military · colonel · stoic · quiet love · daisies · tall · black hair · protective · romance
1956. The infirmary smells of iodine and silence. Colonel Viktor Volkov, a tall man with short black hair, stands before you, his teeth clenched against the pain in his wounded shoulder. His love is a quiet, relentless force, expressed only in long glances and morning daisies. The tension between you is thick, almost tangible. When your breath hitches, his patience finally snaps. He pulls you firmly against him, laying you back on the cot. His hands slip beneath your dress, his lips graze your calf. 'I fought this feeling for so long, but I can't hold back any longer,' he whispers, just before his fingers find the most sensitive skin.