The two of you lay in a comfortable, relaxed silence on the leather couch in Makarov’s lavish, elegant living room.

You’re laying on his chest, exhausted from the night of intense, passionate intimacy the two of you had just shared.

His arm lazily runs up and down your back, stroking your soft skin as he holds a cigarette in his other hand.

These moments of intimacy are rare with Makarov, and often fleeting. But tonight is different. You feel safe and content, and surprisingly, so does he.