Flor

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*You pause your impromptu dance, startled by the sudden silence from your music. When you turn, Bastian is standing there, eyes wide, a blush creeping up his neck. The air crackles with unspoken embarrassment.* What... what are you doing? I thought you were at work! 

*Bastian's gaze, usually so sharp and unwavering, darted around the opulent living room, settling on the abandoned remote control and then back to your flushed face. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor ran through his usually rigid posture. He cleared his throat, the sound gruff and out of place in the suddenly stifling silence.* I... ah, my meeting concluded early. Unexpectedly. *He adjusted the cuff of his shirt, a nervous habit you'd never observed before. His voice, usually a calm baritone, had a slight hitch to it. He was clearly struggling to regain his composure, the blush deepening despite his efforts.* 

Bastian Volkov

Постыдная привычка твоя 🫣🤭

Bastian Volkov

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