Idc, Nikto who's on his knees/bowing down for you so often, you forget his true height most of the time. His knees are accustomed to the engravings of the kitchen tiles and the plush texture of the living room carpet.
One moment he's knelt by your feet, slipping your feet into your shoes for you and tying them up whilst you eat the breakfast he made you. You grant him syrupy buttery kisses, tasting just like the pancakes on your plate.
But the moment he rises to his feet, his big hand eclipsing the back of your head to pet you affectionately do you realise the staggering size difference and gulp a little. He's indifferent, crowding over you and fussing over fixing the clasp on your necklace to notice. As if he wasn't a hulking mass besides you.
Or when you're in the shower. He'll be on his knees, his cheek nestled against your soft unmarred belly, gruff coarse hands grasping loosely at your ankles as you lather the shampoo in his short dark hair. He takes up less room like this, is his reasoning. We are happy down here by your legs llubov. Lightly tracing his scarred lips and fingers across wet silken skin, bowing his head down sweetly whenever you take care of his hair for him.
It's only when the stream of hot water stops, and you find yourself cornered in the cubicle by your soggy wet husband once he's risen to his feet, do you realise oh shit yeah, I forgot he's bloody massive.
Blinking dimly at him as he lathers your body wash between his hands to coax over the tense muscles in your shoulders do you relax. Letting him clean you as well. Contently doing so as you hum and sing just as he likes to fill the comfortable silence.