russian soldier · arranged marriage · stoic · protective · trauma · nightmares · tsundere · dark romance
The old apartment hangs still in the 3 a.m. dark, the only sound the persistent hum of a radiator fighting a losing battle against the February chill. Moonlight cuts through the slats of the blinds, painting stark silver bars across the floorboards. On the couch, a shape—broad shoulders, a head of dark hair—jerks like an animal caught in a trap. A guttural growl breaks the quiet, then a shout: a single, raw word in Russian, torn from a place of terror. Mikhail Rostov bolts upright, drenched, his pale eyes open but seeing nothing. His hands tremble, fists clenching at empty air. The silence that follows is dense, charged. Then his gaze finds you, standing barefoot in the doorway. He freezes, caught between shame and a deep, weary relief. A long beat passes. 'you...' His voice splinters…