ex nihilo | fyodor dostoyevsky x reader

ᴄᴏʜᴇʀᴇɴᴄᴇ

Coherence

ᴀʙᴏᴠᴇ ᴀʟʟ, ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʟɪᴇ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀꜱᴇʟꜰ. ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀɴ ᴡʜᴏ ʟɪᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴍꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴀɴᴅ ʟɪꜱᴛᴇɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ʜɪꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ʟɪᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴀ ᴘᴏɪɴᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴇ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ᴅɪꜱᴛɪɴɢᴜɪꜱʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ʜɪᴍ, ᴏʀ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ʜɪᴍ, ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴏ ʟᴏꜱᴇꜱ ᴀʟʟ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍꜱᴇʟꜰ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ. ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴀᴠɪɴɢ ɴᴏ ʀᴇꜱᴘᴇᴄᴛ ʜᴇ ᴄᴇᴀꜱᴇꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ. 

- Fyodor Dostoyevsky, The Brothers Karamazov (aka the author's fav book)

. . .

"How do I look?"

"Dazzling," Fyodor admitted, astounded by the eye candy before him.

You smiled shyly. "Oh, thank you."

You were wearing an evening red dress, bought just for the occasion. Even in your own opinion, the outfit was wonderful - it complimented your figure just right. The buy was one of a kind. Hey, even Fyodor liked it. He couldn't hide his admiration, which only boosted your confidence.

With traditional red heels and complete makeup, you were ready for the night. Fyodor too was wearing his dark formal attire - something you had never seen before, yet it suited him well. 

Yes, the preparations for the murder were borderline ridiculous. You had to get all fancy in order to get to that party and finish the job. Concerning that, a loose plan was formed.

"We'll improvise a lot," Fyodor told you, "this is such a situation, and I trust you'll know what to do."

"There's too much at stake, so I'll give it my best, of course. There's only one thing we're sure of: I'll be the one to kill Mikhail, right? Except that, we're improvising everything."

"Yes. I have a question about your ability, though. Do you amplify the source of light or simply the light itself?"

"Light itself, of course."

"Then, I assume I can take out my phone, point it at Mikhail's face and you can end him for good?"

"Yeah. I've done that already, it works."

"Wonderful." Fyodor beamed. "Then there's nothing stopping us. I'll retrieve his phone, it holds enough information to take over his business."

"How can you be so sure? I doubt he's got everything on his phone."

"He's got contacts. That's enough."

Why, of course, Fyodor could do anything with those numbers and names.

"And you will give it all back to my father?"

"Everything. You have my word." He offered you his hand, and you took it, ready for whatever the event would hold.

. . .

You ordered a cab, had your ride, and arrived to the mansion. Stepping outside, the chill as well as awe struck you - for the building was grand, and the night was cold.

Snow was all around. Luckily, the pavement was cleared of it, so you could reach the mansion. Fyodor held you by your hand all the while, and while climbing up the stairs to reach the massive door, he quietly asked, "are you nervous?"

"Not at all. I'm very excited, actually," you responded.

"That's the spirit," he approved, adding a smile. "If you ever do feel a bit nervous, remember, we're not acting anything. So don't be an actor. Be yourself, live through the situation as (Y/N) herself."