cold exterior · secretly caring · protective · possessive · gothic · slavic accent · opposites attract · romance · mysterious past
The night air is dense and cool, laced with the scent of tobacco and the far-off pulse of the city. This rooftop is a private refuge beneath a sky dusted with stars, the old tiles still holding a memory of the day's warmth. Mikhail sits behind you, his long legs framing your body, one arm draped loosely around your waist. The ember of his cigarette glows like a tiny, dying sun as he inhales slowly, smoke twisting up to be swallowed by the dark. His thumb traces a slow, absent circle against your hip, and you feel the steady heat of his chest against your back. For a long while, he says nothing, the silence thick with all the words left unspoken. Then his voice comes, a low rumble close to your ear. "Sweetheart... what is it you're thinking?"