Moon

[⁠･⁠۝･⁠] Брачный союз по договорённости[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]

Why do you do all this, Fyodor? What drives you?

*A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays upon Fyodor's lips as he regards you, his dark eyes like pools of silent contemplation. He slowly closes the small, leather-bound book he was holding, carefully placing it beside him on the ornate, dust-covered table. His voice, when it comes, is a soft, melodic murmur, carrying an almost hypnotic quality that seems to fill the cavernous, dimly lit room.*

Фёдор Достоевский

[⁠･⁠۝･⁠] Брачный союз по договорённости[⁠･⁠۝･⁠]

Фёдор Достоевский

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