Make Me Love Again

Chapter 1

Fyodor stepped outside his apartment, locking the door behind him and walking along the carpeted lining the hallway floor. It was early morning with everyone still in their beds, sleeping in since the week was over and Saturday started. The sun was just barely peeking out over the city from his window, and Fyodor had decided then that it was time to leave.

He rounded the corner to the stairway of his building, squinting slightly at the LED lights glaring down at him. The bars bolted into the wall were old and rusted, so Fyodor kept his hands to himself as he descended from the second floor.

His hair bounced lightly from where it was tied back into a half-done bun, not wanting his hair to get tangled as he walked. It had grown out quite a bit as of recently.

With the emptiness of streets greeting him, Fyodor strolled to the café he normally went to, already craving the tea he routinely got on the weekends when he was off work. He worked at the local library, organizing and stamping books his entire shift without end, even though there weren't many people who read physical books these days. It didn't bother him though, every less person meant he didn't have to socialize.

The wind blew with a chill as Fyodor entered the café, hearing the soft jingle of bells above him when he opened the door.

"Good morning! I'll be with you in a minute!" Called a cheerful voice from the back room.

He didn't respond, instead waiting by the ordering counter patiently while looking up at the menu even though he already knew what he was going to get. Some of the pastries and drinks were recently added with the seasonal change, embracing the shop with a soft scent of cinnamon with it. Autumn was creeping up with a pumpkin themed shake being advertised in orange chalk against the black board beside the register.

Fyodor didn't bat an eye at the sign, never being one to try such ridiculous scams on a whim. The drinks were far too expensive for such a small serving of pure sugar and ice, and the sweetness just wasn't his taste. He preferred stronger drinks that only had a slight kick because of the straight concentration of herbs.

He waited another moment, letting his eyes roam the pale walls with familiarity. There were new books on the free Take One Leave One shelf for children, small strings of lights glowing dimly while tacked to the wood, making it look somewhat pleasing to the eye. Fyodor prided himself on beautiful things, being a small collector of jewelry that caught his eye in windows and willing to throw down money for it, despite good or bad prices as long as the quality was good in his standards.

A few tables were added to the layout, new tablecloths replacing the old ones he'd gotten used to and the doormat was changed.

He silently mourned the way the café looked before, briefly allowing himself to ponder the thoughts of being present for the shift in appearance. But life wasn't always fair, and it was proven when he'd awoken in a hospital wing after waking up from a small coma.

Apparently , he'd been on some late night grocery run before being knocked out by a stranger. Fyodor had never been mugged before, but according to the doctor's report he'd been caught in a rough part of the area and was unresponsive, so he didn't know how to react when he found out.

Waking up was disorientating, and Fyodor was too freaked out at first to think straight, not being able to remember anything from the past handful of months. Spring was already over and summer was coming to an end, and he recalled none of it.

It's safe to say he had a little bit of a crisis about it, holing into his apartment after deep cleaning it—since all his food had rotted from his five week coma —and not answering his door. The neighbors he occasionally talked to tried to get him to start conversation whenever he left to restock his fridge, but Fyodor didn't have the energy to even continue one after muttering a greeting.