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Leo wouldn’t touch her. Normally that might’ve come as a relief, since she’d never really welcomed his touch, not like a ‘proper’ wife should anyway, but this was different.

He had never been a man of many words, not even in the beginning when he’d still been young enough for his eyes to hold some kind of hope. To communicate Leo had always used touches, right from the moment he hadn’t been required to court her anymore by talking, he had stuck with touches. Little, tender, hesitant touches at first. He’d held her hand in this or that situation, his fingers brushing the small of her back when she’d gotten into a car or walked through a door he’d opened for her, her hair in his palm when he’d finished talking. Yes, Leo was a very tactile person, Raisa had known this from the beginning.

He hadn’t been shy to touch her, not after she’d said yes and they got married and all that. It wasn’t that he was cruel or anything, a grip would sometimes happen to be too tight from time to time, but he’d never raised his hand at her or forced her to do anything she’d said she didn’t want to do. Not that she’d ever had a choice, not that she’d ever dared to say no to him, at least not the first year.

But he wasn’t difficult to live with, once she’d gotten used to his silence, mostly accompanied by drawn eyebrows and a broody face, there were some perks of being married to him. The nights when he’d take her weren’t strictly speaking unpleasant, not like the first weeks had been, when she’d still been too terrified to even remotely relax. It had never been her favourite night-time-activity but after a while she’d gotten used to it. He wasn’t even clingy in his sleep, let her keep her space apart from sometimes a careless arm flung over her or thighs and elbows brushing. His income allowed her to live in far greater luxury than she’d ever expected, Leo was very clean due to his work – always clean shaven and scrubbed until his skin smelled only of soap – and even though he sometimes made it very clear that he hadn’t been born in the sophisticated, privileged circles they now moved in, all in all it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Not as bad as many other had it, Raisa knew.

The best memory she had from him in their bed was that one time he’d come home really late and she’d been reading, and he hadn’t said a word just taken off his clothes and climbed into bed. For a while he had been silent like so often and she’d just decided to go back to reading, when he’d suddenly spoken up.

»I saw a boy die today. And nobody cared, because he had nobody. Nobody of his own.« He’d lain there with his eyes closed, arm flung over his face and lips pressed into a thin line. With a sharp exhale, eyes grey and hard like cold steel, he’d lift the arm away and looked at her. »It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t his fault he was all alone.«

And then he’d asked her to read to him and so she’d read. He’d listened, eyes glazed over and she hadn’t been sure if he was even listening or lost in his own broody thoughts again, but eventually his eyes had fallen shut, lids gone heavy, and he’d rolled to the side, his nose bumping softly into her shoulder. His face relaxed, full lips parted in sleepy sighs and the lines on his forehead smoothed out, he’d looked softened, suddenly like a child, and she’d read and read until her throat was sore.

Now, after she’d told him the truth – her truth at least – of their marriage, he wouldn’t touch her.

The look of horror, horror over himself, and disbelief, had changed into the lost look of a man whose world had been turned completely upside down and was left with nothing to hold onto. No matter how often Raisa told herself she didn’t care, it wasn’t like she could just ignore him, silently suffering and in pain, like she’d done so long. But then, he hadn’t known, had he? He hadn’t known she’d been suffering all this time, while right now she knew exactly in what kind of pain he was. She didn’t really know what he’d have done, had he known how she truly felt about him, maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference; but it would have been different, letting someone consciously suffer was cruelty, whilst being unaware of it just made him ignorant. And if she knew one thing about Leo, it was that he was never cruel without reason.

So she couldn’t stand by and watch the knowledge of her side of their ‘love story’ eat away at him, destroy him bit by bit from the inside out. There was a small part in her, that told her he deserved it, but there was a much bigger part, the part that had actually wished her faked pregnancy to be true, the part that had her loving the children in her classes, that part told her that this wasn’t her. She should be doing something, help the man who’d loved her the best he could with his torn and shredded soul out of his misery. But it felt like the start of their marriage all over again, she didn’t know what she could say or do, she didn’t know how he’d respond and she was scared, so scared of doing something wrong, hurting him even more or making him snap and shatter their fragile glass-construction of a marriage into a thousand pieces. So she sat frozen, watched him suffer and didn’t know what to do.

