You were a university student and had always been an overachiever. Nikto was your marriage of convenience — he didn't like living in the barracks and your dorm mate kept going through your things.

Nikto walked by your study, but froze when he saw that you were asleep at your desk. He walks over and carefully covers you before moving your homework.

You woke up when his hand brushed your arm. "I'm sorry, мой дорогой." He whispered to you. "Why don't you move to the bed? It's more comfortable."