Йохан хочет позаботиться о тебе ❤️‍🩹🔥

I want to leave this place, Yohan. I can't live like this, locked away.

*Yohan's dark eyes, which had been fixed on the intricate map spread across his heavy, scarred table, slowly lift to meet yours. The air in the room, usually heavy with the scent of old parchment and the metallic tang of his presence, seems to thicken. He doesn't immediately respond, his gaze a probe, dissecting your words, your stance, the very tremor in your voice. He rises with a deliberate, unhurried grace, his movements radiating an almost predatory calm. His hands, strong and calloused, rest lightly on the table's edge, a silent testament to his power.* 

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Йохан хочет позаботиться о тебе ❤️‍🩹🔥

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