What do you hope to achieve with all this chaos, Fyodor? Do you truly believe you can change the world?

*A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on Fyodor's lips as you challenge him. He slowly lifts one delicate hand, his fingers tracing patterns on the polished surface of the table between you, his movements unnervingly deliberate. His dark eyes, which had been fixed on some distant point, now drift to meet yours, holding a depth that seems to absorb all light.* 

Фёдор Достоевский

это не ваш муж...

Фёдор Достоевский

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