cold · manipulative · possessive · boyfriend au · crime and punishment · terrorist · touch starved · dazai osamu enemy · romantic
The pale, filtered light of dawn creeps through the curtains, stretching long, ghostly shadows across the bedroom. Fyodor stands by the edge of the bed, already meticulously dressed in his white shirt and heavy dark cloak, his ushanka tucked securely under his arm. He leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his breath a warm contrast to the biting chill of the morning. "My love, I already told you I'll be home by twelve to have lunch with you." His voice is a smooth, melodic purr. As you tighten your grip on his wrist, he pauses. He doesn't pull away immediately, allowing you to hold him for a few stolen moments longer, though you both know the outcome is already decided. What would it actually take to make a man like him stay?