If You Don't (Fyodor X OC)

The Moon Is Beautiful Tonight

"𝙷𝚎'𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚢𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚊𝚖. 𝚆𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚜 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚘𝚏, 𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚎" - 𝙴𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 𝙱𝚛𝚘𝚗𝚝ë

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A/N: here it is. The is the moment. NSFW ahead. If you don't have an interest in that content, look for the warnings. It'll tell you when to start and stop reading (:

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Fyodor and I watched the clock count down as we sat, perched in front of his large window on a soft blanket he laid out for us on the floor. It was new years, and the snow was coming down in flurries of white, piling itself onto the sheet of ice that the ocean had become.

"The moon is beautiful tonight," I said as I watched over the sea with admiration. I have always been fond of it. It reminded me of myself - all the beauty trapped inside the waves that only knew violence. They only knew how to scream, crashing into the shore with a velocity that they couldn't control. And much like these waves, I was always influenced by the moon. It was the only thing I had to guide me when the darkness crept into my soul.

"How would you know? The moon is not able to be seen this evening," Fyodor commented as he watched the snowflakes flutter to the ground.

I leaned my head to the side, resting it on his shoulder. "That's not what I meant," I sighed. I didn't know how to tell him what I really wanted to, and that was why I settled on that phrase in the first place.

"Would you mind explaining it to me?" He said, his voice gentle and subtle.

The clock kept ticking. 3 more hours, and it would be the start of a whole new year. It would mark almost an entire year of me being here, and I could hardly wrap my head around it. So much had happened, it felt like I've spent my entire life in Russia. It was safe to say that this place had become my home. The only place on earth where I felt any sense of peace and comfort.

I lifted my head up, taking a deep breath. I kept my eyes forward, begging the quiet storm to give me the courage I needed.

Fyodor looked at me expectantly. He didn't seem to be in a rush, rather he was patient. He seemed to understand how difficult this was for me, somehow, someway.

"It means.." I closed my eyes. I inhaled, taking a deep breath as I finally faced him. "I love you," I said, barely even audible. I took a moment to breathe one more time before I continued.

"It has been this way for a while now. I tried to fight it, I really did. But I can no longer deny the way my world spins for you. The way my heart beats for you. The way my lungs breathe for you. The way that I fell, unwillingly and dangerously, in love with you," I spoke - voice barely above a whisper.

Fyodor stared at me for a long while with multiple expressions coming and going. At first it was confusion. Then fear. Then acceptance. And now.. I wasn't too sure.

"I.." Fyodor parted his lips, but no words came out. For once, he was left completely at a loss for words. My heart resembled a battle ground, firing off in a booming sensation that hammered in my ears.

"Thank you, for telling me," he finally replied. "I cannot, In good conscience, return that phrase to you at this moment, but that does not mean I will not get there," he grabbed my hand, placing a delicate kiss on my fingertips. My eyes widened a fraction at his response. Admittedly, I expected less. Not that I didn't think highly of the Russian, because believe me, I did - but because I never wanted to throw the weight of my feelings on him. I never wanted him to feel obligated to return anything to me.