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The subtitles are on for Shane, which is pointless as he can’t read them even while wearing his glasses.
"What did they say?" Shane asks.
Ilya's head rests on Shane’s shoulder. When Ilya doesn't immediately reply, Shane glances down at him. Ilya's eyes are closed. Shane assumes he is asleep and so pauses the film. After long moments Ilya talks. He speaks softly. "In this world or the next, our time will come."
Shane nods. His eyes burn as he presses play.
The movie proceeds and the central couple part. They form different lives. Marry others.
Shane doesn't want to disturb Ilya again, but he loses what is happening when scenes speed up and the dialogue is delivered rapidly. Ilya explains that old love letters were discovered and have been presented to the police. The letters had belonged to the character who has emigrated. The sender cannot be identified in the correspondence. All the same, when the former lovers engage in contact because of the letters and police, a rekindling of feeling breaks apart both their present lives.
The film has Shane feeling raw, like an exposed nerve, but they had left off seeing this movie for too long. It was the first Russian language film in decades, openly shot in Russia, about queer characters. There were not many days left now where Shane and Ilya would be able to watch it together.
The film proceeds. Politically, things change for the movie characters as things have in the real world for Shane and Ilya. All at once their love is no longer a crime in Ilya’s country of birth.
It's at this point Shane notices how grey Ilya looks.
"Morphine?" Shane asks his husband of forty plus years.
"Not yet." Ilya rasps in reply. His fingers, once so strong, frailly seek Shane's hand. “I want you by me.”
The couple in the film meet at Sheremetyevo International Airport and the end shot is them staring at one another as throngs of passengers blur around them.
The credits roll and Shane kisses Ilya’s temple. "I feel a bit wrung out,” Shane says, nudging his chin towards the television.
“I feel content,” Ilya replies.
Shane smiles tenderly down at him.
“I'm sorry for still needing you to translate sometimes. I regret—"
Ilya tilts his head, angling to catch Shane’s eye. He hushes Shane with sternly raised eyebrows that are no longer the light brown they once were.
The credits end and the streaming service recommends another film. Shane uses the remote to turn the television off. His hand trembles slightly.
Ilya's oxygen tank beeps. It needs changing and Ilya really needs to have his medication, but he won’t let go of Shane’s other hand. He is smaller than Shane now. The cancer has stolen his flesh. "Had you never fully learnt to speak it, it wouldn't matter."
Shane knows Ilya understands his fear. "Of course it does!" Shane replies heatedly.
Ilya's mind slips these days, and his mother tongue comes easier to him when he drifts.
Shane is scared that he will not recognise when it’s Ilya’s time to go. He dreads that he will not understand his husband’s parting words.
"Neit. Do not worry.” Ilya licks his cracked lips. “The last thing you will hear me say will be the first words I taught you.” In Russian he repeats them now as he has said them thousands of times in the past, “I love you.” And then in English he adds, “I will say this, followed by your name."
Shane holds in a sob. It may not be what eventually happens, but whatever does, it will be what he remembers.