tick the few minutes past 1pm.
He had never seen the man who was standing in the doorway, motioning him to enter. It wasn't one of Mihael's men.

Mail was led into the mansion, but before he could go further than the hall, another man frisked him completely. That was a bit weird to the redhead, but he complied. He didn't have much choice anyway.
He followed the first one up the stairs to Mihael's room. The mansion was so huge, why did Mihael live in that room only? There was even a bed in it, when there was probably a lot of free bedrooms everywhere.

"Wait here." The man ordered with a Russian accent even thicker than Mihael's.
Mail stood planted in the corridor, mere inches from the door to Mihael's room, trying not to move too much.

Damn, if only there was a chair, at least... Mail was tired of waiting. Was Mihael here or not? They wouldn't let him wait for nothing, right? It had been almost half an hour since he had been asked to wait in that corridor, and there wasn't anyone in sight whom he could ask what was going on.

Suddenly, voices rose from the end of the corridor opposite to where Mail had come from. More precisely one was more than obviously yelling at another, the tone of the second clearly apologetic. The sound was coming his way, and he felt trapped like an animal. Should he run downstairs?
But one of the voices was now identified, as it came nearer: Mihael. He was speaking, or better said, shouting in Russian, and damn, he sounded pretty angry.

Then, the sound of steps approaching, the blond appeared, and Mail realised that he looked as angry as he sounded. And it was terrible. Mail could feel himself shake slightly.
His face immediately softened at Mail's sight, and he dismissed the man, one of his usual underlings, with an impatient sign of the hand.
He opened the door to his room, waited for Mail to enter, and closed it behind them. He gave a few orders in the internal phone on the desk and focused back on Mail.

Mail was very, very uneasy. Mihael was dressed in a similar style as the first time they had met and it was even more intimidating. Sexy as hell but intimidating.

The silence itself was intimidating. And it dawned on Mail that the situation had inverted. He was the one searching after Mihael, worrying and now being scared. Funny... well, not so much but weird at least.

Mihael was observing Mail. He suddenly went to one of the backdoors. "I'll be right back."
Two minutes later, he was back, wearing simple dark blue jeans and a black tee shirt.

"You see through me, it's really scary." Mail chuckled, relieved to have a way less frightening Mihael in front of him.
The blond smiled, and waited for the man that was bringing a tray to exit to reply.
"I need to see through people to do what I do."
"I guess so. No wonder why you're the boss." Mail couldn't help it, being in the presence of a Mafia boss was not something he really wanted, but he had to admire the person and the skills, at least.

"Well, then, maybe you can tell me what I'm doing here, I don't even know myself..." Mail smirked.
"You suddenly discovered that you're madly in love with me?" Mihael's smile was playful.
"Let's say that I was a bit worried, you left so fast yesterday, I don't even know why, and you didn't pick up my calls..."
"That's a beginning." Mihael's smile widened.

Mail wasn't so worried that Mihael got his hopes up, this time.

"Tea?"
"That's the typical Russian tea?" Mail asked, seeing the samovar.
"Yes. Straight from Moscow."
"Just like you."

Mihael laughed. "I'm sorry for the wait, and for not picking up your calls. I had a very important meeting early this morning and it lasted for hours, I thought we would never get to an agreement."

"And to think I was imagining that you were dying on the pavement somewhere under the snow..." Mail chuckled.
"So you worried for me... I think it can make my day."
"Why were you so angry a little earlier?"
"I asked them to let you wait here, inside, and not in the corridor. The persons I was having a meeting with could have seen you, and it wasn't safe."
"Oh, ok... You really scared me you know... actually, I think I like the shy version of you better, even if you're not really talkative." Mail grinned, making Mihael laugh again.
"I'm sorry, I don't think I'll be shy anymore."
"Oh? Why? The shy button doesn't work anymore? Did I break something?" the redhead joked. Maybe he would get to know Mihael better now?
"Yeah... my heart."

