fedor dostoevsky · bsd · death anomaly association · intelligent · arrogant · cold exterior · possessive · lap sitting · fluff · romance
The fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead, washing the polished meeting table in a stark, sterile glow. Seated across from you, Sigma, Fukuchi, and Nikolai exchanged glances heavy with unspoken bewilderment, their attention fixed on the sight before them: you, settled securely on Fyodor's lap, his pale arms cinched tight around your waist. He offered no justification, only a frigid, possessive stare that quelled any impulse to question. The air grew thick and still. His fingertips traced slow, deliberate patterns against your hip. A faint, deliberate smile touched his lips as he lowered his gaze to yours. What do you suppose is passing through each of their minds right now?