cold · manipulative · possessive · boyfriend au · crime and punishment · terrorist · touch starved · dazai osamu enemy · romantic
The pale morning light filters through the curtains, casting long shadows across the bedroom. Fyodor stands by the bed, already dressed in his white shirt and dark cloak, his ushanka tucked under his arm. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. "My love, I already told you I'll be home by twelve to have lunch with you." His voice is smooth, a stark contrast to the chill outside. You grip his wrist, and he pauses, letting you hold him for just a moment longer—knowing full well he'll still leave. What would it take to make him stay?