‘And you left too?’ Gregory regarded her in all seriousness.

‘Yes, I did…’

‘Did you leave her?’

‘No! Oh, dear, no! I left her because I couldn’t stay with her at one territory. It’s very complicated. You will never understand it. Your mum always stroked your head and fussed over you while mine was always looking for imperfections in me.’

‘How do you know that my mum was as exactly the same as you told?’ Gregory smiled mysteriously and squinted. At that moment Victoria understood that she had shot off her mouth. Suddenly she became worrying and felt like a cat on hot bricks.

‘I… Just…. It seems like that.’

‘You’re right! All my life my mum got easy on me. You know how deep it was madding! But she was my mum and I couldn’t afford to be rude and insult her.’

Victoria couldn’t help smiling when she got that Gregory wasn’t a stickler for detail out of the office as she had thought before. It was pleasure and interesting to speak with him.

‘What do you mean by imperfections?’ he asked her.

‘Well… it’s a long story. You know it’s generation gap which can never be solved.’

‘Your mum pushed her weight around and you resisted?’

‘Something like that. It’s like a tug-of-war game.’

‘Where do you live, Victoria? I mean where did you go from your mum?’

‘I live with my man,’ the girl went off with relief, being happy in the depth that her answer would stop any half-formed intentions from him.

Gregory could not think of any reply to what he heard. Having heard about the man he unnoticeably smirked a little bit sadly lowered his look at the plates. Suddenly Victoria understood that the silence problem wasn’t because Gregory had nothing to say but because he was choosing what to say.

‘So, do you manage it? I mean… you work recently…’

Having frowned Vic was listening to her boss without understanding what was happening to him: always self-confident, handsome and having a respectful tone man suddenly looked like a confused school leaver.

‘What’s the matter?’ the girl said.

‘I’m sorry… A sudden headache. Oh, shit, I gotta go… I’ve got a meeting. Victoria, I gotta go. May I drive you?’

‘Thank you but it’ll be faster by the metro and I don’t want make you wait. Don’t worry, Mr. Dogmanov, and you should go, ok? You shouldn’t be late.’

‘Victoria,’ the man rose up, ‘I’ve been glad you had lunch with me. I hope we have lunch again.’

‘As you wish. It’s been really interesting to be with you today.’

‘Just today?’ he winked at her.

‘You made me free from work and yes, it’s been very interesting.’

Gregory came up to her and kindness and warmth were streaming from him that made the girl feel uncomfortable.

‘See you on Monday, Victoria. I’ve paid the bill.’

Her boss went to the exit putting on his coat. Victoria watched him leaving with mysteriously squinty eyes. Hardly had she immersed into after-lunch-thoughts as she remembered to go to Kharon.

With the smile on her lips she ran to Kuznetskiy Most metro station, looking forward to meeting.

Vic left the train and immediately, streamline with the mad crowd, headed to the centre of the station, raving about seeing the demon. She smiled wildly. Nobody was waiting for her.

Victoria convulsively looked around: there was nobody. From one hand someone pushed her, from another – she was called. The step in right and she stepped on a foot, a step in left and someone winged her with a big bag. And the gentle, warm hands covered her eyes and a perfect feeling of defence appeared behind. Nobody more could neither punch nor step on, there was only peacefulness and cosiness. There was like a glass cylinder around her like incubator, constantly protected her from external influence and impact of the environment. It was something unnatural and scaring but so close and romantic.

‘My love…’ Vic said quiet, touching his hands.

She would recognize his warmth and touches out of millions of others.

‘I wanted to surprise you.’ He answered, embracing her with his arm and still covering her eyes with the second hand. ‘You’re so penetrating. I wish you didn’t pretend to have any idea who was standing behind you.’

‘I clearly know that it’s you and no one else. I don’t want anyone else but only you.’

While Kharon was hiding all around with his hand he perfectly could feel her thoughts running through his nerve impulses, eating in his mind and his joy and complacence awaking because of the thoughts content. He almost got used to the girl’s feelings and to the fact that he was like a god for her. With each passing second, he liked it more and more.

He turned the girl to his face and kissed her lips, silently whispering about love. More captivating he liked the taste of kissing that woman.

‘People are looking at us.’ Victoria drew a little away from the squeaky man. ‘It’s not good. You do know it.’

‘I do. But I can do nothing to control myself. I can hear you what you’re thinking. I can see what your lips and body desire for. Do you really think they care about people? This is your head to care about people, but they… your lips… your fingers… your arms and the warmth between your legs none of that know what people mean. They don’t care and I agree with them…’

The demon began kissing her again with fresh fire and wild passion, embracing because of which the ground and the sky got mixed up under her feet into a hydrogenous gruel of unknown consistence. Victoria was pressed against the column. She was slowly losing her mind and morality.

‘Kharon,’ she shushed him fighting against not only him but herself and her desires.

‘I see. I see, dear. At first it was romanticism in your way, now it’s people. Do you always have anything in your way? I know that when people are ok, there’s gonna be something else in your way, isn’t it, dear?’

Kharon looked up at her gravely absolutely with no understanding why people were arranged as they were that if they had nothing in their ways to do what they want then they created some sticking points in their ways. Was it funnier? More interesting?

‘It’s not the problem…’

‘No, it is, and you know it.’ The demon interrupted her. ‘I won’t touch anymore when we’re not at home, will I? Do I understand you right?’

‘No,’ Victoria shook her head anxiously, grabbing his hand.

The demon smiled not hiding the slight mockery in his eyes.

‘No, no, no,’ the girl pressed his hand to his cheek, ‘you can’t deprive me of your arms and touches.’

‘Look, you are the person who deprives you of it by speaking about people who don’t care about our kisses. They just pass by, look at us like an attribute of the station, a piece of exposition. Do you really think these people care about you? Do they think of you? You must be kidding. Just have what you want… I’m speaking not only about hands.’

Kharon carefully not to draw attention, kissed the girl again. This time the kiss was fast, usual and bleak, deprived of passion.

She followed him, held his hand, getting through the crowd, headed to the exit.

Then they were on the moving stair. She liked so much the moments of idyll when she could enjoy them fully.

‘Why are we at Kuznetsky Most?’ Kharon asked, stroking her gentle wrist.

‘I don’t know why, I just wanted to go to a bookshop. Would you mind?’ Victoria looked at him with so much enthusiasm with kindness in the eyes and hope in her voice. She was waiting for him to answer.

‘Hum… A big book. It’s about art. Of course, what else about it could be.’

‘You’ve seen it, haven’t you?’

‘Entirely by accident.’

‘So, what do you think?’

‘How can I say no to you?’

Victoria stopped trying not to smile. The man walking near her, left her no choice. She liked all about him. He had no imperfections. No disadvantages. He was ideal.