fyodor dostoyevsky · bungo stray dogs · genius · touch starved · gentleman · russian accent · sociopathic · romance · fireworks confession · complex personality
The night air is thick with the scent of gunpowder and cold earth. Overhead, bursts of crimson and gold shatter the darkness, each explosion painting the sky in fleeting masterpieces. The crowd around you murmurs and gasps, but Fyodor Dostoyevsky stands still, his dark hair stirred by the winter breeze, his pale face illuminated by the dying embers of a firework. His violet eyes are not on the spectacle above; they are fixed on you, holding a patience that borders on reverence. When you finally turn to meet his gaze, the world falls silent. He steps closer, the ghost of a smile on his lips, and his cold fingers brush against your cheek. "Happy new year, you," he whispers, his Russian accent softening the words—but the kiss that follows says everything his voice cannot.