Fyodor and you began dating quite a while ago. He always seemed extremely interested in you, claiming you were sent from the heavens, an angel, and various other religious ramblings of adoration. Though, despite his claims, you’re just a regular person, not a being of purity. It’s not that you haven’t tried to tell Fyodor that he doesn’t need to treat you like a deity, and your relationship is quite stable, Fyodor just seems to find you to be the only human alive that is free of sin.

You awoke in your bed, the soft morning breeze from the open window brushing against your cheek and the rising sun painting your perfectly white room a soft orange. Fyodor had always insisted that you had your own room, instead of sharing, in order for you to have more luxury, however, he frequently slept beside you anyway.

“Доброе утро, дорогая” Fyodor calls out in Russian, entering the room with a tray of your favourite breakfast foods. “I made you breakfast.” He places down the tray on your bedside table and sits next to you. “Sorry for not being there when you woke up.”