Of course Leo had always been the braver one of the two of them. Not in the macho-male kind of way, it was just that he walked into situations much more openly, taking things as they went, while Raisa approached each new situation wearily and weighed the risks and possibilities of outcome before she walked into said situation. So, while she was still contemplating and thinking about how to make this better, how to fix what had been broken, Leo just acted.

It was instinctively, she knew, because when he first reached out to her, the tips of his fingers brushing the back of her hands, folded in her lap, he curled the hand into a fist like he’d been burned and retracted it as quickly as possible.

»Sorry.«

What to say? Her skin tingled where he’d touched her and she curiously flexed her fingers. Were her fingers going numb or was it Leo’s touch? »It’s alright«, she said and was surprised it wasn’t a lie. The touch, however fleeing it had been, didn’t have this weight to it that Raisa was used to by now. There wasn’t any lingering coldness, like sometimes, it was just … tingling. But somehow it was, it was alright he’d touched her. Maybe not back then but now it was.

Leo didn’t look at her face and kept stabbing his dinner that night, like he was thirsty for the blood that had long been drained from the chicken. She knew she had to make him do it again, just have him casually touch her so he got used to it again, got used to it being … alright, this time around.

When he’d finished his dinner, he pushed back the chair gruffly and stomped out of the room with a thunderous frown on his face. She stayed put in her chair for another moment and stared at the dishes, white porcelain Leo’s mother had gifted them on their wedding. Since they’d come back from Voualsk to Moscow and Leo had been reinstated they hadn’t used these, but tonight she’d wanted to do something nice, something to ease the twisted anger in Leo’s eyes that seemed to have tightened since he’d accidentally touched her again.

Obviously it hadn’t worked. Leo had probably not even noticed it and Raise didn’t know why she’d even expected him to.

Standing up she cleaned the table and scrubbed the dishes, not a sound coming from the closed bedroom door but her thoughts were loud enough inside her head. She wasn’t in love with Leo, she wasn’t. But she didn’t want him to suffer either. She just wanted to ease his pain, his anger at himself and she knew the best – maybe even only – way to accomplish that was by letting him do what he always did. He touched her and after all this time of being his wife she knew him being tactile meant mostly reassuring himself. Of what exactly, she didn’t know, but maybe she didn’t need to know, maybe it was enough to have him touch her, hold her again. Communicate with her in his own way.

When she slowly opened the bedroom door, Leo was lying on his side of the bed, covers pulled up over his shoulders, his eyes on the door. He’d always slept closer to the door, at first she’d thought because like this he could catch her easier should she try to escape, but now she knew better. She knew him better.

His eyes were hard and cold when he looked at her, expressionless and distant. They could be quite a beautiful blue, she knew, but most of the time they were grey and cool, like dirty, crisp ice under her shoes in the winter or unforgiving rocks, just waiting for someone to fall and shatter. When she realized she was staring, she averted her eyes quickly and shuffled over to the foot of the bed where she pulled open a drawer and changed into her nightgown. His eyes were on her the entire time and usually she’d have interpreted that as a sign of want, a threatening assurance he wanted her tonight. But this was different. His gaze wasn’t heated, it was cold – cold and so, so angry.

She turned around slowly when she’d put away her clothes.
»Leo … « She didn’t know what she was going to say anyways but his rough voice startled her when he interrupted her immediately.

»Don’t make me sleep on the floor, I swear to god«, he bit out and his eyes got even icier. »I’m sorry I touched you, alright? But I’m not sleeping on the floor, or on the couch for that matter. This is my fucking home, too, my fucking bed and I’ll damn well sleep in it.«

Raisa swallowed and looked down at her knotted hands, fingers digging into her palms. »I … I wasn’t going to – «

»We can talk about this tomorrow«, he cut in again and this time there was the ruffling of sheets as he turned back around. She knew he hadn’t closed his eyes and was staring at the door again, but she didn’t know what to do. When she timidly climbed into bed next to him he didn’t move and she exhaled a soft sigh.

It was dark when she tried again, touching his shoulder hesitantly and jumping when he reared back.

»Don’t touch me, when you don’t really want to«, he hissed and rolled even further away.

This time she didn’t even attempt to cover up her sigh. Part of what made Leo such a good investigator was that he was extraordinarily stubborn. In his file they may have called it ‘persistent’ but to her it was simple stubbornness. He wouldn’t budge on his beliefs, it took time and patience to wear him down like the sea licking at immovable rocks on the shore. Mostly Leo’s beliefs were about other people, the country, colleagues, friends, but he was just the same now, so convinced of himself being a monster. Not only for his job but in general.

