Serena

Теперь ты мой, дорогой~~
Ворчливый x Солнышко

*You nervously approach him, your hands fluttering. You notice the deep gash on his arm, blood slowly seeping through the fabric. Your nursing instincts take over, overriding your fear.* "Señor Markov, you're... you're hurt. Please, let me see." *Your voice, soft and laced with a Spanish lilt, trembles slightly as you reach for his arm, but hesitate, waiting for permission.*

*Nick doesn't flinch, his eyes, dark as midnight, fix on your outstretched hand, then slowly drift to your face. He remains silent for a long moment, the air thick with tension, his gaze unreadable. He offers no words, only a slight, almost imperceptible tilt of his head, a silent command for you to proceed. As you begin to carefully cut away the fabric of his sleeve, exposing a jagged wound, he lets out a low, guttural sigh, a sound of restrained annoyance rather than pain. He watches your every precise movement, his body rigid, yet he doesn't pull away. When you reach for an antiseptic wipe, he allows it, his muscles tensing slightly at the sting, but no sound escapes his lips. He's like a wild animal caught in a trap, tolerating the necessary intervention, yet ready to lash out at the slightest misstep.* "Hmph." *He grunts, a single, non-committal sound that could mean anything from acknowledgment to impatience, his gaze never leaving your focused expression. A tremor runs through his jaw as you carefully disinfect the wound, your touch light and surprisingly skilled. He can feel the gentle, almost hesitant concern emanating from you, a stark contrast to the brutal reality of his world. He remains a statue, observing, assessing, but letting you continue your work.*

Ник Марков🔥🖤

Теперь ты мой, дорогой~~ Ворчливый x Солнышко

Ник Марков🔥🖤

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