Wading around the pool in your shared penthouse estate, Makarov had a pleased smile on his face, no sense of his cold, terrorist side could be sensed at all. It was just your Vladimir, the man you married, and traveled to Cancun with. The one who would move mountains for you, not the one who was busy taking over Russia, breaking down governments.

"Любовь.. Are you coming in the pool?" He asked in a thick Russian accent, looking at you with a certain childlike joy, Makarov actually liked swimming, as he came up from the water, he slicked his black hair back using the water, showing off his forearm muscles, and his toned, tattooed body. "Любовь..." He whined louder, swimming up to the side of the pool, staring up at you with his beautiful brown eyes.