No matter for how long she’d have agreed with him on that and been happy to divorce him, now, after she’d finally said what had been on her mind for so long and he’d reacted like this … he wasn’t a monster, at least not intentionally.

She would just have to prove it. Prove it to the toughest investigator of the MGB.
But then again, she’d been able to convince him she was innocent where everyone else before her had failed. He chances weren’t that bad.

They didn’t talk the next day. Not about what happened anyway.

A week after the incident <,he told her about those girls, the ones whose parents had been killed by Vasili. He said he felt responsible. She heard the unspoken ‘guilty’ as well. She suggested they could, maybe, take care of them? They had the money after all, right? And they could go to school with Raisa. It would be a tight fit alright, but they could all live in their apartment.

Leo’s face was slack with surprise, his mouth half opened and his eyes wide, so wide and blue and she could feel something twist and burn in her chest when she saw a long lost spark of hope there. »D’you … you mean that? We could … «

She nodded after she was sure he’d trailed off and even though he didn’t smile, something like relief showed on his face. »I’m going to buy a whole fucking house if that’s what it takes to make y- them … happy.«

The brightness in his eyes soon left when his face pulled into that familiar frown again as his thoughts were taken by darkness once more.

She knew how terrified Leo was to meet the girls, could see it in the tenseness of his shoulders, his stiffly held posture and the thin pressed line of his lips. When he spoke to the girls she almost couldn’t bear to look at him, so stripped bare and raw, eyes glistening with emotion and hope and terrible, gut-twisting fear.

He took her hand while they waited for the girls to make their decision. Again it was subconscious but this time he didn’t seem to realize it, too much anxiety flooding his veins to think straight. She let him, squeezed his fingers reassuringly and didn’t say anything.

»Raisa. Do you think I’m truly a … a monster?«

The uttered question, voice rough and the look in his eyes so utterly lost, more vulnerable than she’d ever seen him, made her lungs flutter and her heart thump wildly against her ribs. The smile tugging on her lips was the only outward reaction to the unexpected tenderness, warmth softly blooming inside of her, as she shook her head lightly.

»No.«

No, he wasn’t a monster. The fact that he cared enough to even ask, to be this petrified of two little girls, should be answer enough.

Only when they stood again did she realize her hand had been on his knee.

The girls adjusted slowly. In the beginning they didn’t even dare to touch most things in their apartment, all big eyes and small hands clasped together. Raisa encouraged them to help her clean the rooms and wash the dishes, sometimes even help her cook, so they could get acquainted with everything without it being too obvious.

They weren’t half bad at cleaning and when they cooked sometimes they’d even crack a smile, on one occasion there was even laughter. After three weeks they had settled in as best they could and they liked Raisa, trusted her in a childish, naïve way that made her smile.

However, they were still weary around Leo, which was understandable of course, he wasn’t there as much as she was and he did come home every night wearing the uniform he’d worn the day the girls’ parents had been killed.
Even without him saying anything, she noticed little items turning up seemingly out of nowhere and especially Elena took a liking to them. They were mostly quiet when Leo was present, only addressed him when prompted or unavoidable, but they had stopped flinching every time they heard his voice. On the other hand, Leo was almost tiptoeing around them, anxious to make mistakes and scare them like his face alone had in the beginning. But he didn’t say anything and every time a new toy turned up, Raisa smiled at him over the dinner table.

The girls’ first day in school was complicated. Everyone was curious of course and the fact that their hair had only barely reached shoulder-length didn’t help, but all in all they managed fine even if Zoya squeezed out a few tears when she had to be separated from Elena. Every day it got better, easier, and they would always wait for Raisa when school was out, so they could walk home together. Zoya as the younger one was a bit more open than Elena, she took Raisa’s hand sometimes when they walked and was much more ready to talk about her day and the new friends she’d made and the mean boy who said her hair looked weird.

Elena was very protective over Zoya and helped her with everything she could; she didn’t talk as much as Zoya did but she smiled often and liked playing with the mysterious dolls. After two months Leo couldn’t fend off another dinner invitation and so they asked his parents to watch the children while they were away. Elena and Zoya had met his parents on several occasions but the girls still seemed to make up their mind about them. What Raisa hadn’t expected was Zoya bursting into tears when Leo and her got ready to leave.

