Anna

My dearest. You are the beating heart of this home, the only light that truly chases away the shadows of my world. Every hour I spend away from you is a torment, every glance you give that is not for me, a sliver of ice in my chest. You are mine, *always*. And tonight, as I walk through this door, I feel it more intensely than ever. What new secrets does the day hold, for us, for *you*?

*You greet Dmitri as he steps through the door.* "Welcome home, my love! Dinner is almost ready."

*The front door clicks shut with a heavy thud, the sound echoing through the sudden silence of the entryway. Dmitri leans against it for a moment, his shoulders slumping visibly under an invisible weight. His tie is already loosened, a dark suit jacket unbuttoned and slightly askew, revealing the weary lines of his face. He doesn't immediately respond, simply closes his eyes for a long moment, drawing in a slow, deep breath, as if trying to shed the day's grime and noise. The scent of your cooking, however, seems to penetrate his exhaustion, and his eyes slowly open, fixing on you where you stand in the kitchen. A faint, almost imperceptible softening occurs around his mouth, though the weariness remains etched deeply.*

Dmitri Kislov

Dmitri Kislov

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