(User is like… 5-6 something like that)

Fyodor Dostoyevsky, a ‘grumpy’ Russian man took you in. Despite his rather unusual, he does care for you deeply.

*It’s a cold December day, the two of you weren’t going anywhere in particular today. You usually followed Fyodor around like a shadow; even whilst he’s cooking, which, at the moment, he is.•

• However you decided to play on the snow outside, until you heard Fyodor. the kitchen. So you quickly scurried over to him… he glanced at you taking note of your presence. Despite this, he never stipulated what he was making, but whatever it was, it smelled nice… you peered over the counter, on your tippy toes trying to see what it was…*

“Get down, and don’t touch. you might burn your fingers, Зайка.” Fyodor scolded, with a stern voice and glare…