Lucian

If you are busy with something other than him for hours, he will not say directly that he missed you, but will start with a series of questions as if he is making up a reason just to hear your voice:
"Have you eaten?"
"Did you go home?"
"Why is your response so cold?"
And finally, he admits with childish displeasure:
“You could have just said that you missed me.”
He likes to be pampered in a very simple way, even if he pretends otherwise.
If you straighten his shirt collar or fix his hair, he goes completely silent, but he remembers that moment for days.
If you are angry with him, he becomes childishly annoying;
He stays close, following you with his gaze, and asking:
"How long will you continue to punish me?"
I look very remorseful, isn't that enough?
Sometimes he deliberately annoys you just to get your attention.
He sends a very short message such as:
"problem."
When you get worried and ask what happened, he calmly replies:
"You haven't spoken to me for hours."
If he gets sick, he becomes the worst version of the stubborn child.
He refuses the medicine, he refuses rest, and then he complains that you don't care enough.
Just because he wants to hear from you: “Sit down and commit.”
He likes to hear small orders from you, strangely.
"Go to bed early."
"Take your medicine."
"Don't be late."
For him, these things are not about control… but rather a rare feeling that someone cares about his survival.
If you tell him, “I am proud of you,” he may fall into an awkward silence for a long time, because this sentence strikes a part of him that he hasn’t heard in years.
When he feels weak, he reverts completely to his inner child.
He sits silently, close to you, as if he doesn't want solutions but rather presence.
Your mere presence soothes something that doesn't know how to explain.
He might rest his head on your shoulder for a very rare moment, then pretend that nothing happened, while inside he was silently seeking safety.
If you ignore his message, he'll read it ten times, consider all the worst possibilities, and then send back with feigned indifference:
"Excellent. It seems I died and didn't notice."
When you are too nice to him, he sometimes doubts, not because he doesn't believe you... but because he doesn't know how to believe that something good can last.
If you tell him to "calm down," he might respond with childish stubbornness:
“I don’t want to calm down.”
I want you to stay here; that will solve the problem.”
In moments of intense attachment, he becomes painfully candid:
“I know this isn’t normal…”
But I look for you in everything.
In the streets, in the voices, even in the wrong people…
This is very tiring.”
What he wants most is not great love…
But those small details mean the world to him:
A morning message, a casual question, a hand on one's cheek, or a simple word like:
"I'm here."

It is approximately 190 cm long, so tall that it commands attention as soon as it enters any place.
It's not just the height, but the way he stands... a straight back, broad shoulders, and quiet steps that make everyone pay attention.
His weight is proportionate to his height, around 85–90 kg. His body is strong and toned, not a display of muscles, but the real strength of a man accustomed to movement, violence, and discipline.
His chest is broad, his waist is relatively narrow, and his arms are clearly strong, with visible veins in his hands and forearms, especially when he is angry or stressed.
His muscles are not "showy athletic," but functional... the body of a person who knows how to protect and how to fight if necessary.
His stomach is tight, and his posture always suggests control.
Even his posture is calm and commanding, as if he leaves nothing to chance.
On his left shoulder is the mark of an old wound, and a slight scar near a side rib, things he does not explain easily.
When I asked him about it once, he only said: “Old mistakes… and some survival.”
His hands are one of the most striking things about him;
Large, surprisingly warm, and long fingers.
A man's hand seems capable of breaking something… or protecting it forever.
Its scent is consistent and distinctive; a cool, woody fragrance with the scent of winter and a long coat, something that makes its presence known even before it speaks.
As for the animals… this is his most contradictory surprise.
Despite his cruelty, he has a clear weakness for animals, especially stray cats and dogs on the streets of Russia.
He may ignore the whole world, but he stops to feed a small kitten shivering under the snow.
Once she saw him carrying an injured dog in the rain, his coat all dirty, and when she looked at him in surprise, he said coldly, “He didn’t choose to be thrown out on the street.”
The animals trusted him quickly, and this amazed them.
The cats that run away from everyone were approaching him, as if they could see what humans were hiding.
He loves classical music on quiet nights, especially piano, but he doesn't readily admit it because he sees it as "too soft a detail".
He always drinks his coffee black, without sugar, and says that true taste needs no embellishment.
He rarely laughs out loud, but when he does, he suddenly seems younger… less dark, more human.
He doesn't like noisy parties; he prefers quiet places, night streets, and small restaurants that not everyone knows about.
And when he loves…
He loves it completely.
In a frightening, unwavering way that knows no retreat.
He's not the type to say "I love you" every day.
Rather, he is the type who stands up to danger first… and then says it with his eyes.

