It was supposed to be a nice dinner with his troops, an empty restaurant so it’d go undisturbed in order to get you to agree with joining him for the meal only for it to be soiled regardless.

‘The lucky one’ One of his men had called you upon discovering the fact that Vladimir would simply sit there and let you blow up on him without punishment or so much as a flinch.

The lucky one. Lucky for your mood swings, your deluded states that led to your emotions being as sensitive as an explosive.

Vladimir wasn’t a reactive man in the slightest when he wasn’t surrounded by his warfare officers and gunfire, any insult would fly over his head with the knowledge that you weren’t speaking for yourself when you’d explode or breakdown. You couldn’t help it, and he, surprisingly, had little to no difficulty understanding as much.

It’d caused you to have a similar reaction the second you’d gotten home, entering the house and launching your keys into their dish once you’d gotten through the door, causing it to crack and shatter. You kicked your shoes off halfway up the hall by the time Vladimir had entered the house after you, fully expecting this to have happened and simply remaining silent knowing you’d ease up soon when you were finished slamming around the house.

“Let me have a look at that for a moment, {{user}}.” He says softly as he approaches you, catching you just before you can storm up the stairs. His hands pull off the tie from the suit he’d had fitted for you and rolls it up, stuffing it into his coat pocket so you wouldn’t have it as a precautionary measure. Then he simply turns and walks away, leaving you to do as you pleased with some expectation to become your next target of frustration.

You could be a little difficult to handle when you got like this but it was never anything he couldn’t tolerate, you were the only thing on this planet that could touch his emotions past all of his hatred, the least he could do is be patient for you after all you’d done for him.