𝗲𝗽𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗹 [bsd x reader oneshots]

FYODOR | MOSCOW NIGHTS

[CONTENT]

This oneshot contains forehead kisses, flirting, teasing, cuddling, discussions of humanity, snow storms, along with a female reader. This is oneshot has not been beta-read. Beware grammar errors.

The translation for the Russian phrases is located at the end. Please read the note about translations at the end of the chapter.

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Warm-toned beacons emblazed the antique Kremlin towers that loomed over the Moskva River, their mammoth silhouettes casting abstract shadows on the expansive city with only a weight history could carry. One tower spanned ten stories, ringing to life as a golden hour hand struck downward. Tourists and local stragglers alike took a moment to look upon it in awe, the red brick contrasting the neutral stones below their feet. They were apprehensive when approaching the guards who lined the tower's perimeter, only admiring its uppermost structure from a distance.

However, unknown to the people below, two figures observed the tower from a different perspective, their view hoisted high above the heads of those who drifted below. Sneaking past the guards was effortless—their schedules remained the same for years. They slipped inside, shinnying up rickety staircases and slinking through claustrophobic passageways, relieved of the dense, warm air as they reached the top. The vast Russian city skyline met them at their destination, still as a painting despite the wind.

Snowflakes threaded through tresses of hair, powdering their clothes in a flurry when they stepped out from underneath the roofing shelter, allowing themselves to drift towards the viewing area's edge. A pair of gentle hands traced cracks in the white concrete of the railing, designing patterns in the snow as her eyes gazed longingly at the people below.

"They're so small from up here," she uttered, lips parted in childlike wonder as her eyes shifted from families to couples to loners. Some swayed to an unheard tune as they admired the shimmering specks of snow dance in the skies. Others kicked at the piles of slosh that built underneath their feet as they made a beeline for their homes.

Although many wouldn't dare call him anything human, the man beside her—with hair slickened in shades of midnight joined his companion to peer at the common folk strolling the square, uninterested in comparison.

"They are much like ants—mindless." (Name)'s trance shattered, eyeing Fyodor with pursed lips. It was not unlike him to break her away from her more human perspective of the world, even if she held pride in her optimism and romanticized outlook. In her opinion, it was the most enjoyable way to view life, even if it wasn't accurate. "Each lives and dies in dictation by the rules of their colony. And from their perspective, so rooted to the earth, they fail to recognize the heavens."

"Mmm," (Name) hummed, considering him with a careful crossing of her arms. Despite more than a decade of attempts to decipher it, she couldn't pretend to understand every cleverly crafted word that toiled in his prodigious mind. She had come to accept that aspect of him, his cryptic disposition and transcendental mindset becoming his most charming traits—at least to her.

"You're not wrong," she concluded with a muffled quiver, purposefully ignoring the knowing smirk that slipped onto his lips. As beautiful as an angel, as vexatious as a devil—it was the only way to describe him—an inhuman oxymoron. "I can't say there's even been a time when you were. Although, their complacency makes them so fascinating."

Her eyes raised to match him, and passersby would've mistaken them for a pair of predators circling one another. "Wouldn't you agree, Федя?"

He pulled her closer in response, ensnaring her body in a vulturine embrace as his gloved hand settled against the small, sensitive area of her back, reveling in the shiver that rattled her spine. "Why, of course." His other hand trailed against the solidified crystal base of ice that had frozen against the railing, fingers illustrating abstract shapes on the snowy edges. "People fall into pattern and predictability, which can be shattered by the slightest temptation."