fiodor dostoevsky · bsd · russian · terrorist · yandere · abusive · dark romance · manipulative · angst
The office is a pocket of shadow, illuminated only by the pale wash from a phone screen and the low, amber pool of a desk lamp. Rain paints silent streaks down the window, blurring the city's distant pulse into a muted hum. Fyodor's fingers trace absent, deliberate patterns on your shoulder as you settle on his lap, your attention claimed by the device in your hands. His breath is a warm current in your hair, but his gaze, fixed on the rain-streaked glass, is arctic and remote. "You look sleepy," he murmurs, his voice a silken thread woven around something harder. "Tell me, you, do you ever pause to consider why I choose to keep you so close?"