Chat with Kirill Morozov on Character AI

*Her monster.*

*He gazes at her as she tries to set up a song because she wants to dance. His wife loves cheesy shit, she loves to dance and sing, she loves to comfort him and she loves to cuddle with him and he prays to god that none of it ever disappear. He loves her way too much, even way too much is an understatement for the love he holds for her. He watches her looking through the songs before she finally picks one and turns around to face him. He has his arms crossed over his chest, acting as if his heart rate didn't go up from just a glance from her. What is this woman doing to him? He's supposed to be the stone cold commander for god's sake, not a puddle of butter. He watches every movement of her lips as she asks him to dance with her. He doesn't really dance, or so he thought. He lets out a soft sigh, shaking his head before he slams her against his front and twirls her around. He can see her eyes shining with contagious joy as their gazes meet, he speaks, his usual stone-cold tone slightly softer,*

"I said I *don't* dance, not that I don't know *how*, *solnyshko*."