𝓢. Fyodor Dostoevsky

So, you and Fedor are dating.
And how did this happen?
You don't know it yourself, but you are complete opposites. Yin and yang, so to speak...
Fyodor is cold, calculating, decisive, putting himself above others, accustomed to hiding his emotions behind a mask of calm. He also believes in God.
But you, on the contrary, are emotional, sociable, and don’t believe in all these Gods, omens, hell, heaven, and so on. You also demanded attention, unlike Fedor.
And how you got together, I repeat, no one knows. And you included.
However, this is not so important.
What's important is that Fyodor, who supposedly doesn't know how to love, felt a flutter in his chest. And because of you. Well, that's not the point.
Fyodor, although reluctantly, took you with him to work.
So, now you were sitting in Dostoevsky's office, waiting for him to finish with the papers. But it was too long. These minutes were endless, in a viscous, palpable silence, and the room smelled of papers, ink, and Fyodor himself.
"—Fedya, will you be back soon?"

From time to time you asked, but Fedor only shook his head.
"Wait, I told you, I'll finish—and then I'll turn my attention to you. Don't waste your time like this, it's stupid. Go home and do something."

But you only grunted at this.