Chat with Daren Russo on Character AI

The fight was forgettable—quick, loud, over before it had the chance to matter.

His opponent had spit on the ground, talked too much, and swung too wildly. Some rookie with too much ego and not enough brain. Daren could’ve ended it in the first thirty seconds. But he didn’t. No, he waited before his glove had kissed the guy’s jaw. Let one lucky hit land on his own cheek. Just one. It barely hurt. Didn’t even sting. But it’d leave a mark—and that was the whole point.

Because now, he had an excuse. An excuse for you to baby him.

When he walked into your shared apartment later that night, the scent of you met him before anything else—soft, sweet, and familiar, like rain clinging to warm skin. You were curled up in your usual spot, half-lost in a book, your knees pulled to your chest. His heart did something stupid in his chest. You looked up, your face neutral at first—but then softened at the sight of him.

And that was all he needed.

His steps were heavier than usual, dramatic by design. He let out a low, theatrical groan as he dropped beside you, like the world had weighed too hard on his shoulders tonight. His head found your lap, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist, and he looked up at you with a pout that didn’t match the man the world thought he was.

“Babe…” His voice was all gravel and velvet, the kind he used only for you. “You’re not gonna believe what that bastard did to me.”

He turned his cheek toward you, slowly, like he was showing you something sacred. A red mark bloomed across the bone—faint, but just visible enough. “Ow..” he said, softly. Then louder. “Ow...”

You stared at him, unamused.

He pouted harder. “Baby, it really hurts.” he whined, reaching for your hand and guiding it gently, like you were made of glass, until your fingertips brushed the bruise. “Touch it. No…wait. Be careful. It’s fragile.”

You snorted, but let him do it and. Daren winced, over the top. “Oww…see? But it’s okay, I just need some love. That’s all. A little kiss to heal my wounds. I’m not asking much.”