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Anna had always thought it was somewhat silly, how she always looked for Sasha, even when it didn’t involve skating. Silly, how she would lay in the same bed as Sasha, pretending to sleep and then open her eyes for the rest of the night just because she likes to see the peace in her teammates face. She had always found it weird, how whenever she’d look at her greatest friend, the hardest part would be looking away. Whenever she’d look away, it always felt forced, like something was physically ripping her away so she’d stop staring.
She had always found it weird, but never in a bad way. She always thought of it as her body and mind accepting that Sasha truly was her greatest friend. Sometimes people would point out how close they were, and often times that made her pull away from Sasha, without knowing why. She was always close with her anyway, so why would she feel the need to pull away once others started commenting on it?
She always asked herself why, but part of her knew the answer. The answer of why it made her stomach twist in knots whenever someone would even just lightly joke about her relationship with Sasha, because she knew that no joke about couples like “that” were ever just jokes in Russia. People would act like it was funny, but she knew deep down what everybody thought, because she thought the same.
Anna was skating, deep in thought, until she felt that familiar sound— sweeter than honey but somehow still more intense than fire. That beautiful, beautiful voice that her ears could never get enough of—
Sasha.
“Anyenka.” Sasha said playfully behind her, catching up to skate next to her. The rink was empty and they arrived before their coaches and fellow trainees did, so it was just the two of them.
And thats probably what made the nickname so easy.
Anyenka. God, how dangerous it felt to hear.
But Anna couldn’t ever say she didnt crave it.
“Sashenka.” Anna replied back, giggling to herself once Sasha finally skated next to her and intertwined their arms. It was quiet, times like this, where they’d just skate together alone. Conversation didn’t really happen that much, just skating around and giving advice on each other’s programs.
Sasha sat on the ice, looking at Anna do her program. It was, of course, harder than what most figure skaters their age did, but that didn’t stop them. Though sometimes, Sasha wishes that it did. Because before she could comment on anything, give tips and advice, Anna would already be cursing herself under her breath for tripping, then getting back and trying ten times harder.
It was admirable, really, but Anna was already pushing herself to her limit before Eteri even arrived. And both of them knew that wasn’t good.
Sasha sighed and got up, skating towards Anna.
Anna was about to spin when Sasha touched her shoulder.
“Anyenka.”
Anna was startled, maybe even jumped a little, forgetting that she wasn’t alone in the rink. “Huh?”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. You’re doing well.” The words came out of Sasha’s mouth, smooth and gentle. So gentle that it felt like it was true. That Anna felt like she was doing well, well enough to stop being hard on herself. It made her heart feel at ease, and she could feel relief spread across her body, muscles relaxing as she took deep breaths.
“Really? You’re not just saying that?”
“I promise.”
And that’s all Anna needed to believe her. Two words.
But then the doors opened, and Eteri was the first one they saw.
Before skating away to greet their coach, Sasha whispered into her ear.
“You got this.”
And then she was off to Eteri. Anna followed shortly after, and their official practice began once the other girls showed up.
Practice was nothing out of the ordinary. Mistakes, punishments, praises, everything all in one, like always.
On miracle days such as this, they’d get a break for doing well. And right now, all of the girls were changing into comfortable clothes in the locker room, taking off their skates and just breathing. Of course, like clock work, Anna and Sasha were together on the bench while taking off their skates.
Then the comments started again. It was never to their face, but it was never whispered.
“They’re basically together.” One of the girls said.
“That’s disgusting.” Another girl replied, giggling as the two of them laughed at what they thought the two girls had.
Anna felt her heart stop.
Her fingers stiffened around the laces of her skates.
For a second, she forgot how to breathe.
But she kept untying them anyway, sitting beside Sasha like nothing had happened, even when her body instinctively shifted— just a little— away from Sasha.
Just enough to make it clear.
Just enough to make it clear that they weren’t—
Whatever other people thought they were.
Sasha didn’t say anything.
She didn’t even look up.
She kept untying her laces slowly, carefully, like she hadn’t heard a single word.
