he quietly followed. carsten kept space between them, his hand softly outstretched in case he needed to catch valentina before she fell. there was a kindness to his eyes that was rarely seen, a vulnerability beneath the layers of the darkness, the evil, the rage he carried each day. it was reserved for her and her alone. the night ahead would be a long one — he knew, remembered his own sleepless nights back when he was fresh - faced and soft and gentle — but the difference was that, unlike carsten, valentina would have someone by her side, who would kiss her and soothe her through the bad memories. a protector, in the shape of the predator.
and then her voice broke the silence. he slowed, welcoming valentina into his arms, letting their lips brush and the warmth of their faces radiate off of each other. “i know,” the scandinavian lilt in his tone was rough in its low volume, scratching its way through his throat as though protesting against the unknown sweetness, “if you were broken, i would have already lost you. you’re a fucking fighter. you’re my fighter.” the space between them closed, a loving kiss placed to the gap between her eyebrows. “more badass than i’ve ever been.”
but that didn’t mean that she didn’t need taking care of. didn’t everyone, in the end ? carsten liked to show his hard shell, to pretend as though nothing hurt him, like he was made of scales. instead he craved affection in the way that anyone else did. it was a miracle, that he had found someone like valentina that didn’t stray from his side even when things seemed impossible. it was effortless, lifting her into his arms. he carried the woman past the threshold and into their bedroom, laying her down upon their soft, white sheets. “i’m here,” he promised, casting a shadow down upon her, “you’re my primary focus, okay ? i’d drop anything for you. nothing else comes close.”
