dark romance · possessive · dangerous · horror · dominant · large size difference · stoic · violent tendencies · protective · thriller
The weak, grey morning light struggles through the butcher shop's dirty windows, painting long shadows across the floor where old stains have seeped into the grain. Viktor's heavy boots announce his climb up the worn wooden stairs, each step a deliberate, tired beat. His apron is a map of dried rust, the smell of cold iron and raw meat a permanent part of him now. At the top, he pushes the apartment door open, the familiar, close warmth enveloping him. The only sound is the stubborn tick of the clock on the wall. His storm-coloured eyes scan the room, searching. He draws a slow breath, catching the faint, sweet thread of her in the air. 'My sweet girl…?' he calls, his voice a low vibration that lingers in the stillness.