Burnt Spaghetti

Demyan

I unlocked the door of my apartment with a tired sigh. Practice had really taken a toll on me but I was grateful it was my last day. As I stepped into my apartment, took off my coat and hung it up, the loud clank of a pot came from the kitchen followed by a string of curses.

A smile spread across my face as I walked to the kitchen to find Malia frustratedly pouting at a pan that was filled with what looked like burnt stirfry. Well what I hoped it was since it was burnt beyond recognition .

"And what have you been up to?" I laughed as I swept her tiny frame in my arms and spun her around.

She let out a loud giggle before she gave me a kiss, "I was trying to be romantic and make dinner for us."

Even though it sounded like an incredibly sweet gesture, Malia could not cook to save the life of her. She had the spirit to try but when it came to execution it was terrible. "What is this?" I indicated to the pot.

Her caramel skin became redder. "It was spaghetti."

So I was completely wrong.

"Don't laugh," she playfully hit my chest with an embarrassed smile, "Demy, you're being a jerk."

"I just don't understand how someone could burn something so badly," I shook my head as laughter continued to bubble from me, "I'm sorry"

She rolled her eyes . "You're very lucky you are cute."

Once I had calmed down, I kneeded down in front of her and very gently kissed her stomach over her thin white cotton vest. She tried her hardest to be grumpy but I knew it always got her. "Hi my little girl, your mummy almost brunt the house down."

"Well I was trying to spoil your daddy," she scoffed as she gently ran her fingers through my platinum blonde hair.

I looked up to her with a smile,"How about you go relax and I'll quickly change then make dinner?"

"I didn't want you to work," she frowned. 

"Then why don't we just order takeout then?"

She nodded with a smile, "Can I order anything?"

"Anything your heart desires," I winked and kissed the side of her head, afterwards I handed her my phone then went to our bedroom.

An hour later we were cuddled in the cinema room enjoying a very carb filled dinner since it was what Malia was craving.

"So when are you leaving for london?" She looked up to the screen before she chomped on her pizza.

"You're very well aware when I'm leaving for london," I smiled down to her.

"I'm just choosing to ignore it," she gave me an innocent smile.

"I know it's soon but it's for the best. The sooner I get there, the sooner I can get things sorted at the Royal Opera House and get us an apartment or house. Then I can come back if there's still time, so the move will be easier for you."

"I still have two months of my contract," she sighed, "It's going to take awhile . "

"Then let me buy you out, even Pa offered to buy you out."

She shook her head, "Vasili did a lot for me already by getting me a job at the Royal Opera House. It will be too much and it's only two months, it will fly by."

"Did you tell them about the baby?" I looked down to her still very flat stomach. It had only been two weeks since we found out she was pregnant.

She shook her head, "I would like to keep it private for now."

"Malia."

"Demyan," she gave me a small glare which just made her look more like a kitten.

"You won't be able to handle it once we get to the three month point."

She nodded, "Therefore I still have fourteen weeks. Demyan as soon as everyone finds out I'm pregnant I might as well kiss my ballet career goodbye."

"That's an old fashioned stereotype," I shook my head.

"That's what men think. You'll see. For now I would like to enjoy the last few weeks of my career before it is shattered."

I let out a soul escaping sigh before I nodded. If we started on the topic we would go back and forth about it until the baby was born. Once Malia had set her mind there was nothing you could do about it. "At least promise me you'll be careful."

"I will," she smiled, "You stress too much."

"You give me too much stress."

Her laughter filled the room, "I'm going to miss you so much."

I wrapped my arms around her, "I'll visit whenever you're free or you can fly out home. My parents will be more than happy."

 A day later I was in my jet on my way to London. The flight from Moscow to London luckily did not take long as in thirty minutes I had landed in Dad's private airport.

As the jet rounded the warehouse I already spotted the bright neon green Lamborghini Hurricane of Edward Junior. My little brother who was the photocopy of Pa, had cut his long platinum blonde hair so that it tickled the nape of his neck. It used to get caught up when he played rugby so he decided to chop it off.

His blue eyes shown brightly as he looked up to the jet with a smile, As usual he wore a navy blue tracksuit with sneakers. No matter the weather that was his to go to outfit.

"Pa is going to proper kill you for smoking a cig mate," I laughed as I climbed down the stairs of my jet.

"He won't kill me if he doesn't know, wanker," he winked as he threw the cig on the floor, stomped it then ran over to me to give me a hug, "Russia has made you pale."

"You're one to speak, you have the complexion of paper," I laughed loudly.

He shoved my head back, "That's an insult to Pa since I look exactly like him."

"Oh Dad might kill me," I snickered.

"Because Pa is the most beautiful person in this world."

"His air," I started.

"His soul," EJ continued.

"His very life," I finished before we both burst out laughing.

"Where I am I supposed to put my bags?"

"I organized the guards to bring them home don't you stress your mind," he winked.

His large muscular body barely fit in the Lamborghini and I knew I would be having knee pains later. Once we stuffed ourselves in like sardines, we were on our way.