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

Religion and Obsession

The next morning you came down the stairs, still a bit groggy from the last night. As you reach the living room you only see Fyodor, sitting on the couch, reading a book. He looked up at you as you entered. Since he didn't have to be in bed all day and could normally walk around on his own properly, you gave him a guest room upstairs. He still had to go into the basement for regular check ups and examinations however.

You were a bit uncomfortable being alone with him. The events of the last night were still fresh in your mind, making you blush in emberassment everytime you think about it. To not have this awkward silence between you, you decided to speak up.

"Where's Nikolai? He's usually up at this time."

You asked as you sat down beside him.

"I believe he has a hangover from yesterday."

You chuckled slightly at the thought of Nikolai groaning with head ache while laying in be, holding his head. Then you asked Fyodor:

"Breakfast?"

He nodded, looking back at his book. He didn't seem to be affected from the events yesterday. His posure was calm and collected, even the hint of a smile on his lips.

Slowly you got up and made your way to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you looked through what you had. At the end you took out some sausage, cheese, butter, ham and blueberries. Since you got here to germany, you started to eat breakfast like most germans did. And one thing thqt couldn't be missed at a german breakfast was bread.

You prepared everything and went back and placed it on the parlor table. Fyodor looked at it indiffrently and began eating without a word. Before you joined him, you went back to the kitchen and made some tea. After contemplating for a moment you decided on nettle tea. You came back with two cups of tea and put them on the table as well.

Fyodor still seemed to have problems, doing things with just one hand. It also seemed to be his weaker hand at that. Yet he didn't look frustrated. He remained calm and concentrated. There wouldn't be a use in complaining anyways.

After you finished, you put some of the left overs on a plate and carried it upstairs into Nikolai's room.

There you saw him, laying on his stomach, softly snoring. His arms were wrapped around the white pillow, his long hair being spreaded all over it. The blanket was pulled up to his shoulder blades, so you could see his naked shoulders. You couldn't help but admire him in this peaceful state. You placed the plate as well as a glass water on the nightstand and leaned over the sleeping man.

You gently pulled the blanket over his exposed shoulders before brushing a few strands of hair out of his face. Smiling to yourself, you left the room closing the door behind you. There you leaned back against it, groaning.

You were trying to move on from him for heaven's sake. Not falling in love with him again. That wouldn't end well and you knew it. You knew that it could never work out again. And as sad as that made you, you couldn't change it.

You walked away from his room and made your way to the library. You entered through the dark wooden door made of cedar, the light aromatic scent hitting your nostrils. But stronger than that was the scent of books, the pages filled with stories. Stories about heroes, love, adventures and friendship. But also dark stories about murderers, detectives, war or hate. Pages filled with knowledge of all kinds of things. From medicine to history and from philosophy to biology. Pages that were stacked in this library, waiting to be opened and read.

You walked along the wooden shelfs, gliding with the tips your fingers over the spines of the books. You read all of the books in your library, some even more than once. Reading was something you always enjoyed. You often read to Nikolai when you were younger.