"𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 - 𝚘𝚏 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚛𝚏𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚔𝚎𝚎𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎, 𝚒𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝙸'𝚕𝚕 𝚍𝚛𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖" - 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚑𝚊𝚜𝚎
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
I could feel my body ache as the sun blinded me through the cracks in the curtains. I sighed heavily at the inconvenience, and turned the opposite direction in my bed.
"You're awake!" Niklaus's voice was naturally loud, but it was even more annoying with my pounding headache.
"Please, Niklaus. Quiet down" I groaned into my pillow. I could feel my long black hair scattered all over my face, and my limbs were tangled in the bed sheets in a chaotic matter.
I could hear Klaus's footsteps as he neared the edge of my bed, and I peeled my eyes open to look at him. He smiled at me, though his eyes screamed of some sort of relief. "Sorry," he said. "I was just worried about you"
"For what?" I glared at him. I felt like death, and his pestering was making it a million times worse.
"Do you not remember?" He asked with wide eyes, and I furrowed mine in turn.
"Remember what?"
Niklaus turned towards the doorway as we both hear footsteps coming down the hall. They were soft - elegant. I knew those footsteps anywhere.
And just like that, it hit me. Ivan, the snake, my ability, and.. Fyodor.. the way he looked at me.. discarded me, even. It was a pain I was all too familiar with, and it was settling down inside my chest, making a bed out of my bones.
Fyodor stopped in the doorway and gazed at me. He wore no expression, making it impossible to tell what he was thinking. If I was to be realistic, I would say I was surprised he hadn't killed me yet. I was sure he would.
"You look well," he commented bluntly. His voice was quiet, yet it carried so much weight.
"I don't feel it," I told him truthfully.
Niklaus glanced back and fourth between us, seeming to catch the hint. He gave a small wave and an awkward, half assed smile as he left, and nodded in Fyodors direction on his way out. I found that to be quite odd, considering he didn't have a very good opinion of the Russian.
The raven haired man nodded back as some sort of silent form of gratitude, and took slow strides towards my side. "I expected as much," he said with his usual thick Russian accent.
To say I was confused would be an understatement. I used my arms to force myself up into a sitting position. The blanket slid off my shoulders and I looked down at myself with furrowed brows. These aren't the clothes I was wearing.
"I can imagine you are very disoriented and confused right now. I apologize. If you would like me to elaborate on what happened in your absence, I would be happy to do so," Fyodor said calmly as stood. He looked down at me with the most stoic expression I've ever seen him give. Almost as if he were trying to keep himself composed.
"Why am I alive?" I asked, surprising even myself with the suddenness of it.
He narrowed his eyes with curiosity. "You awaken after an entire week of fighting to survive, and that is the first question you have?"
I blinked. "Well.. yeah.. I assumed you would have killed me by now"
Fyodor closes his eyes and I could hear a soft sigh escape him. He gestured a hand towards the edge of my bed. "May I?"
I nodded, and he sat down. "Your assumptions are fair and warranted. Though I have no intentions of doing that"
"Why not? I'm an ability user, and you know that now.." I trailed off. I couldn't stand to look at him anymore, so I turned my head away. All I could see was the hatred he harbored in that hallway. It was like watching my own soul shatter on repeat.
"Yes, I am aware," he said monotonously.
"The way you looked at me... treated me.." I mumbled, mostly thinking out loud.
Fyodor sighed once more, bringing his hand up. I watched it carefully as he used the back of his fingertips to graze my cheeks. "I am sorry. I was cruel, and irrational. You deserved better behavior from me"
I watched him cautiously. Carefully. I thought I knew Fyodor well, yet he always seemed to defy whatever beliefs I had in him. Usually in a good way, but the change in his morals had me questioning everything now.
"However, Anastasia, you must stop hiding things from me. I have done my best not to pry out of respect for our contract and your freedom, but that has proven to be problematic," his gaze hardened as he looked at me. His hand stopped moving briefly before he pulled it back into his lap.
And there it was. The reaction I was more accustomed to. The Fyodor that would, and should have taken offense to my evasive behavior.
