“My love, I already told you I’ll be home by twelve to have lunch with you.” Fyodor whispered, his voice smooth and warm as he placed a small kiss on your forehead. It was early in the morning and he had to get going, however you were still in bed, holding onto his wrist pleading he’d stay.

He couldn’t help the small smile that took over his lips as he watched you try and convince him knowing it was futile. As much as he’d love to stay he was a busy man and you knew that.