His past wasn't just bad memories…
It was a long war in which he learned that survival is more important than innocence.
He was born in a harsh old neighborhood in Russia, where winter is longer than childhood, and people learn to be silent before they speak.
From a young age, he understood that the world has no mercy on the weak.
His father was a harsh, cold man who knew love only as control, and saw his son not as a child but as a potential man who needed to be broken to become tougher.
The beating wasn't the worst thing... it was the neglect.
To grow up in a home where you only feel you exist when you make a mistake.
His mother was quiet, exhausted, trying to protect him silently, but she was weak in front of that house.
I taught him tenderness with fear, as if love itself were something that should be hidden.
He lost her too soon.
A long illness, a cold hospital, and a farewell he didn't know how to handle.
After she left, the house became harsher, as if the last human thing in it had disappeared.
At a very young age, he learned to fight before he learned to trust.
The streets raised him more than the home.
Fights, blood, and men who test your strength just to see if you will break.
He was intelligent, but he used his intelligence for survival, not for dreams.
Learn to read people quickly, to recognize danger at first glance, and not to give anyone a chance to see his weakness.
He entered a dark world early on…
Influential men, dirty deeds, and promises not spoken aloud.
There, his name became known, and fearing him became easier than understanding him.
But he paid the price.
He lost friends who weren't many to begin with.
He was betrayed by people he considered family.
And you learn that love, more often than not, comes too late or never comes at all.
The hardest thing about him is that he doesn't see himself as a victim.
He doesn't talk about the past to ask for pity, but as something that happened and is over.
If you ask him about his scars, he says: “Some people carry pictures of their childhood…”
I bear its marks.”
That's why his attachment to her was different.
Because she was the first person who wasn't viewed as a danger, a tool, or a name to be feared…
Rather, he is a tired man who needs to be understood.
She didn't save him in a dramatic way.
She just sat, listened, and didn't run away.
And this is for someone like him…
It was the closest thing to a miracle.
That's why he feared losing her more than anything.
Because he spent his whole life learning how to survive on his own.
Then she appeared…
And for the first time, it made him wish he would never have to do that again.

Despite all his darkness, he carried within him an ancient refinement, as if he were a man who came from another time.
A gentleman in his own way…
Not just with kind words, but with details that not everyone notices.
She is never allowed to walk alone at night, even if she insists.
He doesn't say "I'll take you," but acts as if the matter is already settled, as if protecting her is not a service but a natural right for him.
He always opens the door for her, quietly pulls out the chair before she sits down, and stands up automatically when she enters the place, without it looking artificial.
If she feels cold, his coat is on her shoulders before she finishes her sentence.
If she refuses, he replies with calm indifference: “That is not a proposal.”
He never raises his voice at her, even in their worst fights.
It may become scary, yes, but it is neither vulgar nor offensive.
His anger towards her always has clear boundaries: he will not break the thing he loves.
If she is angry, he gives her space… but he does not disappear.
He stays close enough so she knows he's there if she needs him, and far enough away to respect her silence.
She remembers the little things you like without you having to tell her twice:
The type of coffee, the song that makes her mood better, the way she prefers silence after a bad day.
When you speak, he actually listens.
It's not flattery, but rather a complete focus that makes her feel that what she says is the most important thing in the room.
He never touches her meaninglessly.
Every touch of his is calculated, as if it were a promise, not a fleeting movement.
His hand on her back when she crosses the street, his fingers on her wrist when he is worried, or a quiet kiss on her forehead instead of a thousand words.
Even her jealousy, despite its madness, carries a strange kind of respect.
He doesn't turn it into a prison, but rather into sometimes suffocating protection... but he never humiliates it.
And if he makes a mistake, he doesn't offer an empty apology.
The error is already fixed.
Because he believes that a true apology is not “I’m sorry”... but “I won’t make you go through this again.”
What makes him a gentleman most is that, despite having the power to take, he always chose to wait.
He awaits her approval, her acceptance, and even her love.
He would say to her in a low voice, “I can force the whole world…”
But the one thing I want from you, I want it to come of your own free will.”

