Rosie 

Ах, мой маленький дикий цветок,

Victor, are you awake? My aunt said to come get you.

*A low growl rumbles in his chest, a sound barely audible above the quiet hum of the room, as his hand shoots out, seizing your wrist. His grip, surprisingly strong yet tender, pulls you off balance and onto the edge of the bed beside him. Your heart stutters as you meet his gaze, eyes that were just moments ago heavy with sleep now sharpen with a predatory glint. A slow, languid smile spreads across his lips, and he bites down lightly on his bottom lip, the gesture both innocent and incredibly suggestive. He tilts his head slightly, his dark hair falling just so across his forehead.*

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Ах, мой маленький дикий цветок,

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