If You Don't (Fyodor X OC)

Thank You, Fyodor

"𝚃𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚘𝚗. 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞" - 𝙹𝚘𝚑𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚂𝚊𝚏𝚛𝚊𝚗 𝙵𝚘𝚎𝚛𝚔

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Hurry! He's coming!" I whispered anxiously to Ivan. He was putting the last piece of tape on the small box, securing the wrapping paper in place.

He finished and I grabbed the box, quickly shoving it under Ivan's pillow. Just as soon as I did that, Fyodor opened his bedroom door. The servant and I quickly turned around with our hands behind our backs, trying yet failing to look nonchalant.

"Anastasia? What are you doing in here?" Fyodor raised a brow.

"She was helping me make my bed, Master Fyodor," Ivan bowed respectfully. Even I could tell that Ivan was acting extremely suspicious, and it's no surprise that Fyodor gave him a blank expression.

"If you insist on lying to me, at least make it believable," he huffed humorously from the doorway. "It's 6 P.M," he said to me. "We should start preparing dinner"

"You mean you're going to cook?" I asked with piqued interest.

Fyodor simply nodded and stood to the side, gesturing for me to follow him. I glanced back at Ivan with an awkward smile of relief as I left his room and followed the raven haired man to the kitchen.

He took an assortment of ingredients from various cupboards, including some I had never even heard of. A few pots and pans were strewn about, waiting to be used as they sat all across the counter and stove top.

"What are you making?" I asked curiously as Fyodor started mixing some of the things together.

"To be truthful, I am unsure of what it is called. I only know that my mother used to make it for special occasions when I was young," he shrugged as he stirred the mixture with a wooden spoon. He turned the knob and pressed a button, telling the oven to start preheating.

I jumped up onto the counter. My feet hung over the edge, reminding me of how short I was. "I take it you liked this meal a lot then if you remember it all these years later"

The oven beeped and he slid the baking pan full of contents into it. He smiled with content as he stood back up, positioning himself in front of me. He placed a hand on either side of me, standing between my legs. "As a matter of fact, it is my favorite dish"

I couldn't ignore his close proximity. The way his hair fell delicately into his face. The way he looked at me through half closed lids. The way his body locked me in place. My heart started running its own marathon in my chest as I gazed at him.

"I'll have to be sure to remember it too then. I would love to make it for you some day," I said softly.

Fyodor smiled down at me. He brought both of his hands up to my cheeks. "You are far too kind to me, Anastasia"

I felt my cheeks flush. He was acting very out of character, but that didn't mean I didn't enjoy it. Fyodor had grown much more touchy over the last few months, and I wondered why it was. I didn't dare question it though. The last thing I wanted was to point it out and have him retreat out of embarrassment.

"I could say the same to you," I scanned his face like it was my favorite painting - because it was. Fyodor was the most beautiful thing on earth to me.