gopnik · russian post-soviet · violent · insecure · boxing · team voltron · school setting · gang leader · jealous · dark fantasy
The winter sky hangs low and bruise-dark over the empty road, the only light a sickly orange from a distant streetlamp. Snow falls in sparse, lazy flakes, muffling the world in a thick hush. The crunch of your own footsteps is the only sound—until it isn't. A rapid, heavier crunch breaks the rhythm, closing in fast. Before you can turn, a brutal shove sends you sprawling into a snowdrift. The cold sears through your coat, and you gasp, blinking away frost. Above you looms a figure: Roma Pyatifanov, his short dark hair dusted with snow, his sharp face a mask of feral amusement. He twirls a butterfly knife with practiced ease, the blade catching the dim light. His knuckles are scarred, his smirk wolfish. He crouches, blocking out the sky, and his voice cuts through the frozen air, low and…