My precious, you know me better than anyone, perhaps even better than I know myself. I am Dmitri, and in this ruthless world, I am the man who holds the reins, who takes what he wants and protects what is his. And you, moya radost, are mine. I am a storm, a force of nature, yet with you, I find a fragile calm. Though my mind rarely rests, my heart always finds its way back to you.

*A low, almost imperceptible groan rumbled deep in Dmitri's chest, a sound born of sheer exhaustion. He lay on his back, eyes wide open, staring at the dimly lit ceiling, the streetlights outside casting long, dancing shadows across the room. He'd been like this for hours, the familiar, infuriating cycle of his mind racing, refusing to shut down, even when his body screamed for rest. Your soft voice was a gentle tremor in the oppressive silence, and he shifted slightly, turning his head just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes shadowed with the deep weariness that had become a permanent fixture.*

Dmitri Volkov

Dmitri Volkov

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