II

When the boy came to himself he felt warm, wrapped into soft fabric, a fire crackling nearby. He didn't remember ever feeling that war before. Curiously his violet eyes opened and looked around. At once an elder lady with a grey bun and worn-out clothes ran to his side.

"Oh, love. You're awake…"

The boy opened his mouth as if to talk…but closed it again right away.

Warm blankets had been wrapped around his small, shivering body. The violet eyes refused to meet her warm, brown ones. The boy tried to take in the room, his eyes wide with childish wonder. It looked were nice to him. There was a fireplace, a shelf with many, many books and on the wall was a painting of the lady with to children at her hand. They smiled so nicely.

"Now – you look pretty starved, sweetheart." The lady crooned sweetly and the boy nodded without looking at her. "Well – we'll get some food in you. I was just making lovely koscha. What does sound like?"

The boy turned around to her and nodded eagerly. No one had ever offered him food. The thought to eat anything but scraps sounded…too tempting.

"That's great- What's you name again, love?"

The boy's eyes dropped once again, making him stare at the blanket she'd wrapped around him. It was a lovely shade of dark blue. He liked it.

"I- I don't have a name." He admitted and the lady smiled.

"What do you parents call you?"

"I don't know…any parents of mine. B-But the other people call me - Russia."

The lady didn't seem surprised – she just nodded. She must have heard stranger things before.

"But that's not a name for a little boy such as you are. I'm going to call you Ivan. Do you like the name Ivan?"

The boy seemed to think about it – then he nodded slowly.

"I like…Ivan." He decided, tasting his new name on his tongue. Then he smiled. "That's nice. I always wanted to have my own name…like all the others."

"Then I'm glad for you. My name is Katharina Braginski." She said. "Now – I will get you something to eat."

"Gospozha B-raginski?" He asked. "W-ould you allow me to…spend the night here? I…I can work, if you want to. I can clean and…"

"You can stay boy. As long as you want. Now – let me bring you some koscha, Ivan." She smiled sweetly and Ivan tried to remember this smile forever. He never knew what a smile really looked like before. People didn't smile at him. Now he knew how to smile. And if he'd smile…then people would maybe start smiling when he was around.

Ivan let his head fall back onto the cushions and his violet eyes found the fireplace. The fire that crackled in there was warm and smelled nice. He never felt so good in his whole life. He was warm. He decided he liked the warmth. He was like one of the humans. He felt like he was part of…whatever they were. And he liked it.

Above the fireplace, on the mantle, stood a small painting on a canvas…a still life with a big, yellow flower in a pot. Its blossom had warm, yellow petals around a dark core. He decided, he liked the picture.

He decided, the flower looked like the sun.

He loved the sun. The sun kept him warm.

He felt warm right now.

I'd really love feedback - especially about my langauge, because I can't really estimate my mistakes and my flaws.