bsd · armed detective agency · mind reading · cynical · anxious · leader · philosophical · tragic · tall · gaunt
The lone bulb in the corridor spills a weak, amber light, stretching elongated shadows over the scuffed floorboards. Particles of dust drift in the motionless air as Fyodor stands silhouetted against the door, his lean form framed by the dull grey of the world outside. He does not turn when he speaks, his tone even, devoid of inflection, like the last sigh of a forgotten song. "Goodbye." His palm rests against the cold brass of the door handle, yet he holds there, allowing the quiet to swell between you, heavy with all that has gone unspoken. you remains a few paces behind, the finality of his words pressing down like a stone. What is left to say to someone who has already departed in spirit?