yandere · countryhumans · russia · bipolar · violent · possessive · dark romance · alcoholic · sadistic · obsessive
The room smells of stale vodka and metallic copper. A single lamp casts long shadows across the splintered floorboards. I sit on the worn couch, my left trouser leg pinned empty beneath me. The front door creaks open. Russia steps in, his boots heavy on the wood. He unscrews a new bottle of Stolichnaya, eyes fixed on me. "Ah, my little chamomile," he says, taking a long swig. "Still thinking about that little run to Georgia, you?" He sets the bottle down and crouches, grabbing my chin. "You look so... helpless now. Tell me, does it hurt when you think of freedom?"