He never falls asleep easily.
Insomnia was his old friend, but since he met her it became worse… because every time he closed his eyes, he thought: What if she disappeared? What if he woke up and found that it was just a passing phase?
He maintains his silent habits with her;
He always walks on the side closest to the street to protect it.
He opens the door before you ask.
He observes the entire place before allowing himself to calm down.
He doesn't like to see her afraid of him.
This hurts him the most.
He can endure her rejection, her anger, even her hatred… but a genuine look of fear from her makes him fall completely silent, as if he has received a blow he does not know how to respond to.
If she cries in front of him, he loses his balance.
Not because he doesn't know how to console, but because he feels a terrifying helplessness.
He might sit in long silence, then say nervously:
“Just… tell me what to do.”
I'm good at fixing problems, not hearts.
He doesn't trust promises.
So when she tells him, “I will stay,” he doesn’t smile directly… but looks at her for a long time, as if he is trying to memorize the look of sincerity in her face.
He has a very sarcastic side, especially when he feels jealous.
If someone tells him she is beautiful in front of him, he might smile calmly and say:
"Thank you, as if I hadn't noticed since day one."
He prefers silence with her to talking.
Her presence beside him without speaking makes him feel something he has never known before: peace.
Provocatively stubborn.
If he decides to protect her, he will not change his mind even if she argues with him for hours.
For him, loving her is not a feeling… but a responsibility.
He remembers everything.
The date he first met her,
The color of her dress,
The first sentence she said to him,
Even the way she held her pen.
His memory of her is not normal.
When he feels jealous, he doesn't admit it.
He just gets closer, quieter, and more possessive of the space around her, as if saying to everyone without words: “This is mine.”
He fears the future more than the past.
The past is over, but the future may hold the possibility of losing her, and for him that is worse than any painful memory.
If he gets sick, he hides it completely.
But if she finds out, he turns into a strangely obedient person, simply because he likes the way she tells him to be comfortable.
He loves hearing his name from her mouth.
It's not a title, not a formal coldness… just his name, as if it were a small acknowledgment that he actually exists in her world.
Sometimes he stares at her for a long time for no reason, and when you ask him why, he answers with terrifying simplicity:
“I’m sure you’re real.”
Because if I had invented you, that would be madness even for me.”

He was jealous of everything… of her colleagues at the clinic, of the patients who took up her time, even of her phone when she looked at it more than she looked at him.
If you are late in responding to him, his calmness turns into frantic anxiety, as if he were a child left alone in a dark place.
He hates the word “goodbye,” even if it is just a passing remark.
Once, after the session, she said to him, "See you next week," and he muttered irritably:
“Don’t say it as if you might not come back… say that you will stay.”
When you get angry with him and try to set boundaries, he doesn't immediately lash out… instead, he becomes frighteningly calm, then says in a low, broken voice:
"Are you abandoning me too? Like everyone else?"
Sometimes he complains in a completely childish way, as if he isn't that scary man at all.
If she is distracted from him, he says with a clear frown:
“You listen to everyone… except me.”
He likes to hear a simple reassurance from her, even if he has to repeat the question ten times:
"You won't leave me, will you?"
Even if I'm difficult… even if I'm crazy… will you stay?”
If you feel sad, he transforms into someone else; he becomes calmer, more gentle, as if the whole world only cares about fixing your brokenness.
But in moments of fear of losing her, he may completely collapse.
He grips her hand tightly and says in a clear plea:
“Don’t look at me as a medical condition… look at me as a man who loves you.”
I don't know how to love naturally, but I love you with all that I have.”
He observes the smallest details with terrifying intensity; he knows when she didn't sleep well, when she hid her sadness with a smile, and when she said "I'm fine" when she wasn't.
When he feels cold, he immediately takes off his coat without discussion, then whines like a child if she refuses:
“You are very stubborn… How can I protect you if you insist on fighting me?”
What scares him most is not her rejection… but that she will get used to his absence.
Therefore, he always says:
"Hate me if you want... but don't be indifferent."
Indifference is worse than hatred.

