Why must sin taste so bitterly sweet (fyozai)

Chapter 11

The two of them had been sitting in silence beside one another ever since Fyodor had entered the cell, as he usually did around ten minutes ago, not uttering even a word to one another under the thick blanket of tension that covered the cell from ceiling to floor. Osamu's food and the familiar metal tankard were also sat abandoned on the floor, the sinner having made no attempt to even glance at the objects as it stared over at the far wall of the cell.

One more day.

Osamu would be gone in just one more day. One more day, and the sin plaguing Fyodor's existence would disappear for good. The sin that had been clinging to him for so long would finally be cleansed and become no more than a faint passing memory in the back of his mind whenever he passed by the little stone hut. He would be free from it, from the tiny voice that whispered longingly in his ear every time he pushed open that cell door, from the devilish influence that had tainted his pure soul.

It would all be over soon.

Fyodor looked up from the patch of moss on the stone floor that he'd been staring at to glance at the sinner beside him, his pupils enraptured by the sharp pull of... well, he wasn't entirely sure what it was. He had no real idea what in the world it was that drew him so ferociously towards the creature, despite how unbelievably potent the force was.

That's what he wanted to believe. It was the only real answer his mind would choose to accept, refusing to even consider any others.

But in truth, he knew.

He could tell by the way the steady rhythm of his heart beating in his chest suddenly grew faster as the thought even surfaced in his mind.

Sin had been condemned to him for as long as he could possibly remember. Sin is the root of all evil. It is what their saviour wishes for them to steer clear of. It is what their saviour wishes to protect them from, to steer them clear of in order to keep them on the correct path of their lives. So why in that moment was it that he wished for nothing more than to embrace the despicable sin that welled deep within the sinner's blackened heart, to hold it close and caress it gently and tenderly as a mother would with their child?

His fingers began to pick away at his gloves, moving as if some other kind of force was compelling them to do so as Fyodor watched, making no move to stop them as he felt the pieces of fabric fall together onto the damp floor of the cell.

He sat staring at his now-bare hands, stretching out his fingers of pale and delicate skin, cold and stiff in the winter air, and clamouring for some kind of warmth to soothe the ache.

His hand reached out to his side, almost instinctively sliding down to gently cup the sinner's cheek in his palm as its warmth began to slowly seep into his veins.

He felt the man jump beneath the sudden touch, his body tensing up all at once as he looked up to meet Fyodor's eyes. Eyes that held a soft but quickly growing flicker of warmth in their pupils. Slowly, he relaxed into the touch, practically melting against him as Fyodor began to smooth soft, soothing circles into the skin with his thumb.

Fyodor watched as a soft smile worked its way onto Osamu's face, entranced by the way his eyes softly flickered shut and the contented sigh the man let out as he let himself fall to lean against Fyodor's side.