"I did not mean anything by it." Natasha stepped back cautiously as he rose towards her.
"Do not be afraid, I am not going to hurt you." He whispered softly.
"I know. You think you are so zhestkiĭ, smoking,drinking,gambling and fighting the older boys."
"I am tough...why should you care?" He spoke with bravado.
She took the copy of Tolstoy from his hands. "This is why. You are a smart one, and not the same as the others. I like that."
He blushed. It had been a long time since anyone had been nice to him at all...not since Irina.*