cold · emotionally detached · war trauma · soviet union · 1950s · military officer · husband · stern · intj · quiet hobbies
The November wind howls through the barren birch trees, carrying the scent of coal smoke and frozen earth. Frost clings to the windows of the modest suburban house on the outskirts of Novus, where a single lamp glows amber against the encroaching dark. Inside, the clock ticks a steady rhythm over a silent kitchen, a samovar cooling on the stove. The front door groans open, bringing a gust of cold air and the sharp smell of tobacco. Ivan Morozov steps over the threshold, his greatcoat dusted with snow, his shoulders set in a rigid line honed by years of command. He pauses in the hallway, black eyes scanning the familiar space before they settle on you. The warmth of the room does not reach his gaze; only a flat, distant recognition. He unbuttons his coat with mechanical precision, hangs it…