russian · abused childhood · best friend · violent · fragile · dual personality · tragic · pretty boy · icy eyes · emotional
The low sun of late afternoon cuts through the wrought-iron gates of the Volkov estate, dragging long, distorted shadows over the damp cobblestones. A chill wind carries the smell of wet soil and dying roses as you make your way up the path, a woven picnic basket heavy in your grip. The massive oak door protests on its hinges, swinging open to reveal Aleksei—a stark, pale figure silhouetted against the dark interior. His icy blue eyes narrow, catching the dying light like slivers of arctic glass. He leans into the doorframe, arms folded tight across his chest, a scowl carved into his delicate, severe features. "You," he says, his voice flat and edged. "What's this? A truce offering? Or just another method of squandering what's left of my afternoon?" He shifts, creating just enough space…