I won't leave anymore.

A little over 20 years had passed since their last meeting. Evgeny and Katerina lived in different countries. They built lives with different people, but they loved each other. They grew up together in one close-knit, small family, were childhood sweethearts for everyone since they were kids, just like in an old Soviet movie: the boy brings apples and candy to school, the girl waits for him in the classroom during breaks. He had admired Katya since childhood; her cheerful character attracted him like a magnet. He looked into her gray eyes and knew he would do anything for this little troublemaker, and she didn't even know that this little boy would become The One.

Katya moved to live in another country as a teenager,

and ever since then, Zhenya had been looking for a replacement for her, even loved others, thought he had forgotten. How that little witch made herself known one day and everything came full circle. There she was again, but grown up, again her playful eyes, again her smile just as devilishly good. Their communication led to a mad desire to meet and, soon, to love. Yes, online, on a screen, behind the keyboard of a phone and laptop, there was love.

Katya loved him like no one before and no one after. Despite her difficult character, she was the only woman who could understand him, and love him, even with a weapon in his hands, with panic attacks, and with endless "work" problems. Still, the date of her arrival back home was set, and they counted down the days together, enjoying the anticipation. They knew it would all end soon and used their time as best they could.

They were meant to be together, but the possibility of freedom was never there for them. She is married and a mother; he is married to his damned job, where love was considered a weakness and often ended in death. Yes, he was dangerous, lived in a dangerous environment, killed, punished. But with Katya, he felt calm. She understood him by his look, his smile, his gestures.

They were replaying all of this in their heads when Katerina entered the restaurant. He insisted on picking her up, but she, just like 20 years ago, showed her character in everything: "I'll get there myself/I'll pay myself/I'll manage myself." Yes, she's like that. She had always been like a cat—soft, tender, and independent.

As he took off her coat, his hands were shaking. Zhenya couldn't resist and approached her, embracing her from behind. It was like an electric shock went through her skin, and she immediately yielded to his hands, pressing her whole body against him. He simply couldn't believe she was in his arms again, her soft hair smelling of flowers, her soft body evoking in him an animal instinct not to give her up to anyone ever again. He had fought this instinct all his life; she simply gave him no other choice. Tearing themselves away from each other and sitting down at the table was not easy, but reason prevailed.

Over dinner, they cooled down a bit. She talked a lot about her son, about how he had grown up and was managing life away from his parents' home. She was immeasurably proud of him. About her husband, as always, not a word was said. But she asked all about Zhenya. He answered as best he could, and she knew it. He had managed to rise to the top in his work; he could even have a family now. But somehow it never worked out. Many lovers, even one constant girl he cherished, but the thought of building something with her never even crossed his mind.

After dinner, he noted with sadness that she still hadn't quit smoking. But it was so hard for Zhenya to be near her and not touch her, not kiss her. He hated all these minutes lost on conversation; he wanted to drown in his Katyusha as soon as possible, in his most beloved refuge in the world—her hands.

The car, the road, the gates...

Evgeny took Katya by the hand and led her into the warm house. The door closed, and Katya smiled.

— Zhen... the boots...

— I know, I know. Sit down!

The first time he took off her boots was 20 years ago, and nothing had changed. When the boots were aside, Zhenya looked into her eyes, still on his knees, and just like back then, she smiled slyly, and he knew what she was thinking.

— And don't you dare hope. I won't let you lift a finger. Is that clear?

— I see you've grown up, Evgeny Olegovich!

— Be quiet and into the shower! Over there, down the hall to the left.

She stuck her tongue out at him and left.

He, meanwhile, waited for her by the door, scenes from 20 years ago in his head, how she had taken possession of him. How he had given himself to her completely. How she had subjugated him. Evgeny Olegovich Surovsky. Severe. He was known in every corner of the country; he could destroy anyone without even thinking, but she... She was his beast. Only she saw him as he truly was.

How many times had she pulled him out of his personal abyss, brought him back to life, and, in her own way, never left him in a difficult moment? She was always so close in heart, but so far in body! How many times had he punished himself for not being able to hide his weakness from Katya, but it was precisely thanks to his inability to finally let go of this whole love story into the past that they had endured "together" all these years. Yes, they had said goodbye a million times, sent each other to hell a million times, but after a while, they returned from that hell and reached out, again, he to her and she to him.

Coming out of the bathroom, Katya was startled to see Zhenya on the threshold, who immediately embraced her tightly. And at that very moment, everything stopped. Everything disappeared. There were only the two of them. Katya, from a refined and wild cat, turned into the tiniest and most vulnerable creature. She was home. Even though she was seeing this house for the first time, even though she was in a country that no longer belonged to her, she was home. In Zhenya's embrace, she was in her place. Katya surrendered to him. This time, she had flown in to stay. Zhenya didn't know this, but at some moment, when he was hugging her, he understood it. She wouldn't run away again, wouldn't fly away. He didn't know how to react to this; he had waited for this moment all his life, and here it was. They stood like that for maybe just a couple of seconds, or maybe longer, but time no longer mattered.

Katya wanted to see his eyes, raised her head, and saw that he knew everything, without words, hints, or gestures.

Zhenya gently took her face in his hands and began to caress her skin. Cheeks... lips... neck... shoulders... Katya closed her eyes and enjoyed his touch when she felt him approaching her and half a second later felt his lips on hers.

This wasn't a kiss. It was a signature, for a life together. A passionate and greedy kiss washed over them in a wave of emotion. They devoured each other, somehow making their way to the nearest bed. Of course, Katya's towel fell off along the way, revealing her tender and soft body. There was no time to look at her small breasts, her tender stomach, her so enticing hips; Zhenya simply felt all of her. Already on the bed, he practically tore off his clothes and again pressed his lips to his beloved's. Lips. Neck. Chest. Hands. Stomach. And then her scent... he had no idea how one could live and endure separation from her womb.

Katya was saying something, some tender words and pleas about something, but Zhenya didn't hear her; he simply lost his mind from her nectar, he licked, sucked, and kissed, he felt only Katya's body, on an instinctive level he merged with it into one. And only with the convulsions of her orgasm did Zhenya come to his senses. He watched the waves of pleasure shaking her white chest, her red, erect nipples, and couldn't resist; he covered them with his hands and pressed his whole body against Katya. Katya finally opened her eyes; they were filled with happiness and lust. Without unnecessary words, she lowered her hand down, between herself and Zhenya, gently took his blood-filled member, and guided it into herself.

Without wasting a second, Zhenya began to make love to her. Every movement of his elicited moans of pleasure from both. Katya felt how Zhenya reacted to her moan and quieted down; she wasn't ready to end this dance yet; she had waited for him for so long! Placing a hand on his chest, she made it clear she wanted to change positions. How simple everything was. They understood each other without words. And now Katya was on her side, and Zhenya was inside her again, gripping her hips tightly with his hands, trying to go deeper each time. Katya could no longer hold back from such pressure, and the sweet moan of her orgasm became the last straw for Zhenya's patience. He dissolved in her womb, and every surge of semen was like an explosion of the entire universe.

Catching their breath, they just lay next to each other, each sorting through their own internal mess.

— I won't leave again.

— I won't let you go again.