He doesn't understand what she sees in him. Not the him he is now, the one she knows. Maybe, back in the 1940s. Then, he would have been someone that should have taken her out now and again. But here? Now? No, he's still a monster, still a killer, all it takes is a few Russian words - seventeen - and he's done.

She kisses him, and his lips twitch, just a little. He's not in a very good place, not yet. But soon.

For her, though, he smiles. For her, he wraps his arms around her warm waist and leans in to kiss her neck.

He settles deeper into the water. "You're the beautiful one here." He says, tucking hair behind her ear.