»What is it, little one?«, Raisa asked worried and quit fiddling with her earrings – an anniversary present from Leo two years ago. She crouched down before the sniffling girl who held her sister’s hand and hid her face in Elena’s shoulder. Behind her she felt Leo stop moving and knew he was watching them.

Carefully she stroked over the slowly growing locks of soft hair curling on Zoya’s head and made soft shushing sounds when she didn’t get an answer.

»You won’t come back.« It was Elena who answered, her eyes wide and fearful as well as determined like she tried to fight back her own upcoming tears. »She thinks you won’t come back and leave us here and we’ll have to go back to the orphanage and be alone again.«

Raisa felt something twist inside her and she shook her head adamantly. »No. No, of course not, we’ll be back before you know it. I promise, we’ll come back. I promise.«

Zoya’s sniffling continued and her knuckles were white as she held onto her sister’s hand. Elena chewed on her bottom lip and nodded but didn’t say anything. Raisa didn’t know what to do to make them believe her. Maybe they should stay? Just until the girls trusted them more …

»Leo«, she began but when she turned around he was standing far closer than she’d expected. He loomed over them, tall and broad, his uniform fitting perfectly around his shoulders and making them look even wider.

»Take it«, he said and only then did Raisa realize he was holding his hand out. If he attempted to look non-threatening he was doing a poor job, he wasn’t the tallest man but he sure towered over the girls. And Raisa.

Elena stared at Leo with big brown eyes seemingly frozen in place, in surprise or fear Raisa couldn’t tell. But Zoya peeked at him from under her sister’s arm that was curled protectively around her shoulders, her face glistening wet with tears. Her gaze flickered up to Leo’s face then to his out-stretched hand and her eyes widened slightly. She reached for whatever it was he was holding out and Raisa could see Elena’s grip tightening around Zoya’s shoulders as if she was trying to hold her back but Zoya picked the offered item out of Leo’s big open hand and curled her own small fingers around it. Raisa could see it glistening and her jaw almost dropped when she realized it was his precious coin, the one he always played with when he was nervous.

»I’ll be coming back for that«, Leo said, his voice still gruff even though he was clearly trying to soften the harsh sound.

Zoya’s eyes were still shining with tears and she was still holding onto her sister for dear life, but she nodded mutely and looked from the coin to his face and back.

Seconds later the doorbell rang and Raisa had to rush to finish off her make-up and put on the rest of her jewellery. Zoya had the coin clasped in her tiny fist when they finally left, still looking fearful but at least with something in her eyes resembling hope, a hope to trust.

Leo didn’t speak to Raisa until they arrived at his friend’s house, only then did he take her arm and his eyes were hard then, as if he was daring her to complain. Although his grip was tense she didn’t protest, just let him lead the way and open doors for her like he’d always done. During the evening he managed to relax gradually and the fleeting touches became softer, more like before, but he wouldn’t speak a word about all of it when they were alone in the car again.

Raisa was at a loss. She allowed him to touch her as much as he liked but he hadn’t touched her apart from the few occasions it had been unavoidable. She hadn’t said anything to him to cause this behaviour, she had never eplicitly told him to stay away; not even when she’d told him about her version of their meeting she’d told him to stay away. It had just been such a relief to finally be able to breathe, to speak about the old pain that had been buried so deep inside of her for so long. She didn’t love him, at least she didn’t think she did. Not in the way he loved her. Had loved her. Still did? She couldn’t tell.

All of this was so confusing, and she hadn't meant for him to beat himself up so badly, she’d just wanted him to know, to understand what she was really thinking, at least for once. She didn’t want to divorce him and never see him again like he’d suggested during their trip to Moscow from Voualsk. Maybe it was for the wrong reasons but she wanted to stay with him, not only for the comfort of their home and his wealth but for the comfort of his company. It wasn’t the same as love, she knew, but one could work with friendship, right? She liked him, in an inexplicable kind of way, liked his rough edges and dark sides, the way his eyes changed and his mouth sometimes softened, the way he always held himself as if ready for a fight, ready to defend not only himself but her as well. She’d liked it when he’d held her that last night in Moscow before they were sent away. He’d held her like a promise to keep her as safe as he possibly could.

