Moon of Misfortunes

12

The night fell heavily upon my room, bringing with it the biting chill of winter. Stirring at the sound of someone entering, I cracked my eyes open to find Rubio. He moved quietly, igniting the fireplace and placing a padlock on the glass door that contained the flames. It felt like a silent rebuke for my earlier outbursts. Rubio remained stoic and silent throughout, never meeting my gaze or speaking a word. After tending to the fire, he left without a word, leaving me to drift back into sleep.

Throughout the night, I woke several times, finding myself sitting up in bed, gazing out through the barred windows at the swirling snowflakes gently blanketing the ground. The soft, powdery snow adorned the tree branches, illuminated by the moonlight casting shadows on the quiet landscape. Despite my usual love for winter, a deep sadness washed over me this time. If I don't win the appeal, this will be my last winter ever.

Frustrated, I groaned and flopped back onto the bed, pulling the satin covers up to my chin, attempting to will myself back to sleep. Closing my eyes, I tried to relax, but anxiety kept me from slipping into any form of sleep. My mind raced with thoughts of the upcoming appeal, my future, and Rubio.

Suddenly, the locks on my door began to rattle. I furrowed my brow in confusion, the sound slicing through the silence of my room. With a jolt, I sat up in bed, the blankets slipping down around me. Nervously, I smoothed out my nightgown and rubbed the exhaustion from my eyes. The door swung open abruptly and then closed just as fast, leaving a figure leaning against it, their back pressed firmly to the wood. 

"Rubio, I'm sorry. We need to t—"

Then the earthy scent hit me like a million bricks, flooding me with a nauseating wave of nostalgia. It was unmistakably Nikolai. His features were bathed in the warm light of the fireplace, casting flickering shadows that danced across his raven-black hair, now slightly tousled, and the unfamiliar small beard framing his face. His piercing green eyes locked onto mine with an expression of disbelief, as if he had just stumbled upon a ghost from his past. Nikolai looked both handsome and terrifying, a reminder of a time I had tried desperately to leave behind. Dryness settled in my throat as I swallowed nervously. 

What the fuck is he doing here? 

He yanked his hand back from the door and stalked towards my bed, his presence filling the room with an unsettling tension.

"Who's Rubio, baby?" he taunted, tilting his head to the side with a grin that instantly made me feel uneasy.

"What are you doing here?" I questioned, my voice barely above a whisper.

Confusion swirled inside me, mingled with a rising tide of anger at his audacity. He ignored my question completely, closing the distance until he stood right beside me. I closed my eyes briefly, hoping against hope that this was some stress-induced hallucination. But when I reopened them, the reality was stark: Nikolai sat down on the edge of my bed, causing it to dip beneath his weight. I frowned, the anger and fear knotting in my stomach as I realized he was truly here.

His left hand reached out tentatively, fingers brushing against the delicate skin of my face. Each touch felt like a spark against my skin, making me feel nauseous with a mixture of revulsion and dread. Yet I remained frozen, unable to move as he traced my features as if deciphering some hidden code. His touch trailed down my jawline and settled firmly on my chin, his thumb and index finger gripping tightly. His eyes squinted, and stress lines creased his forehead, adding a harsh edge to his already intense gaze.

"Why are you still alive?" he hissed, his grip on my chin tightening painfully. I struggled to look away from his intense gaze, but he forced my face back to meet his, his breath hot and minty against my skin.