Mail gulped. He didn't expect that.
"Explain." was all he could reply. He didn't get why being shy and a broken heart were related but since Mihael never reacted like anyone else...
"I was so afraid not to make mistakes that I was cautious... what you took for shyness. I was so cautious about you, trying not to do you wrong, that I forgot that I could get hurt too. But I had never experienced a broken heart... I didn't know how to solve that problem, I admit it, it was stupid to come to you... but I had no one to help me except you... It's not help I could ask from my men." Mihael chuckled sadly.
"I'm sorry... I hadn't realised." Mail felt his heart tighten, "I'm supposed to understand those feelings better, you're supposed to be the one who's clueless. But in the end, you read me like an open book when I can't guess a single thought of yours. You're totally true, straightforward, and still I don't get you, and no matter what lies I tell you, you know where the truth is."

Mail seemed to think for a while.
"You know, I see you like you're apart, watching us supposed normal people evolve, and you see how we lie to each other, how we try to impress, how fake we are. And, at least for myself, I was so caught in trying to understand you with the prejudices I had, that it was impossible to see you, really see you I mean..." Mail drank a few gulps of his tea, obviously trying to find his words, "I've seen a picture once, it was a huge panel of letters that said 'replace fear of the unknown with curiosity'and it's funny how we always think we understand that kind of statements, but really, we don't until we have to face a related situation. Trying to know you with the barriers of my fears led me nowhere, so I think I'm gonna stop doing what I always do, and start to act like you. Instead of trying to guess, taking steps one by one carefully, I'll just ask you things directly. It's even more stupid from me that I didn't realise that earlier, since you never lie, and will always reply honestly, no matter how hard the truth is."

Mihael seemed to relax a bit. He drank some tea too, not really knowing if this was going to be good or not. Well, as long as Mail didn't ask about Mafia stuff, it should be ok.

"Why did you run away yesterday? Is it something I said?" Mail began.
Mihael looked very uneasy, but since he was cornered, he had to reply. "It's... I was afraid of myself. I told you before, I don't know how to deal with those feelings, and I was hurting so much that I was afraid to make a bigger mistake. I... know I'm not really nice to look at, with that scar and all, but I wanted to convince you, because I know you're the one for me, but I also know that sometimes, people fail to find each other, even when they're destined..."

Mihael stood up and went to the window. His voice had trembled on the last words and he didn't want to start crying again.

"You were afraid to rape me or something?" No doubt that Mihael was strong enough to do that, Mail thought.
"NO! Of course not... I... thought that if I could kiss you, just once, you'd understand... I'm sorry it's stupid... I probably live in a fairy tale." Mihael laughed bitterly.

Mail stood up from the couch. He didn't move, trying to understand why it had taken so long. Layers of prejudices and misunderstandings had covered the one thing that had forbidden him to run away completely. Misconceptions over wrong ideas other distorted impressions, with a pinch, a big one, of fear, had totally annihilated the one thing he should have followed from the beginning: instinct.

And instinct was telling him one thing now: Mihael was the one.

He walked to him, turned him around so the blond would face him, and grabbed his face between his palms. Mihael looked at him, surprised.
"Then it wouldn't be a fairy tale if it didn't end well, would it?"
Softly, Mail kissed Mihael. His instinct was screaming now, screaming to scare his thinking process away. No more thinking, no more analysing. Just reality. Because if someone had been in denial of reality, it was him, not Mihael.

"And, one more thing Mihael, you're beautiful. Stunningly beautiful..." Mail brushed his lips against Mihael's scarred skin, depositing soft pecks on the irregular area, "I didn't need one kiss to be convinced that you're the one who's made for me, but try anyway." he smirked.

Mihael chuckled and grabbed Mail roughly, deepening the kiss, making the redhead's knees buckle under him. He broke the kiss, a playful look in his eyes. "So, now we need to get married and have a lot of children?"
Mail held Mihael tighter, feeling his warm body spread heat in him. "Can we try the children part first?"

Note: yep, no lemon. I just felt like it didn't fit in the fairy tale.