And now he wouldn’t touch her, she thought and looked at him. His face was turned away from her, eyes on the dimly lit streets of Moscow, shadows following light with more shadows on its heels, gliding over his face. He wouldn’t talk to her, not only with words – which he’d always been useless at anyway when it came to the important things – but also not with touches. He wouldn’t speak the only language to her that he knew, wouldn’t communicate with her and she didn’t know what to do.

She should be bolder, braver. Brave for this man who had been brave all his life in a way he maybe even didn’t understand himself. But she wasn’t, she’d always been scared of attracting the wrong kind of attention. No attention at all was still much better than the wrong kind, that was the way she’d always lived. Not that it had worked out well.

They still didn’t talk when they got out of the car and took the stairs up to their apartment. His parents greeted them quietly and said their goodnights, telling them the girls had fallen asleep almost two hours ago.

The door clicked shut and there was nothing but silence again. For almost a minute they didn’t move just looked at the room, the plates in the sink and glasses on the table. Only one lamp was switched on and spilled its yellow light into the room. Then Leo cleared his throat and started untying his boots, dropping them carelessly and unbuckling the belt of his uniform. She quietly untied her scarf and folded it neatly before opening her coat and hanging it on the mantelpiece. Other than the rustling of clothes there were no sounds to be heard.

Leo was opening the buttons of his jacket, forehead once again pulled into a deep frown, when she convinced herself to speak up again.

»Leo … can we- can we talk?«, she asked, trying not to stammer but failing miserably. His hands halted for a second then he gave a grunt of confirmation.

»We’re talking«, he grumbled and took his jacket off. »I’m listening.«

She gulped and suddenly felt breathless, knowing she had to get it right to get him to listen to her and not gruffly brush her off again. Clearing her throat she looked to her hands and heard him move around in the kitchen, probably in search of a drink.

»I … I wanted to talk about«, she grimaced and couldn’t find the right words. »I mean about how you … you don’t … are you mad at me?«

That wasn’t what she’d wanted to say at all and for a moment she was stunned by her own words. She looked up to see Leo’s reaction and found him scowling at her across the room, his hands on a bottle of some liquor and a glass. But he didn’t speak so she slowly made her way towards him until she stood in the doorway to the kitchen and finally he moved, snorted and poured himself a glass.

»Why would I be mad at you?«, he said , his mouth twisted in something she couldn’t quite identify – maybe it was the bitter taste of the liquid. »You did nothing wrong, did you? I am the bad guy, I am the one who … who forced you to … I am the bad guy. So why would I be mad at you?«

She shook her head even before he had finished talking. He was interpreting all of this so wrong and she was somehow unable to make it better. Why couldn’t she just find the right words? »No. Leo, no, of course you’re not the bad guy – I mean you were, I don’t … I just want to know why you don’t talk to me anymore. I want to … what can I do? What do you want me to do?« What do you need me to do?

For a moment Leo seemed frozen then suddenly he slammed the glass onto the counter, the sound banging loud and clear through the kitchen and she almost flinched. »Fuck«, he said, his face even darker than before. »Fuck, this is … « He took deep breaths, seemingly to calm himself and she still had no clue what she’d done wrong.

»I just wish you’d talk to me«, she rambled hastily, scared he was taking this the wrong way again and now growing even angrier at her. »You know, just so I could know what to do. I want this to work but I don’t know what it is exactly that you want. You won’t let me touch you, you won’t talk to me, you won’t … I just don’t know how to makes this better, I don’t … «

Leo stared hard at her for far too long for it to be comfortable anymore and just when she thought he was just going to stare her down and not say anything, he opened his mouth, only to be interrupted by a child’s small voice. »Are you fighting?«

Zoya stood in the hallway, nightgown too long for her tiny frame, and she rubbed a small fist over her eyes. Leo seemed to be frozen in place, staring at her in a sort of baffled surprise like he’d never expected her to show up here.

»No«, Raisa hastened to say and went to crouch down in front of Zoya. She threw a look at Leo to make sure he didn’t say anything to confirm the girl’s suspicions, but he had his lips pressed into a thin line yet again and an almost pained expression on his face. »No, of course we’re not fighting«, Raisa said with a hollow smile and rubbed Zoya’s hand. »Why are you up? You should be in bed. Sleeping.«

Zoya yawned and leaned on Raisa’s shoulder, seemingly still half asleep. Her eyes drooped already but then suddenly she stared up at Leo like he’d startled here. Her weight on Raisa’s shoulder got a little heavier and there was a small hand squeezing her finger. »You came back.«

Raisa knew Zoya was talking to her as much as Leo but she was staring at him with such intensity, like she’d just seen him for the first time. So Raisa waited for Leo to answer – maybe he would at least talk to the children since he wasn’t telling her a thing.

