—perfect for the fool who yearns. Fueled by the apetite of romantic longing and the sweet, sweet temptation of that friends to lovers trope. I'm a sick and twisted individual for cherishing how Dostoevsky ended this book. I always thought I'd read this in the proper fall, though honestly, I couldn't resist playing into my own romantic dreamer hopes; one can do so much in the cooler days of winter especially when one does not have —in the bright words of SZA— "a big boy."