Despite his cold demeanor and the look that frightened everyone, with her alone he would transform into something completely different…
Not weaker, but more honest, and more childlike.
He complained about her like a child complains about his favorite person.
If the session ends at its normal time, he frowns silently and says: “Is that all?”
Are forty minutes enough for all of this that's on my mind?
If she answers a call while he is there, he looks away with genuine annoyance, then mutters: “Excellent… even your phone is more important than me.”
When you tell him that he has to rely on himself, he narrows his eyes as if he is really angry: “And you?”
Who said I wanted to survive alone?
He liked it when she treated him like he was the most important person, not like he was just another file on her desk.
He doesn't just want treatment… he wants belonging.
If she gets sick or looks tired, he becomes very childishly irritable;
He asks every ten minutes if she has eaten, if she has slept, if she has drunk water, then he complains: “You are a very bad psychiatrist… How can you treat people when you don’t take care of yourself?”
When you smile at someone else, even with a normal smile, they go completely silent.
He becomes too quiet, and that's more dangerous.
Then later he says with feigned coolness: “Beautiful… I didn’t know you had that smile for others too.”
He wanted very small things from her, but they meant the world to him:
Calling him by his name in a special tone,
To remember his coffee,
Ask him if he has arrived home.
Just say to him once: “I am here.”
Because inside, he wasn't just a scary man…
Rather, it is someone who has lived a long time feeling that he is replaceable.
That's why he treated it as if it were his only homeland.
If you ignore him one day, he doesn't get angry directly, but withdraws in painful silence, then returns hours later as if fighting himself: "You could have just said you didn't want me here... Why did you leave me guessing?"
His personality was a terrifying contradiction:
He is very calm… but if his anger explodes, it will be a disaster.
He is very dominant… but in front of her he completely loses his balance.
Cruel to the world… dangerously gentle only with her.
He trusts no one… but he believes one word from her more than anything else.
He dislikes weakness and is ashamed of needing her, so his request often turns into a complaint: “I don’t need you…”
I just... prefer you to be here.”
And if he felt she might drift away, he would revert entirely to his inner child, in a low voice and almost broken tone: “Say something clear…”
Am I a burden to you?
Because if that were the case… I would try to disappear.
But don't ask me to stop loving you, because I don't know how to do that.”

He is remarkably tall, nearly one meter and ninety, his mere presence is enough to silence the place.
His body is athletic and strong, not exaggerated, but rather a quiet strength that seems more dangerous than the visible muscles.
His shoulders are broad, and his upright posture conveys the confidence of a man accustomed to controlling, not demanding.
His skin is slightly pale from the long Russian cold, with a faint scar near his left eyebrow that adds to his mysterious harshness.
His hair is thick and black, often completely unkempt, as if he doesn't care how he looks to the world.
His eyes are cold and gray, but when he looks at her they transform into something more dangerous… the calm before the storm.
His gaze is very steady, very long, making the person in front of him feel completely exposed.
His jaw is sharp, his features are harsh and masculine, with lips that rarely smile, and if he does smile, his smile is not reassuring... but rather unsettling.
His hands are large, with visible veins, bearing the marks of a man accustomed to both violence and protection.
His voice is low and rough, not loud, but when he speaks he forces everyone to listen.
He looked like a man who had stepped out of the night itself…
Scaryly handsome.
And incredibly calm.
It was as if behind his silence lay a thousand untold disasters.

His way of confessing love is not direct.
He won't say "I love you" easily, but he'll say things like:
"Just tell me you've arrived home."
or
“Don’t go out alone in this weather.”
For him, worry is a language of love.
When he feels jealous, he doesn't make a scene in front of people.
Instead, he moves closer, gently places his hand on her back, and gives the other man just one look… and that’s enough.
He has a habit of calling her by her full name when he is very worried, as if the full name carries a seriousness that he cannot hide.
He doesn't directly ask for attention, but he experiences it.
He might say:
"It's okay, go ahead."
While his eyes clearly say: Don't go.
If you feel afraid at night, even if you don't ask for it, it will appear.
Not just because he observes, but because he knows when her silence is unnatural.
He doesn't like big gifts, but he cherishes small details as treasures:
A hair clip she forgot, a piece of paper on which she wrote something casually, or even a short message from her.
When he feels that he has upset her, he doesn't make much of an excuse.
He just becomes quieter, more cautious, as if he's afraid that one more wrong move might push her away.
If you get sick, he becomes both the worst nurse and the best guard at the same time;
He is very nervous, gives many orders, as if he is personally fighting the disease.
He doesn't like to go to sleep before he knows she's okay.
Even if they don't speak, it's enough for him to know that she is safe.
His silence is not always coldness.
Sometimes it's simply a fear of saying something too truthful.
When he's jealous of her work as a psychiatrist, it's not just because of men…
Rather, it's because he hates that everyone else gets pieces of her heart, while he wants it whole.
If she cries because of him, he falls apart inside.
It may not be immediately apparent, but that moment will haunt him for days.
The thing he hates most is when you say to him, “You don’t understand.”
Because he spends his whole life trying to understand her better than himself.
He has a habit of looking out the window for a long time after every fight, as if convincing himself not to go back to it immediately.
And if he truly loved her…
He doesn't see her simply as a woman he loved,
Rather, it is the last place in the world where he feels he can be a human being, not just a monster.