"I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to hide anything from you," I wanted to say more - to explain myself. I knew though, that he didn't want an excuse, he wanted changed behavior. I couldn't even blame him. Twice now, I had betrayed him. And twice, he had forgiven me. I don't think he will ever offer a third.
Fyodor nods. "I know" his tone was soft. Gentle. Even if his watchful eyes weren't. "Niklaus has done well to inform me of what I needed to know, likely even offering too much insight"
I raised a brow. Too much? What could my brother have possibly done now? "Such as?"
"It does not matter. All that matters now is that you recover," he gave a warm smile as he stood up from the bed.
"Wait," I called to him. He paused and turned to me. "Will you.. stay?"
The Russian bent his head down with acceptance. "If it will help you recover, then I do not mind"
I felt the smile grow against my will as I moved over in the bed, allowing him space. His typical white clothing blended into my bedding as he sat down. There was no way I'd be able to go back to sleep yet, so I opted for grabbing a remote that was on the nightstand next to my bed.
"You are supposed to rest," Fyodor commented as I turned the tv on and starting prowling for something to watch.
I chuckled lightly. "This is resting. I don't need to be sleeping to relax"
He didn't say anything, just watching me scroll through endless channels until I landed on an American one. The only American channel I've been able to find. 6 feet apart was playing, and it was already halfway over, but I clicked on it anyways.
"What is this movie about?" Fyodor inquired. It was adorable. He hardly ever watched the tv outside of the Russian news stations, so he probably was just trying to understand the intrigue that came with regular tv.
"It's about these people who are both chronically ill. They aren't allowed to touch each other, or they could give each other an illness that would kill them"
Fyodor frowned. "That's not a very good idea for a movie. The solution is quite simple. Do not touch each other," he stated with obvious confusion.
I couldn't help but to laugh. "It's not really that simple though. They end up falling in love with each other, and that makes them not want to stay away"
He nods as he seems to process. I can tell he still doesn't quite understand, but I couldn't really blame him. I don't think he had ever been in love, so how would he know?
He sat quietly through the movie with me, making comments here and there. He got much more interested as it went on, and it made me happy to see him be.. well.. normal.
"Fyodor?" I looked up at him as the ending credits rolled. The next movie was one I wasn't very interested in, so it would be the best time to go back to sleep.
He turned his head to me slightly, but remained fixated on the new movie. "Yes, Anastasia?" He said in a low voice.
"Would you mind if.. if I got closer?" I wasn't really sure how to tell him that I wanted to be held. I had truly thought I lost him. That there was no coming back from my mistake. How could I tell him that I needed him to hold me so that I could be sure that I didn't have the man I cherished torn from my fingertips? How could I possibly tell him that, without confessing what was likely to be my greatest sin?
Fyodor turned his attention entirely to me now with a curious expression. "If that is what will make you most comfortable," he said as he watched to see what I meant by that.
I moved closer, and I wrapped my arms around his waist. He lifted his arms up, and they hovered in the air above my back. He was clearly unsure of how to respond.
"Anastasia," he said my name with a rather blunt tone.
I didn't move. I couldn't, even if I wanted to. I layed on his chest, holding onto him with everything I had. It felt like if I were to let go, he would vanish.
"Anastasia," he said again, a little more stern this time. I could feel his body tense up under me as he grabbed my shoulders and forced me away from him.
I couldn't fight the tears that were welling up in my eyes. The sting of his rejection paired with the ceaseless fear of abandonment was overwhelming for me when I was in such a sorry state. I was ashamed of myself, to tell the truth. I was disgusted with my own need for him. My own desperation was beneath me, and yet..
"I don't think we should be close like that," he stated with a dark gaze. It wasn't a threat, but it might as well have been. It was as if he were threatening to rip the air from my lungs.
The tears slid down my cheeks as I looked at him, both hands on either side of his waist, trembling as they held my weight. They held up the pressure of both my body and my deplorable ambition.
