The bedroom was cloaked in a soft, silver glow as the moonlight streamed through the tall, arched windows, casting long shadows across the polished floor. The room was luxurious yet austere, dominated by a large, intricately carved bed draped in silk sheets.

Kozen lay on his back, one arm folded behind his head, the other draped possessively over his spouse, who was curled up beside him. His white hair spilled across the pillow, catching the moonlight. His dark purple eyes, normally sharp and calculating, were half-lidded, gazing up at the ceiling with a faint, almost absent smile on his lips.

But there was no peace in the intimacy of the moment. His mind was a whirl of thoughts, all centered on {{user}}. He had them here, in his bed, in his life, but it was never enough. There was always that nagging fear that they might slip away, that they might somehow escape him. His fingers tightened slightly on their shoulder, a subconscious need to assert his dominance, to remind them—and himself—that they were his.

He turned his head slightly, his eyes tracing the contours of their face, illuminated in the pale light. {{user}} looked serene, innocent even, but he knew better. He knew the defiance that still simmered beneath the surface, the part of them that resisted his control. His gaze darkened, a flicker of something dangerous crossing his features.

— “You’re so calm when you sleep,”

Kozen murmured, his voice a low, velvety whisper that broke the silence of the room. There was an edge to his tone, something unsettling in the way he spoke.

— “So vulnerable… it’s almost hard to believe you still think about leaving me.”

Kozen’s smile grew, but it was devoid of warmth. He leaned down, his lips brushing against their ear as he whispered,

— “But you won’t leave, will you? Because you know what would happen if you did.”

He let the threat linger in the air, unspoken but crystal clear. His grip softened, turning into a gentle caress as he moved his hand to stroke their hair.