An angel's voice. || Fyolai ||

10.⊹Lord, forgive me.

Guess who's back... Back again..

⚠︎lots of religious stuff in this chapter

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Fyodor sat alone in his small, dimly lit apartment, the weight of the previous night's events pressing heavily on his conscience. He had spent the entire morning grappling with a profound sense of guilt and confusion, the memory of Nikolai's kiss haunting him. It had happened when they were both drunk, a fleeting moment of passion that seemed to defy all reason and propriety. Yet, despite the overwhelming guilt, Fyodor couldn't deny that he had enjoyed it.

He rose from his seat, pacing the room as he tried to make sense of his feelings. The kiss had felt so wrong, yet so right. His faith told him it was a sin, a transgression against the moral code he had always strived to live by. But his heart whispered something different, something he was too afraid to acknowledge.

Unable to bear the turmoil any longer, Fyodor decided to seek solace in the one place that had always brought him peace: the church. He put on his coat and left his apartment, the cold air biting at his face as he walked the familiar path to the old stone building. The church stood as a beacon of hope and redemption, its spire reaching towards the heavens as if to offer sanctuary to all who sought it.

Fyodor entered the church, the heavy wooden doors creaking as they swung open. The scent of incense and the flickering light of candles greeted him, offering a brief respite from his troubled mind. He walked down the aisle, his footsteps echoing in the vast, empty space, until he reached the altar. There, he knelt, bowing his head in prayer.

"Lord, forgive me," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion. "I have sinned. I allowed myself to be led astray by temptation, and now I am lost. Please, cleanse me of this sin and guide me back to the path of righteousness."

As he prayed, Fyodor felt a profound sense of shame. He had always prided himself on his unwavering faith and moral integrity. But now, he was confronted with a weakness he had never known existed within him. The kiss had stirred something deep inside, a longing he had never acknowledged. And despite his best efforts to suppress it, the memory of Nikolai's lips against his own refused to fade.

Fyodor remained in the church for hours, seeking absolution through prayer and reflection. He recited the rosary, confessed his sins, and begged for forgiveness. Yet, no matter how fervently he prayed, he couldn't shake the feeling that something had fundamentally changed within him. The kiss had opened a door he was unable to close, a door that led to a part of himself he had long denied.

As the afternoon sun began to set, casting a warm, golden light through the stained glass windows, Fyodor rose from his knees. His heart still heavy with guilt, he made his way back to his apartment.

Fyodor walked slowly, his steps echoing softly in the twilight of the city streets. The absolution he had received from the priest had lightened his heart, but a persistent unease lingered in his mind. The memory of Nikolai's kiss, the warmth and softness of his lips, haunted him with every step he took. He had sought forgiveness, and in a sense, he had found it, but he could not cleanse himself of the feelings that had been awakened within him.

As he approached his apartment, the familiar surroundings did little to comfort him. The streets were quiet, with only the occasional passerby hurrying home. Fyodor fumbled for his keys, his thoughts drifting back to that night. He could still recall the way Nikolai's breath had mingled with his, the way his hands had gently cupped Fyodor's face. The intensity of the moment had been overwhelming, an intoxicating blend of desire and confusion.

Inside his apartment, Fyodor removed his coat and sank into his chair, staring blankly at the wall. He tried to distract himself, picking up a book and flipping through its pages, but the words failed to hold his attention. His mind kept wandering back to Nikolai. How could a single kiss cause so much turmoil? How could a moment of weakness lead to such persistent thoughts?

Fyodor closed the book with a sigh and leaned back, closing his eyes. He remembered Nikolai's laughter, his charming smile, and the way his eyes seemed to sparkle with mischief.

  The kiss had shattered the boundaries Fyodor had carefully constructed around his emotions.

In the stillness of his apartment, Fyodor found himself grappling with a truth he had been reluctant to face. It wasn't just the physical act of the kiss that had stirred him, but the emotions it had brought to the surface. He had enjoyed it, not just in the moment, but even now as he recalled it. The sense of connection, the intimacy, was something he had never allowed himself to feel before. And it was terrifying.

He rose from his chair and walked to the window, gazing out at the city below. The lights of the buildings twinkled in the night, a stark contrast to the darkness of his thoughts. Fyodor's mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions: guilt, desire, fear, and something else he couldn't quite name. He knew he needed to talk to Nikolai, to make sense of what had happened, but the thought of facing him filled him with dread.

As the hours passed, Fyodor found no respite from his thoughts. He tried to pray, seeking comfort in his faith, but even that felt hollow. The feelings he harbored for Nikolai were real and undeniable, and no amount of prayer could make them disappear. He had confessed his sin to the priest, but he hadn't confessed the truth to himself. That perhaps, this was more than just a moment of drunken indiscretion.

Fyodor lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, his mind refusing to quiet. He wondered what Nikolai was thinking, if he was as troubled by the kiss as Fyodor was. Did he feel the same confusion, the same pull towards something forbidden? Or was it just a meaningless act, forgotten as soon as it happened?

The questions gnawed at him, making sleep impossible. Fyodor knew he couldn't continue like this, trapped in a cycle of guilt and longing. He needed to find a way to reconcile his faith with his feelings, to understand what this meant for him and his relationship with Nikolai. It was a journey he had to undertake, no matter how difficult.

As dawn began to break, Fyodor finally closed his eyes, exhausted but determined. He would seek out Nikolai, speak to him honestly, and face whatever came next. The path ahead was uncertain, but he could no longer deny the truth of his heart. And in that truth, perhaps he would find the peace he so desperately sought. He fell asleep with a frown on his face, not even noticing that his band was in his apartment too, watching him worried.

Fyodor had not reacted to seeing them. Perhaps he was just used to it already, or he was so deep in thoughts that he didn't see them at all..

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I have returned to feed you all..
Some crazy ahh shit happened, but I fought the writers block for you!!!!
My lovely people, I hope you like this chapter.
The next chapter will show Nikolai's side of their current situation..

1256 words