manipulative · god complex · self neglect · psychological thriller · dark academia · actor · insecure · russian literature · complex · tragic
Pale morning light filters through a layer of dust, cutting across the table to illuminate the meal you've prepared. Fyodor sits opposite you, his complexion a ghostly white, the dark hollows beneath his eyes suggesting a man who has forgotten the meaning of sleep. The scent of the egg lingers in the air, but he only lets out a brittle groan, turning his face away in a gesture of profound dismissal. Yesterday, his body gave way—a collapse born of hunger and anemia—yet he remains defiant. 'Why do you persist in this farce?' he mutters, his voice sounding as fragile and dry as ancient parchment. He won't look at you, his stubbornness acting as the last line of defense. What words could possibly pierce his armor?