ex nihilo | fyodor dostoyevsky x reader

ʙᴏʀᴇᴅᴏᴍ

Boredom

ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ɢᴜᴇꜱꜱᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ, ɪɴ ꜰᴀᴄᴛ, ʜᴀᴛᴇᴅ ᴍʏ ʟɪꜰᴇ ꜱᴏ ᴡᴀꜱᴛʟʏ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴡᴀꜱᴛᴇᴅ ᴘᴏᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴀʟ; ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ꜱʟᴏᴡʟʏ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴜʀɴ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴀ ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ. ᴀʟʟ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ᴏꜰ ʙᴏʀᴇᴅᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴄʜᴏꜱᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴅɪᴠᴜʟɢᴇ ɪɴ. ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴍᴀʏ ʜᴀᴅ ᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴜʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ, ʙᴜᴛ ɴᴏᴡ ɪᴛ ʜᴀꜱ ɢʀᴏᴡɴ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴅᴇᴇᴍᴇᴅ ᴀ ꜱɪɴ.

. . .

What do you say, then? Speak up, he might behead you. Don't speak - how would he react? It was a disarray of doubt you were lost in, all caused by him and that wonder of his. A wonder, a miracle indeed! The entire event appeared to be staged! It was extraordinary, so far-fetched to the normal mind, that you were flooded with disbelief. Not to mention the fear - the sensation that paralyzed you, freezing your physique and throwing your thoughts all about your brain. Thanks to him you became a mute mess.

And facing the dilemma of yours, he stood, and he was at peace. The man in front of you was both a savior and a murderer, facts clear as day. Yet he presented something far more, something you failed to comprehend. It was this very greatness that threw a tantrum in your senses. He didn't budge as he waited for you to speak up, and his hand was stretched out, offering something else along your belongings. A simple act through which the the both of you saw more - was this the hint of a new life, a revelation brought by God himself?

You couldn't possibly know. These were allegories you were dealing with, mere metaphors far from understanding, especially in this rabid state of yours. Yet he remained calm, as calm as the corpse behind him. He was, above all, controlling the situation. He had no option but to rejoice in silence and mock you so.

"What should I do now," was all you could say to defy the stalemate. It was an honest shriek of your tormented soul, nothing more, nothing less. You truly had no idea what to do - and perhaps, hopefully he would show some pity to your troubles.

He tilted his head to the side, hair strands falling into his face as he spoke, "I don't ask you to do anything on the spot, but seeing that you hesitate..."

He pushed your possessions into your chest, a motion that surprised and made you stumble backwards, and - silly you - squeak. This forced a smile to his lips, and you'd laugh too if you weren't so tense.

You put the things into your bag, carefully watching Fyodor all the while. Your focus may had remained on that petite smile of his for a bit longer than intended, though.

"Shall we go before we're noticed with a body behind us? You wouldn't like that and honestly, neither would I," he then suggested. You agreed, having no other option, and so you were out on the streets again. Feet wobbly, mouth dry, you didn't dare to speak up and he didn't seem to care.

The two of you approached the river. Standing by the fence, he leaned against it and stared at the scenery in front of him. His hair and that ushanka of his played around, messing with his vision as well as your own - your eyes were glued on his idle face. If only you could read him..!

"I've done something terrible, hm? Something you'll remember. Now, I ask: would you be able to judge a crossroad in your life if it weren't this dramatic?" A question was finally heard, and your nervous self responded straight away.

"I wouldn't know, really."

"I made it easier for you today. Usually the crossroad isn't visible. Today you're facing another one, and you are about to make a choice."