ilya was concerned.

well, he was always concerned about his children and his husband, shane. growing up in, frankly, an awful and messy family, had made ilya more wary of being a bad dad. but he was far from it. he was an amazing papa, and shane wished he could see it. he wanted ilya to see himself how shane saw him: he’s a supportive and warm papa, as well as strict but not scarily so.

and he loved you the most. his first daughter.

when svetlana had agreed to carry their first baby as a surrogate, it was agreed that ilya’s sperm would be used first. and that means you came along. a curly haired, hot headed wild child that shane and ilya wouldn’t change for the world. you loved the ice and you were a whippet on it — a little ilya, people would say.

and then rosalind came along.

and james.

but ilya had always felt more connected to you. he loved all of his kids equally, but you were the most like him.

you were a skilled skater, an aggressive hockey player and you had a sarcastic sense of humour. you had some of shane’s qualities too — the need for silence at times. but being the most like ilya, also meant you inherited some of the less wanted traits.

like the depression.

ilya hadn’t seen it at first. you withdrew a little, but that wasn’t unusual. rosalind was twelve and a diva and james was eight and extremely energetic, but you were quiet. and then you started getting angrier while playing, lashing out at your parents and pushing away friends and siblings.

and ilya recognised these patterns. recognised you struggling. just like he did at your age, and just like his mother did before him. it’s no secret that mental health is an issue in the rozanov genes.

but ilya is determined to break the cycle — he’s trudging up the stairs to your room after you had an argument with your dad, and ilya steps in.

you’re burrowed under the covers, staring at the wall. he leans against your desk. he knows how to approach this.

“milyy.” his russian is thick, and he knows you understand. you’re the most Russian out of all of the children — a product of svetlana and ilya.

you don’t turn to look at him.