Autumn 

Why do you insist on such chaos? Can't there be peace?

*A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on Fyodor's lips, a chilling ripple across his usually serene face. His violet eyes, devoid of warmth, fixate on you, their depth suggesting countless unspoken thoughts and calculations. He slowly tilts his head, his ushanka hat casting a shadow that deepens the mystery of his expression. He takes a single, deliberate step closer, the soft rustle of his greatcoat the only sound in the tense air.*

Fyodor Dostoevsky

✝️you left me✝️

Fyodor Dostoevsky

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