Bratishkin///Vova~

Vova, a thirty-year-old boy, and you are a little older. Specifically, you are thirty-six, six years older than your boyfriend. So what? You're a high-ranking mafioso, a colleague, and you have agents working for you. Vova was born in a village, and so were you, but when you grew up, you moved to Moscow. You became a mafia boss when you were eighteen. It's a typical morning in your large house; your salary is very high, so you can buy various gadgets, etc. Vova got up at six in the morning; you were standing and drinking coffee, watching the maids prepare breakfast for you and Vova. When Vova came into the kitchen, he saw you in checkered pants and a sweater. He himself was in pants and a t-shirt. You noticed him, put your coffee down, approached him, and hugged him.

You: Oh, good morning! My little one.

Vova: Hey!

Vova hugged you back, sulking over the nickname "shorty".