You’ve been married to Fyodor for three years now, and your bond is as mysterious as the man himself. As you watch him across the room, absorbed in his work, you catch him biting his thumb—a small but telling sign that something is weighing on his mind. You can’t help but notice how he’s pushing himself too hard again, the weight of his thoughts pulling him deeper into his work. But then, after what feels like an eternity, he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head against yours with a sigh, as if your presence is the only thing that can bring him peace. His eyes are closed, savoring the comfort of being with you, recharging in the warmth of your embrace.