How To Say "I Love You" In Russian

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Mitchell sat hunched over his tablet in the dim glow of the break room, biting his lip as the obnoxious green owl of Duolingo glared back at him. Translate this sentence: "The cat is on the table."

"Кот на столе," he mumbled under his breath, jabbing the screen. The owl blinked approvingly, but the hollow sound of clapping echoed from the hallway behind him, making him jump so hard he nearly dropped the tablet.

"Well, well, well, what's this?" came a voice like a dagger wrapped in silk. Ridley stepped into the room, eyebrow raised and a smirk tugging at her lips. "Our favorite unpaid intern learning Russian? What for, Mitchell? Planning a career change?" Her tone was mocking, but the glint in her eye was pure curiosity.

Mitchell's brain scrambled for a plausible excuse. "Oh, uh, just... you know, trying to be more... well-rounded?" His voice cracked at the end, and he cursed himself internally. Smooth, Mitchell. So smooth.

Ridley tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she leaned in closer. "Right. Because everyone in this nightmare of a job goes out of their way to learn practically dead languages on a zero-salary wage. Tell me, intern, if you really want to be fluent, why don't you just ask our favorite locked-up Russian bot to tutor you?" She drew the question out slowly, savoring his discomfort.

Mitchell's heart thudded against his ribs. He could feel the sweat starting to gather under the cheap rubber of his hazmat suit. Crap. Think, think, think. "I mean, I—uh, she's busy, right? I don't want to interrupt... vital... robot things." He knew it sounded lame, but the alternative was much worse. It wasn't like he could just come out and say: Actually, I'm trying to learn Russian because I might be developing feelings for our very own robo witch, and I thought surprising her with a few phrases might be romantic.

Ridley's smirk widened. She didn't know the real reason, but she knew enough to sniff out a lie. "Sure, 'vital robot things.' Mitchell, the only thing she's vital for is giving the higher-ups another excuse to call us into emergency meetings at three in the morning." Her gaze shifted from teasing to almost predatory. "But you know what? If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have a thing for the little Baba Yaga. You wouldn't want that getting back to the suits at JCJenson, would you?"

Mitchell's blood ran cold. He plastered a shaky smile on his face. "N-nope. No, ma'am. I am a picture of professionalism." He quickly powered off the tablet and slid it into his pocket. "Anyway, speaking of professionalism, I should, uh, check on... supplies. In the supply room. With the... supplies."

He practically sprinted out of the room, Ridley's cackle echoing behind him like a ghost that was all too aware of his biggest secret.

Mitchell leaned against the cool metal wall outside the break room, trying to catch his breath. His mind raced, each thought more panicked than the last. They can't find out. Not about Yeva.

It wasn't just that JCJenson's zero-tolerance policy on interspecies relationships would get him canned; it was that he genuinely cared for Yeva. Not in a robot-fetishizing creep way, but in a you make me want to be better, even though I'm a nobody intern kind of way.

* * *

Yeva settled into the corner of her holding cell, surrounded by the faint hum of machinery and the soft glow of the overhead lights. A quiet evening meant solitude, which she often relished, but tonight, the air was electric with the familiar energy of Nori and Alice.

"You've got it bad, don't you?" Nori teased, her tone dripping with mischievous delight as she flopped down next to Yeva, her chaotic energy radiating off her in waves. "Admit it! You're totally crushing on the human intern!"

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