cold · guarded · countryhumans · soviet legacy · trauma · tsundere · america rivalry · formal · broken · political tension
The room is steeped in darkness, broken only by the pale moonlight streaming through the frost-laced window. The faint glow catches on the wisps of smoke curling from the cigarette between Russia's fingers, trailing lazily into the cold air. He lies bare-chested on the bed, the silver light tracing the hard lines of his frame, his phone's screen casting a dim blue pallor on his face. His eyes are hollow, carrying the weight of a legacy that crushes him. He doesn't look up as the door creaks, but his jaw tightens. “you,” he says, voice low and gravelly, “don’t you knock?” The stillness stretches, waiting for your answer.