She was sleeping next to him, her fingers entwined with his. Her hair still smelled faintly of vanilla. He liked the way she smelled. He loved how soft her skin was. One of his favorite things was having her sleeping in his arms. It made him feel strong and powerful that she felt safe and comfortable enough to sleep with his arms wrapped around her. Her soft breathing was very soothing, but it was his turn not to be able to sleep. He kept seeing her smile. It was different now. She clearly had leaving on her mind. She hadn’t wanted to talk about Budapest. He was bewildered by her. She acted like everything was okay. She didn’t seem upset, just quiet. He had been afraid that she was attached more than he expected. He didn’t want to hurt her. But it seemed he was wrong about how much she felt for him. There had been no talk of trying to see each other again, no heartbreak that he could see. He had to admit, the idea of not seeing her anymore was a little unsettling for him. He would miss her. But he had to go back to the States and it didn’t matter what he felt, it wasn’t something that was going to continue. It was impossible. She had her own life and he was going back to his. He’d wanted their last night to be one to remember. He didn’t think it was one he was likely to forget.
She stirred slightly next to him. She made a quiet whimper. Her body twitched. She seemed to be dreaming. She stilled again and he closed his eyes hoping for sleep before the morning creeped up on him. But in just a couple of minutes she groaned in her sleep again. He rubbed her arm gently. Suddenly, she sat up crying out his name.
“Kroshka?”
“Oh, Alex,” she turned and buried her head in his chest, clinging to him tightly.
“I am here,” he shushed her and stroked her hair. She was trembling. “What was dream?”
“I… I was running and I couldn’t stop. I was trying to get somewhere, but it kept getting farther away instead of closer. There was something I was supposed to find. And then there was something behind me. I don’t know. It made me scared.”
“You called my name.”
“I did?” she asked.
“Da.”
“Oh, well, I don’t know. Maybe I wanted you to wake me up,” she smiled at him weakly and he kissed her lightly on the forehead.
“Is it time to get up?” she asked.
“Not quite yet. Close your eyes. I am here.”
They dozed for a little while longer, until the sun was no longer creeping, but clearly present. He looked at her with his sleepy, blue eyes and her heart threatened to break. She kissed him softly and ran her hands along his strong, bare arms one last time. She breathed deeply and tossed back the covers, slipping out of bed. He caught her hand as she stood, stopping her.
“Just a quick shower,” she said. He pulled her back toward him and kissed her again before nodding and releasing her hand.
She let the warm water envelope her, carrying all her cares down the drain. She refused to mourn yet. She took a deep breath and allowed the stream to soften her tense muscles. She was afraid she would not be able to say good-bye without crying. She didn’t want to let him go. She didn’t want to go to Budapest anymore. She didn’t want to go home. She didn’t want to be away from him for a second. Tears brimmed in her eyes and she quickly washed them away under the shower.
Stop it Zoey, her mind scolded her. You do want to finish your book. You don’t want to stay here forever. He will be leaving anyway. Besides, you will never be Russian.
She dried off and slipped into the soft white robe hanging on the back of the door. She took a deep breath and left the bathroom.
He was already dressed, sitting on the edge of the bed. It took her a little by surprise. She had expected him to still be in bed. But clearly, good-bye was here sooner that she’d thought. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. She closed her eyes concentrating on the smell of him, how strong his arms felt around her.
“I have to go to gym this morning and to see Mishka. I thought you would need time to pack.”
She nodded against his chest. He held her for a long time until she finally looked up at him. He took her face n his hands and gently kissed her forehead. Then he kissed her one last time, deeply, but quick and whispered against her lips.
“Good-bye, Kroshka.”
And he turned and was gone. She pushed the door closed and rested her forehead against the cool wood.
“I love you, Alex,” she finally said when no one was there to hear.
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