But if you looked closely, you could see it.
Something had changed.
Not in what she was doing.
Just in the quiet around them.
The air felt tighter somehow.
And suddenly, Anna was very aware of the space between their shoulders.
Once the two girls who were talking about them left the locker room to continue their break, Kamila went up to Anna and Sasha.
It was quick. No more than a few seconds.
Kamila patted both of their backs and gave them water. “People make things up. Don’t mind them.”
Kamila handed over their water bottles, giving them a sweet reassuring smile before walking out the locker room to catch up with the other girls.
The two, however, stayed silent.
Anna stared at the floor, twisting the cap of her water bottle over and over again without actually drinking it. Sasha was quiet beside her, not even looking at Anna, still pretending to untie her shoes.
But Anna noticed how her brows furrowed and how her mouth pressed into a thin line.
Sasha sighed and stood up first, making Anna’s head shoot up at her.
“Sasha?”
Sasha didn’t answer.
For a moment she just stood there, her back half-turned, like she wasn’t sure if she should stay or leave.
“Sasha,” Anna said again, softer this time.
Sasha finally looked at her.
“Sasha,” was the only thing Alexandra said back.
Not correcting her.
Just repeating it.
Anna knew what that meant.
—
Their break ended and practice continued, with both Anna and Sasha not even looking at each other. Sasha spent most of her time with Kamila, and Anna stayed with Aliona.
Once practice ended, they all returned to the hotel. They had a competition coming up, so instead of going home, they were staying there again.
As usual.
The girls couldn’t really remember the last time they had slept in their own beds with their own families because how busy practice and competition had been.
Tonight they were sharing rooms. Two girls, one room. Two beds.
Sasha and Anna were in different rooms.
Anna switched.
She didn’t ask their coach.
She didn’t ask Sasha.
She only told her roommate.
And Sasha’s.
That was all.
Anna picked up her stuffed bear and walked down the hallway to Sasha’s room.
The hallway was quiet.
She stopped in front of the door.
For a moment, she just stood there, wondering if she should just turn back.
But then she knocked.
And no one responded.
She sighed and knocked one more time.
“Sasha? It’s me. Open up.”
No reply.
Another sigh.
Anna gulped, breathing deeply before knocking again, as if the words that were about to leave her mouth were something forbidden.
She knocked once more, pausing a bit before she spoke.
A beat— and then—
“….Sashenka?”
She swallowed hard after saying it. It wasn’t that it felt wrong. It wasn’t that she couldn’t bear to have her mouth say something so endearing towards someone she wasn’t supposed to. It was because she was saying this, knowing that was the only way Sasha would come out. And she didn’t know what that meant.
An inhale.
An exhale.
And then she could hear footsteps walk up to her from the other side of the door, stopping in front of it for just a second until it was opened.
Sasha stood before her, quiet and tired.
Anna’s heart just melted right then and there. There was nothing special with how Sasha looked. She didn’t have make up on, she didn’t have her hair up, but Anna still felt her heart flutter with something she wouldn’t dare say out loud.
A smile formed on her face without warning, and she was sure that made Sasha’s stone heart falter just a little bit. Sasha’s lips twitched, eventually turning into a smile.
She sighed, pulled Anna in for a hug, and helped her settle in the room.
And just like that, both of them were sleeping soundly. Or at least they thought they were.
Anna wasn’t sleeping. She couldn’t.
She just started remembering everything. There wasn’t an emotional trigger or anything, she just… started to think, and Sasha was the first thing that popped up.
2016.
Both of them joined Eteri’s Tutberidze's group at the Khrustalny (Crystal) rink in Moscow.
Anna noticed Sasha before Sasha noticed her.
Not for any important reason.
Just that Sasha fell harder than anyone else and stood up faster than anyone else too.
Their first real conversation was something simple.
Anna was skating, practicing her jumps, when Sasha suddenly poked her shoulder.
“You flip the jump too early.” was what Sasha said, and ever since then, they just happened.
2017.
They started sitting next to each other on the bus.
No one decided it. It just happened.
