He’s offered to teach me how to cook since I’ve always mentioned I wanted to learn how. He brings me flowers every morning, then places them in a vase. No kidding. Kirill, who kills for sport, is picking flowers for me like some doting lover. Sometimes, we talk until late into the night. Other times, we go hiking until we reach the peak and then he watches me scream at the top of my lungs with a huge grin on his face. He’s been giving me deep massages to loosen my muscles. In part, he’s doing it so I’m more energized for the next fucking session, but I take it with gratefulness. I know these
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