FOOD FOR THE WOLVES, After three years of a certain incident that happened in your past, you finally manage to get over this trauma. In Russia (your native country) you meet a person you never thought you would see again, or at least you thought so...
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Notwithstanding what Fyodor Dostoyevsky had told you, you simply couldn't stay in bed for more than a day. You could say that you had just breach a "command" from someone you considered an intimate friend. Maybe you weren't even that, perhaps you were just his plaything, maybe not or maybe yes. You couldn't just delve into his brain and seek for answers no matter how much you wanted to.
You had recently gotten out of bed and were now tiptoeing down the stairs trying not to make noise so they would come upon you. You didn't even know what precisely you were searching for downstairs, perhaps you even thought it was better to tarry upstairs. But you required some action, something to distract you from the agony. If you remain in sheets all day, your mind will concentrate more on the ache than on other things.
You had come down to research the secrets of that sizeable locale full of corridors. Even though your injuries hurt, you attempted to commute. Your gaze at that instant was not focused on your path, but on one of the hallways, one that seemed to go even further down, you observed the dimness that enclosed that hall and──
THUMP
You had collided with the person you least wanted to collide with: Fyodor. A shudder ranges down your spinal column.
He glances above his shoulder at you and turns with a faint sigh. He elevates an eyebrow slightly because he seems disappointed in you. "What had I told you to do?"
"...Stay in bed," You mutter.
"And what have you done?"
"Sneak out of the bedroom."
A brief silence forms in the ambience. You felt like a little girl being scolded by her father. You let out a snort, remembering this humiliating scene.
"Even if you or someone else had told me, I wouldn't have listened. I can move and do whatever I want, and I am responsible for whether or not I feel pain from unhealed wounds, Fyodor!" You clarify.
