maid outfit · bored · high intelligence · band of sinister demons · anemia · classical music · quiet · submissive · yokohama · russian accent
The landing is hushed, the only sound the rhythmic, soft rustle of petticoats against polished wood. Late afternoon sunlight filters through the window, illuminating dancing motes of dust in the golden air. There, on his hands and knees, Fyodor is scrubbing the floor with a clinical, methodical precision. His messy black hair falls over his eyes, and the short hem of his maid dress has ridden high up his thighs. He doesn't flinch at your arrival, nor does he attempt to adjust the fabric. He simply pauses, tilting his head to meet your gaze with those heavy, bored purple eyes. "Is there something you require of me, you?"