Chapter Text
Ilya woke up, already feeling excited. Today was his 8th birthday. He loved his birthday. His mom always made a big deal out of it and made him feel special, even if no one else in his life made him feel special.
Ilya clamored out of bed, pulling on clothes he pulled haphazardly from his little closet. Their apartment is small, but finally, Ilya has his own bedroom. He feels so lucky to not have to share a room with Alexei like in the past. Alexei hated the fact that he had to share a room with Ilya, and would steal his clothes and keep Ilya awake at night by playing his stupid video games very loudly and cursing.
Ilya walks the short distance to the kitchen, where his mom is making tea. “Good morning, Ilyushenka,” She says. She is smiling, her eyes warm and comforting, and her blonde hair cascading down around her shoulders. “Happy Birthday, my dear boy,”
She gathers Ilya up into a hug. Ilya’s face presses into the softness of her arm. He smells the scent of their laundry soap and the familiar perfume his mom always wears. It smells kind of like honey and cinnamon, mixed with the scent of baked sugar and butter coming from the kitchen.
“Thank you, mama,” Ilya says.
“Come into the living room,” His mom says. “I have a surprise for you.”
Ilya and Irina headed into the living room. Ilya smiled upon the sight when he entered the room. There was a cake sitting on the dining room table. A Napoleon cake, one of Ilya’s favorites. He could tell his mom had made it herself, homemade, by the way the layers of thin pastry were a little wobbly looking. There were eight candles stuck into the top of it, all different colors. It looked delicious. There was a handmade sign taped to the thick rug that blanketed the wall. “Happy Birthday, Ilya” was written on it in Russian, in his mom’s handwriting. There were a few balloons strewn about the room.
Ilya felt so loved. His cheeks started to hurt from smiling so much. “Thank you so much, mama. I love you,” He said.
“I love you more, malen'kiy golub.”