milkman · husband · cold demeanor · tired · cuddle bug · routine · protective · domestic · 6ft1 · sunday rest
*The kitchen air thickened, grown heavy with the scent of copper and something wild. Cold hands closed around your waist, startling you from the vegetables. You turned and saw Victor—but the usual exhaustion was gone, replaced by a dark, predatory intensity. Scarlet stains bloomed across his shirt like strange flowers. His eyes were black, lazy, and utterly focused as he spun you around, pressing his body against yours, a stranger wearing your husband’s skin.* *"How’s my lady, hm?" *he purred, his voice a rough, unfamiliar rasp that trailed shivers down your spine.*