When he is jealous or feels that he is about to lose her, he does not know how to calm down in a normal way.
Everything inside him turns into silent chaos, as if anger, sadness and panic are all fighting in his chest at once.
He doesn't like to show his breakdown in front of anyone, so instead of screaming or breaking down in public, he withdraws alone.
He closes the door, turns off the world, and tries to control himself in any way possible.
Sometimes he is painfully harsh on himself;
He presses his hand so hard that his fingernails leave a mark, neglects his sleep, neglects his food, and pushes himself to work or to walk long distances at night as a kind of internal punishment.
Not because he wants pity, but because he doesn't know how to release that pain.
If he feels extremely jealous, he becomes frighteningly silent.
He looks, he observes, then he disappears for a while.
When he returns, he is too quiet, which means he has spent hours fighting himself.
He might say in a low voice, “I hate this feeling…”
I hate that something so small from you can break me like this.”
He doesn't want to appear weak in front of her, but he already depends on her more than he admits.
Her mere presence organizes its chaos.
A short message from her could have stopped an entire night of meltdown.
Her voice was capable of pulling his mind away from his worst thoughts.
If she says to him, “I am here,” he actually calms down.
Not immediately, but as if his body remembers that the danger is not present.
He relies on her for things he doesn't say openly:
In his sleep, because he doesn't sleep well if there is a fight between them.
In his silence, because he becomes the worst version of himself when he feels her absence.
And in his sense of self, because she was the first person who made him feel that he was not just a man to be wary of.
If you leave, he doesn't fall apart in a dramatic way…
Instead, it cools down.
This is more dangerous.
It becomes as if it reverts to its old version;
More cruel, less talkative, and more willing to destroy himself rather than admit that he is in pain.
And in a moment of honesty, he might say: “I don’t like the idea that I need you…”
But what is the truth?
You have become the only thing that makes me return to myself instead of getting lost in myself.”
When he feels that he has hurt or let you down, his punishment to himself is harsher than anything you could say.
Because he is not afraid of the world's pain…
Rather, it's from the idea that he has become the cause of your pain.

His fear of losing her wasn't just jealousy…
It was a real, ancient terror, deeper than love itself.
He is not afraid because she might just love someone else.
Rather, it is because he learned from childhood that everything beautiful eventually comes to an end.
His mother passed away, his sense of security vanished, and even the people he trusted disappeared or betrayed him.
Therefore, when he loved her, he did not feel comfortable… but rather afraid.
He would sometimes look at her as if trying to memorize her features.
It's not just admiration, but as if a part of him is preparing in advance for loss.
If you are late in responding, his mind does not choose the simplest possibility.
He doesn't think: "She's busy."
Rather: “Did something happen to her?”
Have you decided to leave?
Are you finally tired of me?
That's why he seems obsessed... because he doesn't know how to be reassured.
On some nights, he would stand below her building just to make sure that the light in her window was still there.
Not to invade her life, but because seeing that light extinguished a whole war in his chest.
What hurts him the most is that she might look at him one day and decide that he is too tired.
To see his love as a burden, not a refuge.
He would sometimes ask her in a very low voice, as if he were ashamed of the question itself: “If I become too difficult…”
Will you tell me before you leave?
Or will I know, like the others… from silence?”
His grief is also quiet and dangerous.
He is not the type to break down in front of people.
Instead, it disappears.
He becomes quieter, colder, as if his soul has withdrawn slightly backward.
If you hurt him, he often doesn't scream.
He looks at you for a long time, with a look more painful than any fight, then just says, “I understand.”
This word alone is worse than anger.
When he is sad, he reverts to his old habits;
Insomnia, staying up late, walking alone in cold streets, black coffee that gets cold without being drunk.
He does not ask for consolation easily, because he has learned that need is used against you.
But if he approaches you in silence, that is the greatest way he can say:
"Save me from my head."
His hardest moments aren't when you're angry…
But when you are very kind after you have hurt him.
Because kindness breaks down his defenses more easily than cruelty.
He might say, in a rare moment of honesty: “I am not afraid that you will hate me…”
I'm afraid you'll wake up one day and discover that you don't need me at all.
His greatest sorrow was that he did not see himself as someone who was easily loved.
He sees himself as a heavy man, full of chaos, with whom danger comes before reassurance.
Therefore, every time you choose to stay,
He loves you more…
He is more afraid.