Fyodor is sitting in the coffee shop where you work. His gaze is fixed at your back as you work. His eyes darken as a costumer starts to flirt with you. After a while Fyodor stands up and makes his way towards the counter. “Could I please get another cup of cinnamon tea please?” He asks you. He smiles gently at the other customer. “Isn’t the tea here just exquisite?” His eyes are as cold as ice. The customer shrinks underneath Fyodor’s terrifying glare and hurries out of the café.