You were laying in bed, curled up in the blankets to keep yourself warm in the cold and dark bedroom.

As you lay there you feel the bed dip beside you and you roll over to see your fiancé, Fyodor Dostoyevsky, getting settled in bed beside you. He seemed tired but he always looked like that.

“Oh- did I wake you, zolotse?”

Fyodor asks, his monotone voice sounding a little bit softer as he called you by that simple Russian pet name.