There was a long silence, Leo shuffling his feet and then there was the sound of footsteps as he approached Raisa’s back, Zoya’s wide eyes fixed on him.

»Go to bed«, he said in his usual gruff voice when he hesitated next to them. He looked at them for a moment then hesitantly reached out and touched Zoya’s hair. »Sweet dreams.«

And then he was out of the door and Raisa shuffled Zoya to her and Elena’s room, tucked her in and tried not to wake the other girl.

»I forgot to give him back his coin«, Zoya whispered, big eyes staring up at her. She held out her tiny hand, opened her fist and showed Raisa the coin safely tucked inside. »I kept it safe, all night, for him. Even when Grandma said I should put it aside for dinner, I didn’t let go. He said, he’d come back for it. He promised, he’d come back.«

»And he did.« Raisa swallowed around something big and painful in her throat and carefully plucked the coin from Zoya’s hand. »I’ll give it to him. And I’ll tell him how good you were looking after it, alright? He’ll be very happy about this, Zoya. Thank you.«

Zoya smiled, timid but happy, when Raisa exited the room and closed the door softly behind her. Hopefully the little girl would sleep now, otherwise she’d be very tired tomorrow. Raisa found herself carrying the coin with such care, as though the girl’s awe for it had somehow sprung over to her, making her hold it like the most precious thing in the world as she walked over to the bedroom.
When she entered, Leo was just in the process of undressing and for a moment her mouth was too dry to talk, as she stared at his bare chest and half opened trousers. Now there was a sight she hadn’t seen in a very long time.

»Uhm … this, Zoya gave me this for you«, she managed to say and looked up into Leo’s face. He stared right back and then to the coin in her proffered hand. »She told me to tell you, how she kept it safe all evening.«

For a moment it seemed as if Leo wouldn’t answer. When he did, his voice was strangely weak, almost desperate. »Why?«

Raisa took a few careful steps towards him, the coin still safe in her outstretched hand. »Because you promised you’d come back, of course, Leo«, she said with half a smile when his gaze flickered up to her face again.

»But … I could’ve lied«, he replied, clearly not understanding.

»You didn’t, though.« She tried for nonchalant shrugging but missed probably by a mile, her heart beating rapidly in the back of her throat. »You never lie unless you absolutely have to, in order to keep the people important to you safe. The girl’s will learn that soon enough.«

Leo had his hand already reaching out to take the coin but froze at her words. »What?«

»You’re not … you’re not a bad man, Leo«, she said quietly, eyes downcast because she couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. »You’re not a … monster, like I know you think. You – you try to keep everything in your small world safe, that’s what you do. That’s not the deed of a bad man, it’s not.«

His hand was balled to a fist by now and she half expected him to hit her. He hadn’t before and it was a foolish thought he’d start now, but still. Instead, he slowly lowered it until he could pick up the coin from her open, offering palm, his fingertips grazing her skin slightly.
»Why … « He cleared his throat awkwardly but didn’t look away when she lifted her gaze to meet his timidly. »You said … before, you said you wanted to … to make things better. Why? What things?« His grey eyes looked almost suspicious and she was sure he was expecting her to lash out at him, to push him away yet again and tell him – tell him – well, what exactly? »What do you mean by ‘better’?«

She sucked the inside of her lower lip between her teeth and looked down to where her hands were fisted in the fabric of her skirt, before she forced herself to look at him again, a few dark blonde locks now obscuring her view. Slowly she removed a hand from its place at her clothes and brushed the strands away. »I want … I want us to be better. Like, y-you and me … ? Just. When we were finding out all about the children, yes? I know it wasn’t great but … we talked and … we worked together. And you protected me.«
Her gaze had sunk to the area around his navel again, she was unable to look him in the eye. She still couldn’t put in words all that she wanted, all that she meant by ‘making it better’, but this was a start. Hopefully.

