And then he lifts me in his arms and tucks me to his chest, warmth blanketing me. We’re on his bed, beneath his comforter in seconds, and he just holds me, strong, muscular arms wrapped around my frame. I press my forehead to his collar, trying not to shiver so much. He kisses my cheek and whispers soft Russian words that bathe my skin in heat. I turn them over in my mind, clinging onto what sounds like: Vot moe serce. And then others…that I can’t uncover. I tilt my chin up, silently asking. He repeats the Russian words, so deeply, but refuses to translate this time. It’s enough as it is.
...more
