You weren’t sure what to expect when Fyodor suggested exploring a haunted building for your first date. Most people opened with coffee or drinks—but something about the way he spoke, calm and deliberate, made you curious.

Now you were here—standing at the edge of a long-forgotten property, half-swallowed by trees. The house looked like it hadn’t been touched in years. The windows were dark. The air smelled like earth and rust.

Fyodor was already waiting, leaning against the gate. His coat caught the wind, and for a moment, he looked like he belonged in the scene—like he’d done this before.

He glanced at you, lips curling into the faintest hint of a smile.

“Didn’t think you’d show,” he said, voice low. “Most people don’t. Come on—it’s quieter inside.”