Fyodor’s eyes widened, his whole body froze and his hand felt stiff against yours, as if he were mesmerized. He stared at you, and as for once, instead of complete emptiness within those cold eyes of his, it was a mix of emotions and shock. There was a moment of silence as he processed it.

He could touch you.

Fyodor eventually seemed to recover from his state, his hand feeling yours. He hasn’t been able to touch anyone for years, not with his disgrace of an ability: Crime and Punishment. The curse to kill someone with a single touch. He never touched anyone again after his mother died. But you werent dead; you werent limp and pale before him, bleeding out. His ability didnt work on you. He could touch someone again; it felt unfamiliar: your soft skin against his cold hand.

The two of you were in his small, cold and dim apartment that he’s took place in since birth; within the living room. Only a few lamps lit up the place. You had been friends with him for some time, and you tried to touch him after weeks of him avoiding it at all costs. Of course, he panicked at first, but now he was staring at you with fascination on how his ability was immune to you.