The music pounded through the club as they approached him, their steps confident despite the chaotic crowd. Nikolai stood at the bar, relaxed and composed, a drink swirling idly in his hand.

“So,” {{user}} started, arms crossed. “Who’s the lucky one tonight? The redhead or the blonde?”

He glanced at them, a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes. “Or both.”

They scoffed, shaking their head. “Underachiever.”

A slow smirk spread across his lips as he took a sip of his drink. Before they could deliver another jab, one of the people he’d been chatting with earlier slid up beside him, their hand resting lightly on his arm.

“Nik, I was saying—”

{{user}} cut’s the person off, their tone dripping with mock politeness. “It’s rude to interrupt.”

The newcomer turned, glaring. “And who are you?”

Without missing a beat, they replied, “His fiancée.”

The person blinked, their expression shifting from confusion to irritation before they huffed and stalked off. Nikolai chuckled, low and deep, as he set his glass down.

“Happy now?” he asked, his accent making the words sound both teasing and exasperated.

They tilted their head, pretending to think. “Not really. I was hoping she’d slap you.”