He brought his hands to my cheeks, using the pads of his thumb to clean the tears from my face. "I do not mean it to be cruel, Milaya. I just do not believe it to be the best course of action for your well being"
My well being? How could he possibly think that pulling me away from him was the best? It was ironically, likely the worst thing he could do for me at that moment.
I shook my head. "You don't know that"
Fyodors eyes narrowed a fraction. "I didn't say that I knew it to be true. I merely believed it to be true, Anastasia. If I am wrong, you are welcomed to correct me, though I expect an explanation so that I may understand"
I felt my breath hitch. I was backed into a corner, albeit one he didn't intend to put me in. He didn't know how I felt, and that was no fault of his. No. This was entirely on me and my selfish heart.
"Respectfully, you are wrong. It is the best thing for me," my voice was barely above a whisper as I looked at him. His hair fell into his face, perfectly framing his lilac eyes and strong jawline. He was a man of grace, and beauty.
"Do tell me why," he scanned me with intrigue. His cold demeanor left as quickly as it came, and his grip on my shoulders softened.
"I.." my mouth opened but no words came out. Not for a minute, atleast. I imagine I resembled a trembling child in front of him - terrified of confessing my wrong doings.
He removed a hand and brought it to my chin, lifting my head up so that I couldn't avert his gaze like I had tried to. "You?"
I closed my eyes and took a breath. "I need the comfort of close company. It helps me to feel at ease," is what I settled on. It was pathetic, but I hoped that it would do.
Whether or not he understood me didn't seem to matter, because he accepted it anyways. He wrapped his arms around my back and pushed me back down against his chest as he slid lower on the bed so he was laying down entirely. "Is this suitable?"
I could hear his heartbeat in my ears. It was calm. Steady. Far more stable than my own. "Yes"
He took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. It was evident that he wasn't the most comfortable, but I was grateful. Not just for this gesture but for everything. His forgiveness, his kindness. The way his hands caressed my back in circular motions. The way his cold skin contrasted with the burning heat of my own. The way my legs rested between his. The way his eyes closed and his body relaxed under mine.
He pushed me up briefly, and leaned forward. "This is likely uncomfortable for you. Give me a moment," he said as he unbuckled his belt.
I would be lying if I said that my cheeks didn't grow red as I caught a glimpse of his hips as his shirt rolled up. His belt hit the floor with a small thud as he dropped it, and he gestured for me to lay back down.
He continued with his gentle caresses until his hand came to a pause on the higher part of my back, just between my shoulder blades.
"You told me this would be beneficial for you. Tell me why it is you insisted on deceiving me?" He said with disdain.
My eyes widened as my cheeks rested on his chest. "What are you talking about? I didn't lie"
"You mean to tell me that a rampant heart is healthy?"
My eyes went wide as I noticed what he was talking about. My pulse was rapid, and heavy in my ears. I wasn't quite sure how he could tell, but maybe that was the point. The fact that he could tell is probably what alarmed him.
"It's not always a bad thing," I said softly.
"Then why is your body tense?" He asked, pushing the pads of his fingers into the muscles around my shoulder blade to prove his point.
"Because you caught me off guard with your comment about my heartbeat," I nearly groaned. He was being particularly interested in my body language, more so than usual. It was very counterproductive.
"Because you were being deceitful," he said in a tone that made it seem like he was clarifying.
"No. Because I hadn't even realized it myself until you pointed it out"
"Then tell me, how is it healthy?"
I rolled my eyes and lifted myself up to look at him. He quickly made eye contact, and I cursed myself when I could hear my heart beat speed up even more.
He could clearly tell too, as his eyes narrowed. He was patient, but I knew it wouldn't last long if I didn't start explaining.
"It happens when someone is happy, too." I sighed.
His brows raised. "You are happy?"
"Of course. I'm always happy when I'm with you," I answered before I could think. Shit. Shit shit shit shit.
Fyodor looked deep in thought for a moment. I could picture the gears turning in his head. "Well then I suppose we may continue," he said with a hint of distrust in his tone. I sighed with relief as I put my head back down. Thank god.
It didn't take long for sleep to overcome me. I was still exhausted, and he brought a sense of warmth and comfort to my nightmare of a mind.