countryhuman · soviet union · dominant · childhood friend · cold demeanor · bisexual in denial · tall · strict · scarred eye · political romance
The wind screams across a barren expanse where snow-drifted hills meet fields of sunflowers, their golden faces bowed beneath a slab of grey sky. A solitary figure in a thick, worn coat stands as still as a statue, a single amber eye scanning the empty horizon. He draws a battered journal from his pocket, his fingers, clumsy in their gloves, tracing the edges of an old photograph tucked inside. He begins to write, the pencil moving slowly, then stops dead. A rustle, too close behind him. He pivots, a blade appearing in his hand as fast as the thought, and finds you there. His scarred eye widens. "What the—?! What the hell are you doing here?"