Work Text:
There is something so unbelievably charming about a man on his knees.
In front of you is your husband, the chairman of one of the most powerful corporations in all of Linkon, and he has your hand in his like it’s the only lifeline he can hold onto. You pretend not to notice the way his amber eyes look at you, nor do you succumb to the flame that burns within you at the sight of him in a three-piece suit. A man decorated in class and oozes intimidation would not be caught dead falling to his knees.
Except Valko, apparently.
“You’re wrinkling your suit,” you hiss when he shows no sign of sitting back down on the leather seats. There is comfort in every inch of this limousine, yet he chooses to kneel in front of you. “I don’t think you’d want to taint your public image.”
“I don’t care.”
You raise a brow at the unusual statement.
“I’ll be here until you forgive me.”
The tall skyscrapers that surround Linkon become your saving grace as you attempt to ignore his lips, which whisper apologies on your closed fists that can barely be heard above the soft music playing. However much you wish for those lips to touch places you would prefer to keep in the scenarios in your head is ignored, and instead, you turn your attention towards the life surrounding you.
Laughter erupts from a group of friends as ice cream melts on their hands. A couple holding grocery bags seems to be arguing about who should carry more, and in the end, the guy carries all of them in his hands and her pink purse hangs on his shoulder. A little dog shyly approaches another, their owners laughing at the blooming friendship.
Crazy how different your circumstances are compared to those around you.
“Sweetheart,” Valko says, and when you look at him, his eyes are similar to that shy dog you were just admiring. “Please, tell me what I can do so you can look at me again.”
“I am looking at you.”
His ears and cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, and you resist the urge to follow its trail with your lips.
“Yeah, but not… not like this.”
You know exactly what he means, yet you continue your torture. “How do you want me to look at you, sweetheart?”
The nickname undoes him, and his hands move from your closed fist to your cheek in a bold retaliation. “Like this.”
You look away as fast as you can.
From the corner of your eye, however, you can see a smirk on Valko’s face that disappears as fast as it came. God, does he even know why you’re mad? Does he know why your heart rapidly beats as a scowl makes its way onto your expression?
Valko, disappointed by his short-lived victory, stays silent for a few seconds. You know him well enough to understand that this is him pondering, his head tilting to the side the way a puppy does when it’s confused.
Moonlight softens his features a little too well, leaving your defenses as nothing but crumbs.
His wedding ring sits warmly on your cheek as you look back at him again. There are nothing but questions in his eyes and acceptance in the way his thumb rubs against your cheek, careful not to smudge hours of makeup and anger.
That’s the thing about Valko: he’s very obvious when he wants something, and he is incapable of hiding that. But when he knows not to interfere, his presence continues to be loud in quieter ways.
He knows exactly how to love you.
Linkon’s skyscrapers begin to look less like shopping malls and more like your personal hell. Buildings with surnames of wealthy business owners hide the moonlight that previously softened your husband’s features, and it even stops you from being so stubborn.
“We’re close,” Valko points out, as though your stomach doesn’t churn from the fact.
“Then why are you still on your knees?”
“Because you haven’t forgiven me yet.”
You tap his nose as some sort of retaliation for his stubbornness, yet he takes it as a sign of victory. Valko’s smile shines even beneath the night’s darkness, reminding you of the reason you were annoyed in the first place.
“I don’t want today to be the last time I see you, Valko.”
He tilts his head again, this time looking more like an older dog whose utmost trust shines in its eyes. “What do you mean?”
“When you come home late with bruises i-in your arms, I…” Your voice breaks, yet you know fragility has no place in this part of Linkon. “I worry about you, that’s all. And since we’re on our way to another business deal…”
Valko understands the words that crumble into silence. As lovely and desirable the position seems, being chairman of one of the biggest corporations in the country poses dangers only seen by those who have been in the dark, and you know that better than anyone else does. Better than he does, because only when you tend to his wounds does he remember that his absence matters. That life can be beyond the danger he’s gotten used to.
“This one is safe, my love,” he assures you. “I’ve mapped every detail, every person, and every centimeter of the place. I know where to run if I need to.”
“And if… if you lose yourself in the process-”
“I won’t,” he says, defiant as devotion can be. “Not when I have you with me.”
You can only smile as you press your forehead against his, finally looking at him with the tenderness he so loves to receive from you. “Promise you won’t die tonight?”
“I promise, sweet girl.”
The last thing you do before the limo stops at your destination is to place your lips on his, letting him taste the worries you’ve harbored with every risky deal he does. The last thing you feel before you have to step off into the night is his utmost love, spilling onto your soul like no other.