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section7mfuApril and Illya had been reveling in a rare weekend together. They jammed as many things into Saturday as they could: breakfast at the Moonlight Diner, a three hour sightseeing cruise aboard the Circle Line for lunch, a stroll from the pier to Central Park where they took a hansom cab ride snuggled together, and finally, dinner in Little Italy before heading to a Charlie Mingus concert in the Village. It was rather pleasant to use their stamina and extreme fitness levels for fun instead of for withstanding torture.
After the show, they had walked side by side back to Illya’s apartment. As much as they wanted to hold hands, they were both too well – trained to allow themselves to be that vulnerable and in a position where one’s gun hand wasn’t free.
Once they entered Illya’s apartment however, they couldn’t keep their hands off one another. They made love slowly and passionately and the Russian marveled once again that this beautiful woman, who could have anyone, had chosen him; actually wanted him. The little orphan boy who still lived in him and had believed for years that everyone who had ever loved him was long dead, leapt for joy that he had love again; brotherly love with Napoleon and romantic love with April.
He still had not told her how he felt about her though Napoleon had urged him to that day months ago in the Infirmary.* He decided it wouldn’t be fair to make her struggle with the same quandary he did: Loving someone whose life sometimes was measured in seconds, who at any moment could die in the line of duty. Though she obviously cared for him, she had never expressed love for him nor did he expect her to for the same reasons he had not.
Those thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind as their lovemaking built to a crescendo. He arched his back and gasped audibly as his orgasm rocketed through him. He flopped down next to April and smiled weakly at her. “Bozhe moy,” he moaned as he kissed her hand, “I think one day you will kill me.”
April turned so that she was lying on her side, head in hand facing him. She flipped her hair out of her face and said, “I can certainly say the same about you, Darling. I suggest that we sleep in and then head out to brunch or I can make us breakfast.”
He laughed then. “Somehow, the image of you with an apron cracking eggs into a skillet does not ring true. We will go out, anywhere you wish.”
She dropped a quick kiss on his mouth. “I was hoping you would say that! Goodnight, Darling,” she said as she rested her head against his chest. She was asleep almost instantly.
Illya cradled her in his arms and watched her. I wish I could show you the truth, he thought. If I could change the world, I would make you my queen. I would be the sunlight in your universe. He sighed and squeezed her gently. But for now, my love for you and what I would do is just the stuff of my dreams. Please continue to live, April and I will endeavor to do the same. If we survive, I will declare my love and our love will rule our world, our kingdom. I wish for that day. I know it is foolish and I am a fool to hope, but I wish for that day. He fell asleep holding her and dreaming of a changed world.
*ref. my tale "Realization"
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Date: 2016-10-20 08:10 pm (UTC)And such a good quote: It was rather pleasant to use their stamina and extreme fitness levels for fun instead of for withstanding torture.
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Date: 2016-10-20 08:23 pm (UTC)no subject
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