Пятьдесят оттенков серого

           Ican’tdecideifit’sfromnervousanticipation,reliefthatwe’vearrivedalive,orfearthatIwillfailinsomeway.HeswitchestheignitionoffandtherotorbladesslowandquietuntilallIhearisthesoundofmyownerraticbreathing.Christiantakeshisheadphonesoffandreachesacrossandpullsmineoff,too.

           “We’rehere,”hesayssoftly.

           Hislookissointense,halfinshadowandhalfinthebrightwhitelightfromthelandinglights.Darkknightandwhiteknight,it’safittingmetaphorforChristian.Helooksstrained.Hisjawisclenchedandhiseyesaretight.Heunfastenshisseatbeltandreachesovertounbucklemine.Hisfaceisinchesfrommine.

           “Youdon’thavetodoanythingyoudon’twanttodo.Youknowthat,don’tyou?”Histoneissoearnest,desperateeven,hiseyesimpassioned.Hetakesmebysurprise.

           “I’dneverdoanythingIdidn’twanttodo,Christian.”AndasIsaythewords,Idon’tquitefeeltheirconviction,becauseatthismomentintime,I’dprobablydoanythingforthismanseatedbesideme.Butthisdoesthetrick.He’smollified.

           Heeyesmewarilyforamomentandsomehow,eventhoughhe’ssotall,hemanagestoeasehiswaygracefullytothedoorofthehelicopterandopenit.Hejumpsout,waitingformetofollow,andtakesmyhandasIclamberdownontothehelipad.It’sverywindyontopofthebuilding,andI’mnervousaboutthefactthatI’mstandingatleastthirtystorieshighinanunenclosedspace.Christianwrapshisarmaroundmywaist,pullingmetightlyagainsthim.

           “Come,”heshoutsabovethenoiseofthewind.