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A/N - I highly recommend that you press play on the video above and let the music run throughout this chapter! :)
•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•
Beneath the dappled glow of Fyodor's window, you stood as a vision in the moonlight, adorned in an exquisite nightgown that mirrored the celestial elegance above. Its delicate fabric swayed like a cascade of stardust as you leaned against the fountain, a silhouette of grace and mystery against the canvas of the night.
A slender cigarette, a fragile wisp of smoke spiralling upwards, clung between your fingers, as if you were choreographing an intimate dance with the night air. The soft tendrils of smoke curled and swirled around you, an ethereal waltz that mirrored the quiet rebellion brewing in your presence.
Within the muted confines of Fyodor's room, he and Fukuchi observed this nocturnal spectacle. The soft radiance painted your features, your contemplative gaze fixed upon the moon and the unseen stories it held. "She's a beautiful girl," Fukuchi murmured, captivated by the tableau below. "I suppose that makes the job easier."
Fyodor, his eyes never leaving you, responded with a measured acknowledgment, "I suppose." The night seemed to amplify the complexity of the task at hand. "She's going to be a handful, though," Fyodor reflected, his gaze narrowing in contemplation. "I don't think she was too thrilled about having me as her bodyguard."
"Make her thrilled," Fukuchi urged, his words a gentle whisper blending with the night's hush. "She needs to believe you have her best interests at heart. If there's someone who knows how to convince a person of something, it's you, Fyodor. Her father recognises it too."
As Fyodor continued to watch you, a silent understanding passed between him and the night. Each detail, from the soft rustle of your nightgown to the delicate swirls of smoke, played a part in an intricate nocturnal ballet. The moon bore witness, casting its silent approval upon a scene where words spoke softly and shadows whispered secrets only they comprehended.
• • •
Under the tender embrace of moonlight, Fyodor emerged, moving with a deliberate grace as he approached you. The night hung in suspended animation as your attention was drawn to the cadence of his footsteps. With a languid drag of your cigarette, you turned, a playful yet challenging smirk on your lips.
"You just couldn't resist, could you?" You quipped, your eyes locking onto Fyodor.
His response was a subtle smile, as if acknowledging the unspoken connection beneath the veil of the night. "Not while you're prancing around in that nightgown beneath my window," he countered, the moon's glow casting a celestial aura around him.
A quiet tension lingered as you fought back the betraying blush and retorted, "how presumptuous of you."
Resolute, Fyodor circled around, positioning himself in front of you, bathed in the silvery radiance. His gaze held a depth that matched the enigmatic dance of shadows.