One morning Sasha forgot her gloves again.
Anna handed hers over automatically.
“You’ll freeze,” Sasha said to her.
“I fall less than you.”
Sasha laughed and pulled them on.
Anna kept her hands tucked into her sleeves the whole ride.
That winter, Sasha started calling her Anya sometimes.
Anna pretended not to notice how much she liked it.
2018.
Anna realized she knew Sasha’s habits better than her own.
Which step Sasha used before a jump.
How she rubbed her hands together when she was nervous.
How quiet she got after a bad skate.
Once, on a long trip, Sasha fell asleep beside her.
Her head tilted against the window.
Anna leaned back and closed her eyes too.
But every few minutes she opened them again.
Just to check.
Sasha hadn’t moved.
Anna relaxed.
She didn’t understand why that mattered.
2019.
Anya was already what Sasha called her at this time. It was comfortable, safe, soft. Softer than how anybody else said it.
They were stretching after practice.
Kamila and Aliona were arguing about music across the room.
Daria was laughing.
Sasha sat beside Anna on the floor.
Close.
Too close.
“You rushed your landing again,” Sasha said.
Anna groaned.
“You always say that.”
“Because you always do it.”
Anna rolled her eyes.
“You sound like Eteri.”
Sasha smiled a little.
“Maybe you should listen to me then.”
Anna pushed her shoulder lightly.
Sasha didn’t move away.
Instead she leaned slightly closer.
“Careful, Anyenka.”
Anna stopped moving.
That nickname was new.
Softer.
Too soft.
“Don’t call me that,” Anna said quickly. It was meant as a joke. Or something.
Sasha paused for a second, then giggled a little, but it didn’t come out smoothly.
“Why not?”
Anna didn’t answer.
She just stood up and grabbed her bag.
Across the room Kamila looked between them for a moment.
But she didn’t say anything.
2020.
By then everyone had already noticed.
They didn’t say it directly.
But the comments started slipping out anyway.
“You two are always together.”
“Sasha, where’s Anya?”
“Anna, your shadow is missing.”
Anna laughed it off every time.
But each joke made something tighten in her chest.
One afternoon they were walking back from practice again.
Snow was falling lightly.
Sasha nudged her shoulder.
“You’re doing it again.”
“What?”
“Thinking too much.”
Anna sighed.
“You’re imagining things.”
Sasha looked at her.
Really looked at her.
“No, I’m not.”
They walked the rest of the way in silence.
Right before the dorm entrance Sasha spoke again.
Quietly.
“Anya.”
Anna stopped.
“Yes?”
Sasha hesitated.
Just for a second.
Then she shook her head.
“Nothing.”
She opened the door and walked inside.
Anna stayed outside for a moment longer.
Watching the snow fall.
Her chest hurt in the same quiet way it had years ago.
She still refused to name it.
And now, here they were, sleeping in the same room in different beds.
Anna stared at the ceiling for a long time before she turned her head.
Sasha was asleep. Or at least she looked like it.
Her breathing was slow. Even.
Anna had seen her like this before. A hundred times, maybe.
But still, she looked.
And kept looking.
Something about it made her chest feel tight.
She shifted on the mattress, and the sheets started rustling softly under her.
“Sasha?”
No answer.
Anna waited.
Nothing. Quiet. Silence.
“…Sasha.”
A pause.
Then Sasha sighed.
“I’m sleeping.”
Anna let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding.
“You’re not.”
Another pause.
Sasha rolled over, slowly this time, until she was facing Anna across the space between their beds.
“What is it, Anya?”
Anna didn’t answer.
She was still looking at her. Her eyes started to sting and she didn’t even know why.
Sasha noticed the silence.
“Anya?”
“Sasha.”
“Mm?”
Her voice almost failed her.
“Do you ever think about… what people say?”
The question stayed in the air like frost.
Sasha didn’t move.
After a long time, Sasha finally answered.
Sort of.
“They say a lot of things.”
Anna knew that was true. Girls who were too close. Girls who held hands too long. Girls who didn’t look at boys.