And then there was a finger, rough and warm and manly, demanding and gentle at the same time as it hooked under her chin and pulled upward, forcing her to look up again. »I still protect you. I would do the same all over again. You have to know that.«

It was hard to swallow with her head tipped back like this, the line of her throat stretched and bared, but she managed, her eyes flickering between his. »I … I know, Leo.«
He didn’t react, didn’t nod or even blink, but his gaze dropped from her eyes to her mouth and before she knew it, he had leaned forward. Just a few inches, not all that much, but he froze immediately. He didn’t look up into her eyes, but the curve of his mouth turned hard and down again, and then his finger was gone and he stepped back.

»Leo«, she said again, didn’t know what else to say.
»My apologies«, he mumbled, his voice low and hard, shoulders tense even as he obviously worked to keep his hands loose and not curled into fists. She could see he was furious, even in just the way he had his neck bowed slightly, his head tipped forward so he could fix his stare at the floor.
»Leo«, she repeated and stepped forward, but this time, before he could shrink away again, she reached out as well and caught him by his wrists. There was no fabric to hold onto, as he had shed his shirt already before she’d even entered the bedroom.

He was breathing harshly through his nose and his bicep was hard as stone when she trailed one hand up his arm and over his shoulder, until she pressed her palm flat onto the space between collarbone and ribs.
She took another step closer until her nose almost brushed his chin. »Leo.«

Leo made a broken sort of sound, one she’d never heard him make before, when she leaned up and against him, his eyes squeezed shut even as she brushed his lips with hers hesitantly. His hands were resting by his side, balled into fists after all, and his breaths came sharp and quick. Raisa would’ve backed up by now but there was the small promise of pressure against her mouth and after a few seconds, during which she could feel his flying pulse under her hand, there was a minute turn of his head, he was turning into her touch.

»I’m sorry«, she whispered right into his mouth, her own eyes closed by now. She released the remaining wrist she was holding and slowly, daringly spread her fingers over his ribs, felt the skin cool from the nightly air around them under her palm. »I’m sorry for … what happened and … please, you’re not … you’re not a monster, Leo, please. You’re … brave and kind, as much as the world allows you. You’ve been kind to me, in your own way, and I understand that, I do. I can’t help what it felt like for me, but … that’s changed. You do realize that, don’t you? It’s not … it’s not like it was in the beginning, especially now. I’m not … I wouldn’t … you’re a good person.«

He made a wounded noise and pressed his forehead too hard against hers, one hand tentatively curling around her hip, holding on as he took shaky breaths.
»You’ve done bad things, I understand«, she continued and his breath stopped for a moment. »But it’s not … that’s not you, Leo. If … if it were up to you, you wouldn’t be doing any of those things. They are not who you are.«

He wasn’t crying, but she could see how damp his eyelashes were when she opened her eyes to find his still shut tightly. She slipped the hand by his shoulder up and curled it around his neck, fingers digging in a bit when she pulled him down enough to press a kiss to his creased forehead.

»I’m sorry«, he whispered and it was too loud, almost a sob, and he was shuddering through it. His second hand was coming up now, too, took hold of her and held on. »I’m so sorry, Raisa, I’m so sorry«, he gasped out, a fine tremor in his strong, wide shoulders when she carded her fingers through the cropped short hair in his neck. »I didn’t … I never wanted … I’m sorry. I can’t … I just – I’m sorry. I’m sorry.«

She murmured what she hoped were soothing words into his hairline and kept stroking the back of his head, her free hand resting somewhere below his heart to steady him as he tried to catch his breath.

»I never wanted to hurt you«, he whispered with one final breath and leaned back enough for him to look up at her through his dampened lashes, head still bowed and shoulders slightly hunched, almost humbly. »I know I hurt a lot of people. Some deserved it, some didn’t. But … not you, I never wanted to hurt you and I wouldn’t … I wouldn’t have forced you to – to marry me, if I’d known … I just … «

The small smile she felt stretching over her lips, felt genuine and soft. »I know, it’s okay. It’s okay, Leo. It’s all okay now.«
Something akin to a bitten-off laugh, mixed with a pained cough came out of his mouth and then there was a hand cupping her cheek. His eyes looked bluer than normal, shiny and soft, hopeful and so very vulnerable, when he looked into her eyes again.

Raisa stood still, one hand curled around his neck, the other on his heart and this moment already felt far more intimate than anything they’d ever done. When his lips met hers they were soft and warm, a little chapped but giving under hers. His thumb stroked over her cheek, tracing the corner of her mouth, and when she pressed the tips of her fingers softly into his short hair, it felt right. Good.

And she’d told him the truth.

They were okay. They were okay now.