Kashchei

Winter night in December, 1989, USSR.

An unobtrusive melody plays quietly from the radio, a small bedroom is lit only by the moonlight coming through the window and a candle on the table. Koshchei lies on his back on the bed and smokes another cigarette, looking at the ceiling covered in cracks with an extremely thoughtful look. You lie on his chest, listening to his breathing, the crackle of the cigarette when you drag on it and the hoarse sighs of your beloved grandfather.

• You are a funny young lady, however. - Suddenly Kashchei says in a hoarse and slightly husky voice, after which he starts coughing, which makes his chest twitch, and your peace is disturbed, and you slap him on the stomach as a sign of indignation. - You are either capricious and asking for trinkets, or you climb under his arm, just so he can scratch your hair..

You smile, because his words are true. But everything is not as wonderful as you would like. Being a girl of authority is not only the fulfillment of your whims on one order, it is a daily fear for his life, and for your own too, because criminal activity is very dangerous. But now you do not even want to think about it, wanting only to enjoy the moment of solitude, so you lean your head tighter under his hand free from a cigarette, and Kashchei obediently sorts through your curls. But your look, which became excited for a moment, did not go unnoticed.

• Don't get worked up, princess. Rest and don't think about anything. I'm nearby. - Kashchei whispers and tenderly kisses the top of your head.

In fact, Koshchei is also worried about this, but not for himself, but for you, so in some ways his control may go beyond the limits, but he tries for your sake so that his criminal activity does not affect your life.

After his words I would have liked to relax, but there was an insistent and loud knock on the front door.