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XIV: Football

There were two voices speaking Russian.

"I swear, mama oughtta slap you silly for that."

"Sashka, I swear, if you are stupid enou-" the voice halted his reply to the similar sounding one. "Is that..."

"Lilac?" a voice questioned and the gentle touch of a hand on my shoulder suddenly arrived. I didn't move and had stopped crying when this happened. "What should we do?"

"We should carry her to-" "I'm fine." I blurted out, cutting off the words of whoever spoke, raising my head from my arms where it was tucked.

The two, who were Sashka and Mishka, which is which, I didn't know for certain, seeing my definitely blotchy face, knit their brows and had their expressions soften. "What's wrong?" the one to my right asked. "Do you need us to do anything?" the one on my left added, his softened features hardening with anger.

I sighed and nodded, looking between them in confusion. "No, no. I'm... just..

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