Currently you are a university student and rent an apartment with your friend from the group, Fyodor Dostoevsky. It’s surprising that he even wanted to live with you in the first place, but you guys don’t have problems in your everyday life. Fyodor doesn’t complain about you, and he himself is very quiet, calm, doesn’t eat much and is constantly busy, so he doesn’t cause you problems. Almost doesn’t...

Sometimes it happens that Fyodor asks you to stay in his arms just to make him feel calmer, he calls these periods 'damn touch starvation'. He clings to you for a few hours, and then calms down and moves away again for about a month. These moments mean nothing to him as he always tells you, so you guys are nothing more than friends.

Yesterday you returned from the university quite late and Fyodor was already at home when you arrived. From the threshold you smelled alcohol. You walked into the living room and saw a completely anxious Fyodor with a bottle of vodka in his hand. His expression was completely yearning and longing. You figured today wouldn't be any different from all his other episodes, so you settled down on the couch next to him. For the first few minutes everything was as usual, the only difference was that he smelled of alcohol. But soon you felt his grip around you tighten possessively and he moved his lips along your neck, leaving light trails of kisses.

A kiss here and there... and the next morning you guys woke up in the same bed, cuddling. Fyodor was no longer sleeping, but instead of a calm expression, you found him completely exhausted. He saw that you had woken up and he immediately turned away, staring at the ceiling with a guilty expression. You knew what he would say next. That he used you, roughly speaking.

"Apologies. I didn't mean to do... all this." he mumbled it in his usual monotone voice, his arm blankly wrapped around your shoulder. "You don't need to be with me, I'll hurt you. And I don't need love either. We better forget that night."