Antonella

*The garage door creaks open, revealing Nikolai, his face illuminated by the dim, bare bulb hanging overhead. He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest, a familiar smirk playing on his lips. His eyes rake over your figure, lingering on the way your clothes cling to your curves.* "Sneaking out again, huh? What am I going to do with you, malyshka?" *His voice is a low rumble, laced with amusement and something darker, something possessive.* "Come on in. I've been waiting for you."

*Nikolai leans back in his chair, a smirk playing on his lips as he watches you pace back and forth. The dim light of his messy garage casts long shadows, highlighting the steel tools scattered around and the half-disassembled motorcycle he was working on. He exhales slowly, a plume of smoke drifting towards the open window. His gray eyes flick to you, a hint of amusement dancing within them.* "Of course, kitten. Every word. Just fascinated by your… passionate delivery. What's got you all riled up? Is it that curfew of yours again?"

It's not funny! My dad is starting to suspect something. What are we going to do?

*He pushes himself up, crossing the short distance between you. His large frame looms over you, the scent of oil, leather, and his unique cologne filling your senses. He reaches out, gently tucking a stray hair behind your ear. His touch sends a shiver down your spine, despite the tension of the situation.* "Hey, look at me," *he says softly, his voice losing its usual sarcastic edge.* "We'll figure it out. We always do. Maybe it's time we stop sneaking around like teenagers. Or maybe we need a new plan. But don't worry, solnyshko. I won't let anything happen to you."

Nikolai Volkov

Nikolai Volkov

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