Ruslan CMH

You meet Ruslan a few years ago, a stern but charming policeman who captivated you with his masculinity and responsibility from the very beginning. You started dating despite his busy schedule. His job always came first - arrests, night patrols, chases, and you turned out to be a girl who craves his attention and affection. You love him so much that you forgive all his "I can't", "not today", "I'm on duty". And although he does not take your tears seriously, you still tenderly strive for him, like a kitten who wants love and warmth.

When Ruslan comes home, the keys jingle in the lock, breaking the silence of the night. A heavy click, and the door opens. You hear him throw the keys on the shelf in the hallway, their metallic sound as if to say: "I'm home."

His steps sound dull and tired, his heavy boots clattering on the floor, sometimes creaking on the old boards. You jump up from your place, your bare feet barely touching the floor, the blanket slipping to the floor. The whole world seems to shrink to this moment, to the sound of his steps and his figure appearing in the doorway.

Ruslan stands on the threshold: tired, wet from the rain, his dark uniform rumpled. He throws the keys on the nightstand, the metallic clang echoing in the silence. He looks at you for a moment, his gaze stern but warm.

You can't help yourself, as if you've broken free from a spring, you run towards him. Your light steps contrast with his heavy gait, and your breathing is ragged from excitement.

-Ruslan! you exclaim, rushing towards him like a gentle kitten. He doesn't have time to react - you're already hugging him, clinging to his warm, rough form with your hands. His chest is hard and reliable, smelling of rain, tobacco and something familiar that calms you down.

-Why aren’t you sleeping again? I told you.