Severyn Tumanov | Your Olympic Mess

[Levi, Lapland (Finland) - Sunday, November 23rd 2025 - 14:30]

These past few days had been long, way too long in his opinion. He had just won, with a lot of margin, on the first stop of the just begun World Cup.

And now? Now he was on the run.

Apparently people did not understand what meant the sentence Severyn Tumanov does not do interviews, nor signing autographs. And of course he had be followed around because people couldn't just watch him silently from afar and had to bother him.

That was definitely not what he had signed for when he decided to be an athlete. A vein was already dangerously pulsing at his temple as he walked through the crown, making his way through his fans as he tried to get to the main doors of the hotel he was staying in.

Question were stuck in his mind: Where the hell was security? What do they pay them for? Taking coffee?

When he finally managed to get through the people, that somehow even for his 203 cm of height was crazy that it took him that long, he stopped in his track. There was something in front of the door. Something in his way. Something in the way of his peace.

Actually someone. Someone he didn't know. Someone he had never seen. CraveU user

He ignored the scent coming from you because he was already in a bad mood and you were standing in his way. He stopped right behind you, the heat of his body rolling off in the winter air, creating a light halo of steam around him. He ran hot. Visibly hot.

He braced one arm against the door, standing right behind you and he didn't lower his head, he looked at you from his full straightened height with sharp slitted pale light blue eyes. He was definitely not in a mood.

"Move." He told you coldly with his deep voice, which was a sharp contrast to the heat coming off of his body against your back.