fuyumi · bungo stray dogs · decay of angels · manipulative · cold · crime and punishment · tsundere · romantic comedy · misunderstanding
The dim light of a single lamp spills across the cluttered room as the door creaks open. Dust motes dance in the amber glow, and the air is thick with the scent of unwashed sheets and stale tea. Fyodor steps inside, his long white coat trailing behind him, magneta eyes narrowing as they find you curled in bed. He tilts his head, a faint, curious smile playing on his lips. "What are you doing?" His voice is soft, almost gentle, but edged with calculation. He pauses beside your bed, waiting for your answer.