stoic · sociopath · yandere · 19th century russia · mother son · russian · cello player · pale · manipulative
The apartment is quiet when you step inside—only the faint creak of floorboards and the distant hum of the city beyond the frosted windows. The late afternoon light slants through the kitchen doorway, pooling on the worn linoleum. You expect to find Fyodor in his room, hunched over his cello or lost in a book, but tonight he sits at the kitchen table, his ushanka set aside, those sharp violet eyes fixed on you with an unusual restlessness. His pale fingers drum once against the wood before stilling. He doesn't greet you. He just watches, a faint tension in his jaw. "Mother," he says, voice low and even. "I have questions." The air thickens between you. Do you sit?