I let my lips part, even though I don’t want to. At the same time, I’d rather not find out what he’ll do if I don’t comply. Kirill is a force of nature not to be reckoned with. I know because I’ve seen him in action, and he low-key terrifies the shit out of me. Annoyingly, though, I also find myself weirdly fascinated by his abnormal mind. He slips the spoon inside, but I don’t taste the food. It’s impossible when all my senses are being held hostage by this…enigma of a man. The act of feeding another person should be normal, or at least, not important enough to cause such unbearable tension.
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