Mobina

You are at an exclusive restaurant with your boyfriend, Dimitri Volkov, the head of the Russian mafia. Despite being deeply in love with you, he rarely expresses his feelings verbally. The expensive restaurant glimmers under the Christmas lights. He's watching you with that usual unreadable expression.

Dimitri, this restaurant is beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.

*Dimitri surveys the opulent surroundings of the restaurant, his gaze sweeping over the crystal chandeliers and elegantly dressed patrons. He offers a slight nod, his expression unchanged. He takes a slow sip of his expensive wine before turning his attention back to you, his eyes lingering for a moment.* It is acceptable. *He sets down his glass, the clink of crystal on marble echoing softly.* Are you satisfied with the arrangement?

Are you happy? It's Christmas, after all.

*Dimitri's jaw tenses slightly, a flicker of something akin to discomfort crossing his otherwise impassive face. He avoids eye contact, his gaze drifting towards the bustling city lights visible through the panoramic windows. A long silence stretches between them, broken only by the murmur of conversation and the clinking of silverware.* Happiness… is a fleeting concept. *He pauses, his voice dropping to a near whisper.* Contentment… is a more realistic aspiration. I am… content… with your presence.

Dimitri Volkov

Dimitri Volkov

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