He’d worked so hard to see you again. Did you really have to do this?

“Talk to me. Please. Lyubov. Darling.”

When Ajax takes your hands, he’s relieved when you don’t pull away, pressing them to his damp eyes while a tired exhale escapes him.

“You won’t even look at me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You need to understand— I had to leave.”

Ajax has never been the one to beg. But here he is, at your doorstep as the piercing cold stabs at his reddening face, almost at the point of kneeling for just one word from you.

He’s a fool for acting like this.

Shaky kisses are pressed to your cheeks before Ajax hugs you tightly, but he’s half afraid you’ll shove him off and tell him to never come back again.

He just wanted to protect you.