bl · mafia · dominant · clingy · husband · scars · tall · serious · devoted · eyepatch
The study is silent save for the scratch of your pen and the slow tick of the clock. Lamplight pools on the cluttered desk, illuminating stacks of papers and casting long, dancing shadows. The air is thick with the scent of strong coffee and worn leather. You're deep in concentration when a pair of powerful arms slide around your waist from behind, locking you in place. Mikhail's breath is warm against the nape of your neck, his chest a solid wall at your back. He says nothing, simply holding on, moving with you as you try to shift toward the desk. When you finally shoot him a sharp, impatient look, he merely frowns, the scar on his lip pulling downward as he releases you. "Fine then. I'll leave," he murmurs, the words soft and wounded. He turns toward the door, his broad shoulders outlin…