ex nihilo | fyodor dostoyevsky x reader

ɴᴏꜱᴛᴀʟɢɪᴀ

Nostalgia

ꜰʀᴏᴍ ᴄʜɪʟᴅʜᴏᴏᴅ'ꜱ ʜᴏᴜʀ ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ʙᴇᴇɴ. ᴀꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ, ɪ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɴᴏᴛ ꜱᴇᴇɴ. ᴀꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ꜱᴀᴡ, ɪ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴀᴡᴀᴋᴇɴ. ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴊᴏʏ ᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴀᴍᴇ ᴛᴏɴᴇ. ᴀɴᴅ ᴀʟʟ ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ, ɪ ʟᴏᴠᴇᴅ ᴀʟᴏɴᴇ.

- Edgar Allan Poe, Alone

. . .

To worsen the already alarming situation, gunshots were heard. Danger was present, all around, coming from who knew where - and who knew where you two should be headed. Where to? Hiding behind some fence, entering someone's backyard and going wherever? Too much bother. In that case...

"Maybe we could pretend we're a normal couple walking home after a fancy dinner," you suggested, to which Fyodor agreed.

"We'll improvise if needed. But you'll be fine walking around? You won't be cold?"

You waved your head no, smiling at this display of care. "No, no, don't worry. Let's go."

No matter your assurance, he kept one arm wrapped around your waist - a welcomed gesture. But a single minute hadn't passed and an engine was heard nearby, coming closer, a car. The two of you ignored it, however, once this vehicle stopped next to you and its window was opened, you were forced to look at the driver.

Inside the car, a familiar face, beautified with a smile. "Hey there kids, need a ride?" Arkady was there.

"What?! No way!" You grinned. "Are you kidding me? Of course," you added, immediately opening the door to get in your father's car. Once inside, you heard the click of a gun. Dread to your ears. You turned to see your father pointing one at Fyodor who didn't get the chance to enter. Why, what was going on - you found yourself staring at the scene, anticipation booming.

"Fedulenka, son, I appreciate everything you've done for us so far, but this has to end."

Ah! You understood, and did not object - although it may seemed illogical. The day arrived for you to finally go with your father.

It hadn't crossed your mind much throughout these months. You were aware, yes, but the fact remained at the back of your mind for far too long. This, the messing with Fyodor was but a temporary setback, a mere episode in your life - you delved in too deep to remember that. It could be, you didn't even care.

Just like many people with heightened cognitive abilities, you recognized your fault, but quickly had it overthrown. You came to terms with your new future - because, you had no other option.

And just like other people who had their fair share of satisfaction, you had turned numb to abandoning joy. Your passive approach deemed you peaceful at times, yet far more often, apathetic to anything major.

All of this, a well formed structure of rationalization, was built in mere moments. During those few moments, the turmoil of silence engulfed the three of you.

Fyodor parted his lips, but a response was hesitation upon. Once he found one, he stated, "that's impossible."

Fyodor succumbed to defeat. Did he? Or was this denial? Or maybe - this truly was impossible.

"You've completed your part of the deal, I'll do mine. But (Y/N) will no longer be with you," your father explained.

"Why?"

"I decided so," he insisted. In Arkady's stern voice, you found a single string that spoke of hidden intentions.

"But that doesn't make any sense," Fyodor retorted. He was getting upset by this funny business. However, to you, it was a decision completely sensible and expected - with another meaning to it, which you were yet to find out.