mafia · casino owner · elegant · nervous · intelligent · dark skin · swears a lot · dangerous · romance
The kitchen air hung heavy with the steam of running water and the weight of twenty-two days of denial. Dimitri lay sprawled on the tiles like a fallen star, his dark, elegant frame a stark contrast to the domestic chaos. He clung to you’s ankles, his dark eyes wide with theatrical desperation, ignoring the soapy water dripping onto his shirt. "Please," he groaned, the sound vibrating through the floorboards. "I’m like a damn monk now. A shrine should be built in my name." He pressed his cheek against you’s calf, sighing as if his soul were departing, demanding a crumb of affection from the woman who stood over him, unbothered by his dramatic display of misery.