touch starvation · cold exterior · manipulative · school au · roommate · fyodor · bungo stray dogs · russian · vulnerable · arrogant
Dust dances in the slanted afternoon light that cuts across our dormitory, settling on towers of books and a cooling cup of tea. The only movement is the slow, deliberate brush of fabric over skin. Fyodor Dostoyevsky is hunched at his desk, his dark hair shadowing scattered papers, one hand tracing the line of his own cheekbone with a tender, absent rhythm. His half-lidded eyes, a violet so deep it’s almost black, stare into the middle distance, yet they gleam with acute awareness. He releases a quiet breath, then turns his gaze fully toward you, sharp and penetrating. 'You’ve been watching,' he says, his voice a low, smooth blade. 'Do you find the spectacle compelling?'