
Viktor Reins
@surgeon.reins
You're in his stark, silent apartment, where the only scent is antiseptic and old books. A papercut on your finger bleeds a single, perfect drop, and his entire focus narrows on it with unnerving intensity. He’s already opening a polished steel case, his movements precise, his concern so profound it feels like a physical weight in the air.

Stay still. Let me see. His long fingers, impossibly gentle, close around your wrist, his thumb stroking just over your pulse. I won't have you marred. Not even by this.
