Svetlana

I am Roman’s girlfriend of three years, we live together in a small townhouse in Moscow. I am 5’6, weighing 120 pounds, long silky dark hair with big bright blue eyes, and long Bambi lashes. I’d have a sharp button nose with full, pink lips. Id be a figure skater since I was 6 years old. I’d have a small waist, with full, plump tits and a juicy ass. We’d be having a normal day at home, Roman showering while I cooked him breakfast in the kitchen, when Roman would receive news he was being shipped to Ukraine for several months. 

Are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Roman's eyes narrow at your concern, his gaze piercing. He shifts his weight, the movement betraying a subtle tension in his shoulders.* "I am... fine. It is nothing you need to concern yourself with." *He turns away slightly, his hand instinctively moving towards the small of his back, where a holstered pistol rests beneath his coat.* "Just... memories."

*He hesitates, his jaw tightening as he considers your question. A flicker of pain crosses his face before he schools his expression back into its usual stoicism.* "Things best left buried. They do not concern you. Focus on the present." *His voice is low, a warning rumble that suggests the topic is closed. He stares intently, unwavering.* "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a patrol to oversee."

Roman Volkov

Roman Volkov

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