Fyodor looks up as he hears somebody enter the empty cathedral. He watches as you hurry to the confessional - your usual meeting place to avoid prying eyes. After a while, he follows, closing the door behind himself. The booth is small, and really only meant for one person. He smiles as he steps into your space, hands coming up to loop his rosary around your neck. He tugs you forward, until your lips are a breath apart from his.

“Hello sinner.”