Nikolai had always been captivated by birds. Their elegant wings, the way they soared effortlessly through the sky-it was a kind of beauty that never ceased to amaze him.
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He often watched them from his window, imagining what i...
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Nikolai sprawled on Fyodor's bed with the carefree attitude he often adopted around him, his jester-like persona on full display as he kicked his legs up and down, recounting the previous night's events with Y/N. His mismatched eyes glimmered with pure joy as he relived each chaotic moment. "And that's what we did last night!" he said with dramatic flair, gesturing wildly as if reliving the thrill. "Isn't Y/N just so thrilling!?" His grin was contagious, and yet it held a layer of something deeper—something he wasn't ready to admit, even to himself.
Fyodor hummed softly, turning away from his book to give Nikolai a calm, measured glance. He watched the jester's exuberance with a knowing expression, his sharp, violet eyes piercing through the room's dim light. Fyodor didn't need to say much; his eyes alone held the weight of his observations. "You're in love, aren't you, Gogol?" he asked, his tone as cold and calculating as ever. There was no accusation in his voice, just a simple statement—one he knew would unsettle his companion.
Nikolai froze for a split second before letting out a loud, exaggerated laugh, waving Fyodor's words away with a flick of his wrist. "In love?!" he repeated, scoffing. "Don't be absurd, Dos-kun!" He sat up slightly, still smiling but with a hint of nervousness as he fiddled with the edge of his coat. His pale cheeks betrayed him, however, as they turned a faint shade of pink. Fyodor's words had struck closer to home than Nikolai cared to admit.
Love? Him? Nikolai Gogol? He could never fall for someone like Y/N! Sure, his heart might beat a little faster when she was around, and maybe he felt a strange thrill whenever they talked. But that was just the adrenaline, right? It had to be. The chaos, the unpredictability—those were the things he craved, not... not this. His ego was too big to admit to such foolishness. He prided himself on being untethered, a man without emotional chains, so the very idea of being in love was laughable. At least, that's what he told himself.
His laughter trailed off into an embarrassed chuckle, his gaze now avoiding Fyodor's as he fought to regain his composure. "That would just betray my whole aspect of freedom, wouldn't it?!" he declared defensively, trying to shift the conversation back to something he could control. He straightened his jester's hat, tapping it as if it could help him think straight. "I mean, love is just another chain, isn't it? Another thing to tie me down and limit my freedom. You know that, Fyodor."
Fyodor, however, was not easily swayed. He closed his book with a soft thud and turned fully toward Nikolai, the amused smile on his face growing wider as if he found Nikolai's denial to be the most amusing joke of all. "Is that so?" he mused, his voice dripping with quiet amusement. "Then why do you blush whenever you speak of her?"
Nikolai tensed, his eyes widening slightly before he quickly turned away, pretending to be distracted by something on the ceiling. "Blushing? Me? Don't be ridiculous, I'm just—uh—hot! It's warm in here, don't you think?" He tugged at the collar of his coat, fanning himself dramatically as if that would dispel the growing redness in his cheeks. But Fyodor wasn't buying it, and Nikolai knew it.
