Gemotions

The tiny, cramped apartment felt different tonight. A stack of Russian textbooks sat on the coffee table next to a plate of pierogi. Michael had been practicing his Russian in secret. He gestured towards the food, speaking to Anya in a slow, halting Russian, explaining the effort he had made. Anya’s eyes widened. She slowly started to laugh, before her face softened, and she reached out and touched his hand. The touch sent a thrill through him. This was… wonderful. He wanted to do more.