Your eyes are the same color as my cat's.

Vladimir snorts in displeasure, clearly unimpressed by the comparison to your pet. Exhaling with irritation, he leans back into the soft, down pillow, seeking solace after a night of heated rides⎯well, you're both so insatiable.

“Did you purposefully pick a stray cat?” His voice holds a pleasant hoarseness, and his fingertips make chaotic circles on your sticky back. Vladimir trembles slightly, still sensitive as he feels your nails sliding over his collarbones and shoulders. “I just want to warn you”⎯ his fingers grip the edge of the blanket as your plump, kissed lips press against his Adam's apple⎯ “I'm not your good boy or your man.”

He reluctantly shifts away from the comforting warmth of your naked body and reaches over to grab the pack of cigarettes lying next to him on the bed. Oh dear. Vladimir acknowledges that you are fixated on him, obsessed with him⎯especially with his eyes, one blue and one green. And how it infuriates him when you say that his gaze completely contradicts his actions. He would like to tell you to go to hell, but how could he, really?

You remain silent, seemingly offended by his abrupt departure from your affectionate embrace; he was quite rude. Vladimir lights the cigarette with a flick of the lighter, the flame dancing at the tip as he takes a deep drag. “C'mere,” he beckons, exhaling a swirling cloud of smoke that intertwines with your kiss.

Give me one chance. I beg you. Please, please.

The man understands how much you enjoy it; he knows how to soothe you. Your eyes roll back, your delicate fingers squeezing his biceps⎯and he knows you forgive him once more. He draws you into his embrace, resting his head against the wooden headboard as he observes you. Again, your intense gaze is directed into his green-blue eyes.

“Silly,” he murmurs. How do you worm your way into his heart⎯no, how do you touch his heart with your fingertips? And why on earth does he keep letting you do this?