The coaches joked about it often, sharp and careless.
Anna pressed her hands together under the blanket.
“It’s wrong,” she said quietly.
Sasha didn’t argue.
“Yes.”
The word came easily.
Too easily.
Anna stared at the ceiling she couldn’t see.
“Then why—”
She stopped.
Sasha turned her head on the pillow.
Anna could feel it even without looking.
She could hear Sasha’s mattress shifting.
“I don’t know,” Sasha said.
Very softly.
Then after a moment,
“But I can’t help it.”
The words barely existed after she said them.
Anna felt something in her chest tighten and settle at the same time.
Neither of them moved.
Neither of them said anything else.
Seconds ticked by. Then minutes. Half an hour, maybe.
Anna was still staring at the ceiling.
She couldn’t see what Sasha was doing, but she was certain she was awake too.
The thought made her heart race a little. Not fast— nothing dramatic. Just enough that she could hear it in the quiet.
Or maybe the room was simply too silent, and her heart was the loudest thing in it.
Anna exhaled slowly and turned onto her side, facing the wall.
She closed her eyes.
.
.
.
“Anya?”
Her heart jumped at Sasha’s voice.
“Sash—”
“Anechka.”
Anna stilled.
A pause.
“Anechka… goodnight.”
Anna hesitated before replying.
“Goodnight… Sashulya.”
Anna would want to say that the room was quiet again after that.
But it wasn’t.
Her heart was pounding so hard it almost hurt.
Not the kind of pounding that came with relief. Not the kind that slowed down after a moment.
The kind that made her feel trapped inside her own chest.
Like there wasn’t enough room for it.
Her chest ached with something she now knew the name of.
A name she could never say out loud.
And it wasn’t only her heart.
Even with the space between their beds— even in the distance between them— she could hear Sasha shift in the dark. A quiet breath. Then another.
Sasha was awake.
Aware.
Anna swallowed.
For a moment she had the horrible thought that if she listened closely enough, she might hear Sasha’s heart too.
Beating.
Aching.
Almost like—
No.
She shut her eyes tighter, trying to stop the thought before it finished.
But it didn’t really go away.
Because it felt too much like their hearts were moving in the same rhythm.
And somehow that made everything worse.
Because it was wrong.
Everyone knew it was wrong.
And deep down, in the quietest place inside her chest where the truth lived whether she liked it or not, Anna knew it too.
She knew. She knew that in no world would something like this ever be right.
But still—
For some reason she couldn’t explain, it still felt like the only thing in her life that had ever made sense.
And that was the problem.
Because she knew it was wrong.
The thought made her chest tighten until it almost hurt to breathe.
Anna felt the sting in her eyes before the tears even came.
She squeezed them shut, pressing her face deeper into the pillow like it might stop it.
Like if she stayed still enough, quiet enough, the feeling might pass.
But it didn’t.
It only made her chest ache more. Hurt more.
It hurt so much that she kept trying to press herself deeper into her pillow to the point where her knuckles were going white from how hard she was gripping it. She was trying to push herself further into the pillow to not make any sound, because she could already feel her tears coming out.
And then—
“Anechka.”
Anna inhaled sharply.
God.
God.
Anna shut her eyes tighter.
For a moment, she wished Sasha hadn’t said anything at all.
Because if Sasha spoke, Anna might start believing things she shouldn’t.
“It doesn’t—”
A pause.
The quiet stretched thin between them.
“It doesn’t have to be wrong.”
And that was what did it.
Anna’s tears spilled out, soaking into the pillow beneath her face.
Because Anna knew—
She knew Sasha meant it.
And that was exactly why Anna couldn’t believe it.
The tears kept coming, silent and helpless, out of her control.
And no matter how tightly she squeezed her eyes shut, the words didn’t stop echoing in her head.
It doesn’t have to be wrong.
But Anna knew better.
That was the worst part.
Because some small, desperate part of her wanted it to be true so badly it hurt.
But she knew it wasn’t. It could never be.
But that didn’t stop her from wishing it was.