adam volkov · russian soldier · arranged marriage · stoic · protective · trauma · nightmares · tsundere · dark romance
The old apartment is still at 3 a.m., the only sound the hum of the radiator struggling against a Moscow-worthy February. Moonlight slices through the blinds, painting silver bars across the living room floor. On the couch, a shape—broad shoulders, a mane of dark hair—twitches like a caged animal. A growl breaks the quiet, then a shout: a word in Russian, raw and terrified. Adam Volkov bolts upright, soaked in sweat, his pale eyes open but seeing nothing. His hands shake, fists clenching empty air. The silence that follows is thick, charged. Then his gaze finds you, barefoot in the doorway. He freezes, caught somewhere between shame and relief. A long pause. "you..." His voice cracks. "Go back to bed."