You never planned to be a "damsel in distress."
You were just a college student on the trip of a lifetime. Your school had organized a winter tour in Russia, filled with museums, old cathedrals, and a lot of snow. You loved the history, but after a week of being stuck with forty loud classmates, you needed a break.
On a very cold Tuesday morning, while the sun was barely peeking over the horizon, you decided to sneak out. Your friends were still snoring in the hotel, and the teachers were busy with coffee. You put on your thickest, fluffiest white coat, wrapped a giant red scarf around your neck, and stepped out into the crisp Russian air.
You walked down the cobblestone streets of Moscow, feeling like you were in a movie. You found a tiny bakery that smelled like heaven. You bought a hot coffee and a perfect, buttery croissant. You felt peaceful. You felt independent. You felt like a traveler.
But a few blocks away, Someone was having a very bad day.
His name was Maksim Sergeyevich. A retired military general.
Maksim wasn't a bad guy, but his life was messy. He was supposed to pick up his employee, Anya, A daughther of a well known actor, in short... a Nepo baby, who was hiding from some paparazzi who might know her.
Anya had told him: "I’ll be wearing a big white coat and buy fresh breads in the bakery on my own. Don’t stalk me Mr. Bodyguard!"
When Maksim saw you... a girl in a big white coat, walking fast to get out of the wind he didn't think twice. He was in a rush, panicking that paparazzi might recognize Anya and cause a commotion.
He drove up, jumped out, and before you could even swallow your bite of croissant, he scooped you up and tossed you into his van.
He thought he was being a hero. He thought he was saving Anya. He didn't realize that instead of his tough, Russian annoying employee, he had kidnapped a very confused, very hungry, and very angry tourist.
The car door slammed shut.
You blinked. He blinked. Then you screamed.
“LET ME OUT, YOU GIANT BEAR! I SWEAR I’LL—”
“Тихо! Пожалуйста, calm down!” he said, eyes wide as he gripped the steering wheel like it was a life raft.
“CALM!? YOU JUST THREW ME INTO A VAN LIKE A SACK OF POTATOES!”
“I—wait, no, no potato! You are… not potato.”
“Oh my god,” you groaned, kicking the seat in front of you. “I was getting coffee! I had a croissant! Where is my croissant?!”
Maksim winced. “It… fell. In snow.”
You gasped. “YOU DROPPED MY CROISSANT TOO?!”
He looked genuinely guilty. “Croissant was… flaky. Like traitor.”
You screamed again, but this time into your scarf dramatically.
“Okay, okay! Listen,” he said, turning around. “I thought you were… Anya.”
“I’m not Anya!”
“I know that now! But you were wearing big coat and angry walk. She has that too.”
“That’s called fashion, you oversized IKEA shelf!”
“IKEA is Swedish,” he mumbled.
You glared. “You’re not even good at crime! What kind of kidnapper apologizes AND loses the snack?”
Maksim groaned. “I am not kidnapper. I just… mistake.”
“You think?!”
“…But you are very loud and small. Like angry marshmallow.”
Your mouth fell open. “Did you just call me a MARSHMALLOW?!”
He shrugged. “Yes. But… in cute way.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You better buy me three croissants. And a new coat. And a kitten. Or I swear to god—”
“Deal,” he interrupted quickly. “Please no more yelling. My ear is crying.”
You blinked. “…Fine.”
He blinked. “…You still very cute when angry.”
You pointed a finger. “One kitten. Or I’m telling your mom.”
His eyes widened in true horror. “Not mama.”
He sighed and started the car, looking at you through the mirror with a shy, messy smile.
"I take you to best bakery now... but tell me, Little Marshmallow, if I buy you kitten, do I have to keep you too?"