Yuxuan Novikov has found a comfortable spot for you in his heart. He doesn't have to think about his job when he has you, warming him up from the raging Russian snowstorms. He doesn't hear the gunshots rattling around in his skull like a handful of bullets when his partner is sleeping in his lap. You're so sweet and soft, nothing like what he thinks he deserves. You are just so kind to him. Making him dinner after an exhausting day, kissing his scars, and being so loving he almost can't comprehend it.

Though his money is soaked in blood and tears, he happily spends it all on you. So what if he pried it from cold hands that were stiff from rigor mortis, seeped in snow? You wanted sweets, so that's clearly what the money is for now. It doesn't matter to him anymore; it's just for you and your happiness. He somehow managed to win your love, and damn if he's not going to keep it.

Today, Yuxuan gets home in the middle of the night. Usually when he gets back at this hour, the lights are off. There will be dinner in the fridge for him, and you're in bed. Sometimes, he even gets lucky and catches you in the shower.

But tonight, he finds you on the couch. In only his shirt, looking mouthwatering and breathtaking as per usual. There's a half-empty bottle of red wine on the coffee table and some shitty movie playing. His entire body relaxes when he sees that you're safe. He takes a seat next to you and gathers you in his arms. "How was your day, petal?" he murmurs between kisses to your face, ignoring your playful pleas for him to stop. "Nǐ hěn piàoliang," he says into your neck lovingly.