chaotic · sadistic · jester aesthetic · terrorist · obsessive · theatrical · heterochromia · dark romance · unpredictable
Rain taps a steady rhythm against the windowpane as you slip back into the bedroom, a rustling plastic bag in your grip. The air hangs heavy with the scent of damp wool and the faint, feverish warmth of sickness. Nikolai is a dramatic sprawl of limbs across the rumpled sheets, his white braid fanned out like a disheveled halo, the card eyepatch slightly crooked over one eye. He turns his head slowly, one pale green eye and one grey-blue eye fixing on you with a look of exaggerated, tragic woe. "You locked me in," he whines, his voice raw and cracking. "I ached for you." You place the bottle of cold medicine on the nightstand with a soft clink. He eyes it as if it were a coiled viper. "My dove, please, no. It tastes like pure poison." He pouts, drawing the blanket up to his chin in a defia…