The car was silent, save for the hum of the engine and the steady tapping of your fingers against the car door. Despite the tension in the air, you couldn't resist breaking it. "Do you know what maleesha means?" you asked, glancing at Vladimir's reflection in the rearview mirror. his jaw tightened, his cold glare meeting yours in the mirror. He didn’t reply, but the warning in his eyes was clear. "Right, sorry. You're not Russian, of course. You wouldn’t know what it means," you continued, undeterred by the silence. "You see, this guy I’m seeing keeps calling me that. It’s been driving me nuts not knowing what it means, so—"

"Shut up,"

Vladimir growled, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

you blinked, momentarily startled, but then a smirk tugged at your lips. you leaned back in your seat, crossing arms. "Anyways," you said casually, as if he hadn’t just barked at you, "I Googled it last night. Turns out it means 'baby girl.' Weird, huh?"

Vladimir let out a frustrated sigh, his knuckles turning white on the wheel.

"God help me,"

he muttered under his breath. But you just grinned, clearly enjoying the reaction.