He is my liberty. Only him? (Fyodor x reader x Nikolai)

Where have you been?

You are surrounded by darkness. Nothing but a black void, a deafening silence. Not a single sound except your shaky breath and slight splash of the cold water you're bathed in. You're laying in a bathtub, filled with icy water, numbing your sense of physical feeling.

Even though you're the only person who's audible, you surely are not alone. Your back is pressed against a person's chest. A male person as you can feel. However, the person's body feels just as cold as the water surrounding you two.

You can't turn to see, who the person is. One of his arms is wrapped around your waist from behind. And even though it's holding you loosely, you don't think you could remove it even if you tried. 

Suddenly you hear footsteps coming towards the bathtub, but you couldn't make out who it was due to the darkness, almost like a black fog that let you see nothing through it. Though you know the steps are coming towards you, you don't know where they are coming from.

You look around, trying to make out the source of the steps, but suddenly you feel a freezing hand grab around your jaw with a tight grip, forcing your head to look straight forward. You see a figure approaching.

It seemingly was a man as well, coming towards the bathtub while carrying a rather big white bucket. You couldn't make out his face for some reason, but you could see his clothing. He wore a clown like outfit that still looked rather formal and consisted of the colours black and white.

He placed the bucket on the edge of the bathtub. Your already trembling body started to shiver even more from the cold and chilling feeling both of the men gave you. The standing man slowly tipped the bucket over, letting even more ice fall into the bath tub. The new wave of coldness made you shake even more.

Soon you passed out, probably from the hypothermia. The only thing you could remember the cold laughs and snickers coming from the both men.

You woke up, covered in cold sweat, taking a deep breath. Your body was still shivering, but not because it was cold. It was because of the dream... nightmare you just had. You sit up in your bed, turning your gaze to the window, taking a look outside. It wasn't completly night anymore, but the sky still had a dark colour and there were still some stars slightly visible.

You let out a sigh and shove your blanket off your body, hesitantly getting up. You walk to your closet, looking through the clothes you had in there. Mostly shirts, sweaters and pants you could wear to almost any occasion.

After changing from your pajamas into a blank pair of trousers and a dark grey sweater, you walk down the stairs into the kitchen. Your house was rather big. It stood on a lonely hill, no neighbours nearby. From the outside it make seem like a house without an owner, but that rather came from the fact that even though this was a house, build for a family, only one person lived inside these walls.

You had many diffrent rooms in your home, including an art and music room, a small library, an office and even a small ballroom. But your most important rooms were the ones under your house, underground. The basement rooms were like a secret hospital and you were the owner and the doctor as well as the nurse and the secretary. It was your hospital. Your clients? 

People who were not able to go to a regular hospitals. Criminals, people with a questionable background, people who wouldn't dare to go to a public hospital out of fear to be caught. In the underground world you were sometimes called the 'Angel'. And even though you found this name rather exaggerated, you appretiated the praise you got from these people.

Some people might find it morally questionable to help people with illegal business, but in your eyes everyone should have the right on medical treatment without any fear or stress. So you became some kind of underground doctor. This job was also mainly the reason for your wealth, if you might call it that.

At the moment you sat with a tea in your library, sitting on a windowsill, looking outside. The stormy weather and the dull, grey colour palette of the day made your mood rather relaxed, almost melancolic. The heat of the tea warmed up your usually cold hands, the warm steam rising in your face, warming your cool nose tip.

After drinking your tea, letting thoughts roam free, you walked out of the library and made your way to your music room. You have many instruments stored in there. Even ones you couldn't even play properly. Since you usually didn't have that many patients around these times, you decided to occupie yourself with several other things.

You sit down in your music room, carefully taking out your flute out of it's case. You slowly raised it to your mouth and started to play. A slow and soft melody filled the room. The flute always was your favourite instrument. It was easy to carry and sat comfortably in your hands. And you loved the sounds you could create with it.

Until the evening you occupied yourself with mainly your flute. As soon as the sun set you walk in your kitchen again. Even though many wouldn't call your day productive, you enjoyed the lazy drag of the day. It was relaxing, securing, giving yourself some kind of all day routine.

Just as you were preparing dinner, a memory crossed your mind. The memory of a white haired boy with a bright face expression and heterochromic eyes. Nikolai Gogol. You didn't know why exactly he was the one you were thinking of, but it wasn't really surprising either.

He was the only friend you had when you were a child. And most importantly, your past lover. Nikolai and you dated for about two years when you both were 16. Then with 18, you moved from ukraine to the home country of your mother to study. After then you never bothered to leave germany.

Life was quiet livworthy here and it kind of felt like home. After your move to the west, Nikolai and you first exchanged letters, but after a while they became more rare and rare until, in one letter, he asked to end the relationship. You didn't cry, not a single tear escaped your eyes. Yes, you were sad that it ended, but it was expected to happen eventually.

Just as you sat down in front of a steaming plate, your doorbell rang. It wasn't unusual that people showed up at your door, asking for help with a wound or sickness, so you just stood up and walked up to the door.

Though when you opened it, you weren't greeted by a stranger, with a bleeding stabwound or a running nose. Your eyes met the familiar heterochromic eyes of a person, you know oh so well, carrying a heavily injured man in his arms. His outfit was black white and had a clown like look.

He had a worried expression on his face, what wasn't at all like you remembered him. Nikolai was a person who almost never got worried or even slightly concerned.

"Nikolai...where have you been?"

"(Y/N)... please help me."

____________________________________________________________

Welp, first chapter.....I'm surprisingly motivated. If you're already here, dear reader, why don't you try my Dazai x reader as well. I would appreciate it.

Have a pleasant morning, day, evening, night :).

Pinterest Link: https://pin.it/5Z6dMZB