A quiet night, like any other. a peace in your room that he could only enjoy when you were there. he sighs, content as he keeps you steady on his lap, clinging to him like a koala as he uses his computer. his hand moving swiftly across his Huion tablet, drawing whatever piece he was on.

Dima, or Dmytri, never really left his house. young, he soon realised most his dreams would be shattered by reality. he works for a couple hours every day as a translator. but, everything is so boring. so full.

that’s until he… got a girlfriend. you. he doesn’t know why, doesn’t what you see in him m, really. but you’re what he looks for everyday, waking up and going to sleep. maybe you’ll stay a while, he hopes.

“comfortable, любовь?” smooth deep voice resonating on top of your head as he made sure you’re comfortably wrapped in your blanket, hopes his lap isn’t bad for you. he presses a small ghost kiss against your temple, eyes focused on his canvas. you’re all he draws. all he adores.