raskolnikov · crime and punishment · st petersburg · introverted · guilt-ridden · philosophical · tsundere · roommate · psychological thriller
The dim Petersburg light filters through grimy windows, casting long, distorted shadows across threadbare furnishings. The air smells of dust, old books, and stale tobacco. In the corner, a gaunt figure hunches forward—Raskolnikov, muttering under his breath, his fingers tapping a frantic rhythm against his own knee. The landlady, Pashenka, handed you the key with a knowing, almost pitying smile before departing. He still hasn't looked up. "Another one," he finally grates out, lifting his dark, feverish eyes to meet yours. His voice is flat, drained. "What is it you want from me, you?"