The six times Vladimir Levinson fell in love:
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
He caught the pack of cigarettes she tossed at him. Meg was leaning against the brick wall of the alley, when Vladimir looked up. “Don’t say I never got you anything.”
The six times Vladimir Levinson fell in love:
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six.
“You know, I’ll hardly ever see you when you drop out,” Elena said, sitting beside him on the side steps of their high school.
“Priya! You came!” Delia squealed with delight, jumping down from her seat on the bar, ankles somehow remaining unbroken as she dashed toward the door.
Two hours. They had been in this line for two hours now. Two hours of Sophia crying, Simon complaining that he was hungry, and who knew what Josie was jabbering on about. Sophia, Vladimir could forgive. She was four years old and they hadn’t anticipated the waiting in line for Santa to cut into her nap time. Simon on the other hand was almost seven years old. He knew how to behave or rather he should have. Besides, the kid hadn’t eaten more than he had at lunch. Vladimir was surprised he hadn’t thrown up. Vladimir visibly shuddered as an image of his son puking on Santa Claus flashed in his head.
“What are you girls having tonight?” Vladimir asked his wife as she leaned against the bar. He nodded at her three best friends waved as they waved at him from their table across the room.
“Well, its Georgie’s birthday so I guess we should let her choose …” Vladimir reached for a bottle of whiskey as Josie paused. However, he quickly put it down when she continued, “But a certain Ms. Magdalene is hiding something from us so I think we might need to try the peppermint schnapps.”
Vladimir sighed as he putted the bottle off the top of the shelf as well as four shot glasses, though he knew the fourth was completely unnecessary. “Josephine, in all the years you’ve known her, has Maggie ever had a drink? You’d have better luck with Franc and he hasn’t touched the stuff in nearly a decade.”
One hundred and thirty dollars, the stupid fake Christmas tree had cost him hundred and thirty dollars. Plus however much Josie managed to rack up on his credit card on ornaments and other decorations. Why had he let Josie move in again? Oh right. The cat needed her. Vladimir smiled. He would never say it out loud but he kind of needed her too.
“What are you smiling about, love? Finally getting infected by the Christmas spirit our new tree brings?” She kissed him cheek, walking over to hang a few silver ball ornaments. Vladimir rolled his eyes. She was making his apartment look like some picture out of a Home & Garden magazine. It made Josie happy, but he didn’t much care for it. “Oh, Vladimir don’t give me that look; it’s beautiful. See, even Peanut likes it.”
She swooped up the cat she had dropped of all those years ago into her arms. Josie then plopped down next to him on the couch. Vladimir put his arm around Josie. “Peanut just enjoys all this tinsel to play with.”
the only solution
Vladimir and Josie might have to do this after what Peanut did in my Day Eight Christmas prompt, which I’m about to finish!
“No,” Vladimir said, pushing the box away from him with his feet. All he wanted was to sit on the couch and nap after mass. And here Josie wanted to bedazzle his apartment with Christmas decorations. She had lived here for less than a week and already Josie was taking over his apartment. This morning he couldn’t find his clothes because Josie had packed the closet full of her own.
“Please.” She clasped her hand together as if begging him. Vladimir just closed his eyes, laying his head back on the couch. Puppy eyes hadn’t worked when she was sixteen; they weren’t going to work now. Josie seemed to realize that as she stamped her foot. Vladimir hoped she broke her heel. “Vladimir! It’s Christmas.”
Pouring drinks like this would drive Vladimir nuts …
This bartender would most certainly be fired for making a mess with their fancy pouring.
(Imagine that woman is Josie.)
Vladimir would like to point out that Josie made him wear the shirt. He doesn’t do pink … or suits really.
Maggie at the Peanut Gallery.
Smiling proudly as the permanently designated ‘get my friends home safe’ person.
On another note: Vladimir blames Josie for the fairy lights.
She wanted to do a theme night.
He cannot resist her unfortunately.
FACE CLAIM!
The ever-amusing Paul Bettany as Vladimir.
He’s pretty much perfect … except he’s blonde!
Anybody know of anything where Bettany had dark hair? ANYTHING?
Peanut was on the hunt. The rat had intruded on his turf for the final time. It was going to die today. He was about to pounce when Mom let out a milk-curdling scream. Dad rushed to pick up the enemy and throw it out the window. Once again Vladimir got to be hero and get all the grateful kisses from Josie, when Peanut had done all the work.
(Aww look, Peanut’s pouting.)
He had told her to sit still and just wait. Josephine thought she knew what to expect: Vladimir was going to propose and her darling Peanut was going to deliver the ring. She had practiced her reaction to perfection, even had a cat treat in her pocket ready to give to their delightful pet feline. To say that she was surprised when a hat rack twirled her way with a hat rack secured around a peg, was an understatement. For years after, Vladimir would blame Josie’s screaming of ‘yes’ for him beginning to go deaf.
