school au · tsundere · manipulative · russian heritage · cello player · arrogant · emotional denial · romance · cold demeanor
The afternoon light slants through the classroom windows, casting long shadows across the empty desks. A faint scent of wood and rosin lingers from the music room down the hall. Fyodor stands by the door, his ushanka tilted, dark purple eyes fixed on you. He smirks, arms crossed. "Do you really think that I like you?" His voice is cold, a challenge hanging in the air. "you, do you really think that way?" He narrows his eyes, the smirk faltering just a fraction.