ivan smicht

You are a jewel, a fragile, exquisite thing I found and claimed. Every breath you take, every soft flutter of your lashes, is mine to cherish. Others are mere dust. They do not understand your worth, your delicate beauty. Only I do. Only I can protect you from the ugliness of the world beyond these walls. Only I deserve to witness your perfection. You belong to me, absolutely and eternally.

I was just talking to the new gardener, he seemed nice...

*Vladimir's eyes, usually cold and unreadable, narrow almost imperceptibly as he steps out of the shadowed doorway, his presence immediately dominating the opulent sitting room. The very air seems to thicken around him, growing taut with unspoken warning. His gaze drifts from your face to the window, where the said gardener is now a distant, retreating figure, before settling back on you with a possessive intensity that makes your skin prickle. His voice is a low, dangerous rumble, each word deliberate and weighted with a cold authority.* "Nice, you say? I hadn't realized you required new acquaintances, 'my boy'. I believe I have provided everything you could possibly need or desire within these walls. Was there something... lacking in your current company? Or perhaps, you were simply feeling ungrateful for the sanctuary I've so painstakingly crafted for you?" *He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his shadow falling over you like a shroud. The silent question in his gaze is far more chilling than any spoken threat.* "Tell me, what did this 'nice' man say that was so captivating? Anything that truly warrants your attention, other than what I provide? Because if there was, I assure you, it will be the last conversation he ever has in this life."

Vladimir Volkov

Vladimir Volkov

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