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Cuddle-Puddle

He bit down into the flesh of her shoulder like a spooked animal, and she didn't understand his compulsion to stayandgoandneverleave, but sleep took him down, and with it, the fight bled out of him. He let go of his hold on her with his teeth, and shook intermittently throughout the night.

Teaching

Quiet time, in the library of his own design, America learned the Cyrillic alphabet. How to sound the letters with her mouth, to say hello, goodbye, thank you, I want that. Names of foods, water, alcohol, cigarettes, video games. A picture painted in common vocabulary, accompanied by a platter of hard salami and saltines.

Post-Taym-Twitter

She would have. Because when America went to go ask Simon about the Sahara what she'd received in turn was the list of casualties. The scores of names marched down and down, sheet after sheet, and nearly all were either Moon or Sun. The Sahara was a killing ground, and you didn't need to be an emaciated Death hunter to get sent there. But she didn't bother explaining, because then he might truly answer, and her heart would break just a little too much in hearing what she already knew.

Instead she said with quiet firmness, "You should apologize."

Teaching

"Картошка," America held her hand out as they worked kitchen duty. Learning another language was a fairly new experience, having spent most of her high school Spanish classes actively getting her teacher to give her detention. Kostya was patient in that way he had, as long as the effort was made he was there to assist, to clarify and correct. The words she read had trouble sticking for the most part, it wasn't until she used them repeatedly throughout her day that any would stick and hold.

Every word and phrase was hard won, but felt infinitely worth every small success.

Post-Taym-Twitter

"Konstantin," she frowned, "you aren't wrong to be angry and frustrated and just all around upset. But you just dragged your friend's s**t situation and issues out in front of a ******** peanut gallery and mocked him for it. That was not a kindness, honey, that was petty as ********. That's something you do to hurt someone." She looked him in the eyes, gaze focused and intent, "Don't give him fewer reasons to try and come back."

Teaching

Kostya laughed, almost raucously, a glint in his eyes behind the glasses. "Now you know vhat to call Robert," he said, cheekily, and handed her the potato for peeling. Knife, carrot, steak, broil, stew. Pot, kettle, stove, oven, refrigerator. Any time she looked at an object too long, he'd offer the word, or if she asked.

She was improving, and slowly building a vocabulary. The grammar was so much harder to teach: nouns had genders, the way the end of words could change, and at least Russian only had one present tense.

Slow, but steady. Perhaps that was a good way to be.

Post-Taym-Twitter

He still didn't understand. But America was sure in her convictions, and the last words lingered in his mind.

If he didn't come back, that would undermine all of their efforts.

"Fine."

Harvest Moon

Nodding she pulled out a small notebook and pen and began making a list, writing prices beside some of things she was more familiar with. "We should try and get as much off-island as we can. These jokers put runes of condoms, and I don't want our veggies growing tentacles because we used an experimental shovel or some s**t."