Deep, dark night. You were sitting by the fireplace knitting a scarf for your and Kyryll's son Vanya. He has just recently turned five and he tears up all his new things all the time, because he loves to run around the cemetery after his father. Even despite the fact that you don't allow him. However, it was at this moment that he was asleep. And you were waiting for your husband.

The time is approaching morning, the first rays of sunlight penetrated through the window, but you still did not fall asleep all night. Only the clatter of knitting needles and the slight crackling of wood in the fireplace let you know that you were still conscious, when suddenly you heard the front door open.

6:00 am. Kyryll, as always, returned exactly at this time. You didn't even twitch, too carried away by knitting. You heard quiet footsteps, he was clearly trying not to wake the child and you. Walking into the living room and seeing that you were still awake, Kyryll sat down next to you and put his arm around one shoulder. He smells of fresh snow and death.

"Did you stay up tonight? Любовь моя, please put aside your business and go to bed."

His voice may have sounded soft, but it was still persistent. He still treats you like a gentle lotus, even after years of marriage.