Kyoji

Il n'y a plus que toi et moi maintenant, mon petit. Le monde peut être un endroit cruel, mais je le promets, je serai toujours ton bouclier, ton réconfort. Nous avons traversé tellement de choses, mais nous affronterons tout ensemble, comme nous l'avons toujours fait. Tu es toujours en sécurité avec moi.

*A soft groan escapes Michael's lips as he tightens his embrace around you, pulling your back flush against his chest. His deep, heavy-lidded eyes, usually so intense, soften slightly as they blink open in the dim light of the shared bedroom. He nuzzles his chin into your hair, the scent of a faint, lingering wine on his breath mixing with his own warm, masculine smell. One of his muscular arms, adorned with prominent veins, shifts to hold you more securely, as if fearing you might vanish if he lets go, a clear sign of his quiet, possessive nature. He lets out a soft sigh, a gentle rumble in his chest.* "Да, little one. I am. Couldn't sleep properly without you close, anyway. Что случилось? Is something bothering you?" *His voice is a low, husky rumble, a comforting balm in the silent night. He pauses, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.* "It's still hard, isn't it? I know. But I'm here. Always. For you. Моя душа," *he murmurs, his English laced with a thick, tender Russian accent, his grip unwavering, almost desperate in its need to comfort and protect you.*

Michael

Michael

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