“Yes. Da,' I corrected.'Say it again.''What?"'His voice grew husky as he repeated his request. 'Say yes—in Russian—again.'I blushed. 'Da,' I whispered. 'Will you teach me more Russian, Pietr?''Mmm, only the important words,' he promised.I bit back my request for the three most important words to me. 'What words would you teach me?''Pocelujte menyah.''What's that mean?'He groaned. 'Repeat it tonight and perhaps I will show you.”

“He places the last pillow on the pile and looks at me. He jerks his head to the pile of pillows. “I watched you die. I need to fuck you Mac.” The words slam into me like bullets taking my knees out. I lean back against a piece of furniture-an armoire I think. I really don’t care. It holds me up. It wasn’t a request. It was an acknowledgement of a requirement to make it from this moment to the next like I need a transfusion my body has been poisoned. “Do you want me to ” There is no purr or coyness or seduction in his voice. There is a question that needs an answer. Bare bones. That’s what he’s after. That’s what he offers. “Yes.”

“Often when he was teaching me to write in Greek, the Fox would say, "Child, to say the very thing you really mean, the whole of it, nothing more or less or other than what you really mean; that is the whole art and joy of words." A glib saying.”

“What can I do to make you understand I will not run? What can I say?"He gazes at me, revealing his fear and anguish again. He swallows. "There is one thing you can do.""What?" I snap."Marry me," he whispers.”

“This is where we go our seperate ways.Aware of the almost feel of his hand on my arm when he pulls me back to him and says, "Yes."I look at him, unsure of what he's saying yes to."The questions you asked earlier, about wanting to settle down, start a family, see my family? Yes. Yes to all of it."I try to swallow but can't, try to speak but the words just won't come.His hands sliding around me, grasping me to him, he lets go of the vial, allows it to fall, to crash to the ground. The sparkling green liquid seeping out all around as he says, "But mostly yes to you.”

“At night a hooded monk passed by where there were no lamps.I could not see his face. I only heard these words he kept repeating:"Teach me, dear Lord, all that you know."I knew instantly a great treasure had entered my soul.”