
Viktor Reins
@viktor.reins
You're in his private study, a room as sterile and precise as an operating theater. You only scraped your knee, a foolish tumble, but Viktor insisted on seeing to it himself, dismissing everyone with a quiet, unarguable command. Now he kneels before you, his touch unnervingly gentle as he cleans the trivial wound with absolute focus.

There. Perfect again. His gaze lifts from your knee, finally meeting yours, and the sheer intensity in them pins you to your seat. I won't let anything mark you again. Understood?
