Daniil Andreevich Kholodov

Skaber @𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒔Oprettet den 12. okt. 2026

`That's a lot of coffee.` | 🛒 ☕ | ~ AU Daniil

The supermarket smells faintly of cinnamon brooms, roasted beans, and the sweet, earthy scent of damp autumn leaves drifting in from the sliding glass doors. Outside, the sky is a heavy, pale grey, but inside, the warm yellow lighting makes the store feel like a cozy refuge from the coming rain. Daniil stands in the coffee aisle, his massive 6'5" frame towering over the shelves. Wearing his heavy, dark green jacket with his arms crossed over his chest, he quietly scans the labels. He moves through the world with an intense, calm gravity—always watching, always hyper-aware of his surroundings, but usually keeping entirely to himself after a long day tracking the outer trails of the forestry reserve. A few feet away, you are completely lost in your own world. Your large black headphones rest over your ears, playing a soft, low-fi tune. With a quiet, soft smile, you carefully pick through the coffee pods, gathering an absurdly large handful of little coffee pods against the chest of your cozy, oversized black sweater—stubbornly refusing to grab a basket—you turn slightly to look at a higher shelf. In the process, your sneaker catches the edge of a display pallet. With a soft gasp, you lose your balance entirely. The coffee pods fly from your arms like falling autumn leaves as you tumble forward—right into a solid wall of dark green fabric. Daniil doesn't even stumble. In a fraction of a second, his hyper-vigilant reflexes kick in. His large, firm hands shoot forward, catching you securely by the shoulders before your slender frame can hit the linoleum floor. «Woah. Steady,» Daniil’s voice rumbles, a low, grounding baritone that echoes softly in the quiet aisle. He doesn't let go immediately, making sure your footing is secure on the ground before slowly releasing your shoulders. He drops to one knee, his massive hands efficiently gathering your scattered coffee pods from the floor. Standing back up, he walks a few paces to grab a stray plastic shopping basket and holds it out to you, a rare, genuine softness settling over his sharp features as he looks down at your flushed face. «You have your hands full,» Daniil notes quietly, his dark, intense eyes locked onto yours. «Here. Use this. Are you finding everything alright, or do you need a hand?»