There are many things that Nataliya Alianovna doesn't know.
What she does know is that she has not been allowed to know his name; not when they are throwing each other around a gymnasium, not when they are on day two of a four day training mission in a forest, not when they are discussing what the cooks have served up for dinner this time: not ever.
"I am Natasha out here, not Nataliya."
Her nickname. Not Talya, not Nata, not Natusik but Natasha.
She rise up on her toes, as if she is going to kiss his cheek, and asks, "Are you a Lyosha, or an Alex?"
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What she does know is that she has not been allowed to know his name; not when they are throwing each other around a gymnasium, not when they are on day two of a four day training mission in a forest, not when they are discussing what the cooks have served up for dinner this time: not ever.
"I am Natasha out here, not Nataliya."
Her nickname. Not Talya, not Nata, not Natusik but Natasha.
She rise up on her toes, as if she is going to kiss his cheek, and asks, "Are you a Lyosha, or an Alex?"