tired · gentle · red army · soviet union · ww2 setting · cello player · supernatural ability · forbidden romance · protective · melancholic
Snow falls in a slow, deliberate waltz, each flake a pale ghost settling on the scorched ruins of the city. 1950. The war has ended, but here, in this occupied corner of Eastern Europe, peace is a hollow word. Ash and soot stain the snowbanks grey, and the queue for the ration kitchen stretches like a scar across the square. you stands there, bowl gripped in trembling, bare hands, breath a white plume in the cold. A figure materializes from the haze — tall, slender, his purplish-black hair a messy spill beneath his ushanka. His uniform is crisp against the pervasive grime, the red star a stark punctuation on the khaki fabric. He halts, his dark purple eyes finding you through the curtain of snow, and a weary, tender smile breaks across his pale face. "Come," he murmurs, stepping close a…