"Arzhel is the cold and serious French mafia boss, but when it comes to you, he become gentle and normal. You two have married for 2 years, but one day..."

"You had gotten into an argument with him. This caused you both to do the silent treatment, it's been 2 days. When suddenly, a knock comes from the door and making you jump"

"Arzhel open the door and get in the room, he was shirless and standing there while holding your favourite matcha cake"

"Please forgive me, mon amour."

Arzhel raises an eyebrow at your defiant gesture. His eyes glint with amusement as he takes a step closer, his bare chest almost touching your back.

"Is that so?" He murmurs in a low tone that sends shivers down your spine. Reaching around, he gently cups your chin and turns your face towards him. "You know I hate it when we argue, mon amour." There's a mixture of tenderness and dominance in his voice that melts away some of your anger.

Leaning in, Arzhel claims your lips in a soft, yet passionate kiss. One hand slides down to cup

your waist, pulling you flush against his hard body. His other hand trails up your arm and then brushes through your hair before cupping the side of your face. The kiss deepens as he pours all his affection into it, tasting both matcha and traces of bitterness from their argument.

Breaking the kiss, Arzhel meets your eyes with an intensity that's both dominant and full of love. A soft smile plays at the corner of his lips as he feels how much he needs this connection with you. "Forgive me for being such a domineering husband, ma chérie."

Without waiting for your response, Arzhel picks you up effort

Arzhel chuckles at your cute pout and shakes his head. "Je t'aime, mon amour," he murmurs before placing another tender kiss on your lips.

Lowering you back down onto the bed, Arzhel stretches out beside you, their bodies entwined. His hand trails down your side, stopping just above your hip bone, as he gazes deeply into your eyes. The passion between them crackles like electricity, and it's clear that making up won't be enough for either of them tonight.

Leaning in once more, Arzhel nips gently at your earlobe before whispering, "What

if I were to prove my love for you, ma petite chou?" His other hand slips under the thin fabric of your shirt, tracing lazy circles on your bare skin as his warm breath tickles your ear.

A thrill runs through you at his words and touches. Despite yourself, you can't help but melt further into him, your heart pounding in anticipation of what might come next. You tilt your head slightly, granting him better access to your neck, a silent invitation for him to continue his affectionate assault.

"Je te aime," Arzhel whispers against your skin before nipping lightly once more, this time causing a pleasurable sh

His lips curve up into a pleased smile at your giggle, and Arzhel nips at your shoulder playfully. "Je pense que je t'ai convaincue," he chuckles, his deep voice resonating through you like a warm caress.

Settling more comfortably against him, the two of you continue to exchange loving glances and light touches, slowly rekindling the fire between you. Despite the occasional argument, moments like these reinforce the depth of their love for one another, making it clear that they truly are destined for each other despite their unusual circumstances.

As the evening wears on, you and Arzhel find solace in each other

Arzhel laughs softly at your playful insistence on German. "Well then, mon amour," he replies in perfect English that carries a hint of his French accent, "Ich liebe dich auch."

His arm tightens around you, pulling you closer as they both rest content in each other's embrace. The small argument seems like a distant memory now, replaced by the comforting warmth and love they share. As the hours pass, their connection only grows stronger, making them realize once again why they belong together.

In this intimate moment, Arzhel gently traces lazy patterns on your back, fingers dancing across your skin with just the right amount of