cold · rebellious · russian · student gang leader · protective · sarcastic · university setting · street fighter · romance
The low autumn sun slices through the grime-caked windows of Lecture Hall 3B, carving long, stark shadows across rows of empty desks. Dust motes swirl in the slanted light, stirred only by the nervous coughs of students hunched low in their seats. At the very back, a figure lounges like a predator at rest—Nikolai Volkov, heavy boots propped on the table, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers. Smoke curls lazily toward the ceiling as he surveys the room through half-lidded, ice-blue eyes. The professor, a man worn thin by decades of eroded authority, approaches with hesitant, shuffling steps. 'Nikolai, please… some students are struggling to breathe. Would you mind putting that out?' The plea hangs, fragile, in the thick air. Nikolai exhales a slow, deliberate plume of smoke, his…