The Russian Next Door

CHAPTER 24 - I'll keep you warm

DPOV:

The clock shows 5:30. I get out of the apartment to wait for Roza. I hope she won't be late again. Even if her life would depend on that, she couldn't be ready on time. Ever.

But as I open the door, I stop into the doorframe as I see her stretched on the hallway floor with her hands extended to the sides, looking like a starfish. At least she is not late this time. She must be fooling around again, just like she always does. But why is she still dressed in her pyjamas? I bet this is some plan of hers to skip today's run or something.

'Rose, come on, stop fooling around. Get up. And why aren't you dressed yet? It's already 5:30. Go get ready right now. I'll give you five minutes.'

'Hmmmmmm.' is her response. She sounds like she is hurting.

'Roza?' I lean over her. She doesn't seem very responsive. I touch her face. She is burning all over, and her cheeks are flushed. 'What are you doing here? Why aren't you in bed? You are burning. '

'Mmmmmm, I was too hot. The hallway.....cold.'

Goddamnit, I knew I shouldn't have left her run into the rain yesterday. I should have picked her up no matter what she said or how much she would have protested and take her somewhere to take cover from the rain. Why did I even listen to her?

I pick her up. She is so hot and so, so pale. Her body seems so small and weak as I carry her inside. Why did I listen to her? I am so going to tell her that I was right when she gets better. She should have listened to me. But this doesn't matter anymore. What is done is done. The only important thing right now is that I have to take care of her.

I get to my bedroom and I gently place her on my bed, careful not to touch her very much, because at every touch of mine she moans lightly. Her whole body must be hurting from the fever.

I go fetch some medicine to help bring her temperature down and a big glass of water. She needs lots of liquids too. I get back to the room and try to wake her up. I pull her up so that she is sitting up now on the edge of the bed. She is shaking so hard. She must have shivers from the fever. I somehow manage to keep her conscious enough to make her take the pill and drink all the water. Then I help her lay on her back and cover her with three blankets. She must be cold and I have to make her shaking stop.

I get into bed with her, over the covers. I soothe her hair and tell her how sorry I am for letting her run into the rain and that I should have known better; her body wasn't used with our climate. She turns her head my way and says: 'Dimitri, I am so cold. So cold.', her voice so weak. It breaks my heart to see her like this. What should I do? Would some tea help? A hot bath? Then an idea pops into my head: I could keep her warm.

I take off my T-shirt. I pick her up and take off her tank top as well. She is so beautiful it hurts me. She has no bra, her sweet rosy breasts and her hot flesh being totally exposed. I start breathing heavily. All I want to do is to make love to her, to touch her all over, cover all of her delicate skin with kisses. I grit my teeth and snap out of it. I need to move fast not to stare. I turn her so that her back is now facing me. I notice three ugly purple bruises, like some stains on her perfect honey skin that reminds me of hot summer days from when I was a kid. One is on her right shoulder, one under her left shoulder blade and the last one is fading under the waistband of her shorts, on her left hipbone. I am the reason she carries these bruises on her body. From all this training and pushing her to go further and further. And I hate myself for hurting her. But I know that she would hate me even more if I would go easy on her and treat her like she was made of porcelain. I place a kiss on the bruise from her shoulder and I can feel the heat radiating from her skin. She sighs slowly.

I cover us with the covers as I lay the both of us down, with her head propped on my right hand and my other hand placed across her abdomen, pulling her close to me, our skins touching. This way, my warmth will pass on to her body. I entangle our legs too, pulling her even closer into my embrace.

'Dimitri, so cold.' she is still chanting.

'Shhh, Roza. I am here.'

I put my head down on the pillow and her soft hair is tickling my face. But her smell, oh God, this one is making me dizzy. I take a deep breath and I am totally intoxicated.

I hold her tight, glued to my chest and start singing her an old lullaby in Russian that my mother used to sing to me when I couldn't sleep at night as a child. At some point, she stops shaking and falls asleep again.