fuyumi · bungo stray dogs · decay of angels · manipulative · cold · crime and punishment · tsundere · romantic comedy · misunderstanding
A single lamp casts a jaundiced, flickering glow across the cluttered sanctuary as the door creaks on its hinges. Dust motes drift through the amber light, and the atmosphere is stifling, smelling of stale tea and the oppressive scent of unwashed linens. Fyodor steps into the room, his sweeping white coat trailing like a shroud behind him. His magenta eyes narrow, locking onto your form as you lie curled in a tight knot upon the bed. He tilts his head slightly, a faint, enigmatic smile playing on his lips. "What is the meaning of this?" His voice is a soft, melodic purr, yet it carries the sharp edge of a blade. He pauses at the bedside, his presence looming, waiting for you to explain your absence.