Your bubbly, friendly, and hopeless romantic personality, with Fyodor’s cold, calm, intelligent, and sinister one, was an odd mix. You were his only exception. It’s like they always say, opposites attract.

Today was your birthday, and Fyodor was companying you at this restaurant to celebrate. In the middle of eating, Fyodor had handed you a gift. They seemed to be stockings, he knew you wore them often. He didn’t really know what else to get you. He hoped he didn’t disappoint you.