His Star His Secret || A Fyodor Dostoevsky X Reader Fanfiction
The candlelight flickers, casting shifting shadows across Fyodor's face. His violet eyes gleam in the dim glow, studying you with quiet intensity-calculating, unreadable, and yet, undeniably soft.
"To them, I am a phantom," he murmurs, his voice a low melody against the silence. "A man without a heart." His fingers brush against yours, the touch so light it feels like a question. "Tell me, darling... do you believe that too?"
You should. You know what he is, what he's done. And yet, when his fingers trail up to cup your jaw, his touch cold yet somehow burning, you don't pull away.
"You're dangerous," you whisper.
A slow, knowing smile tugs at his lips. "And yet, you stay."
Beyond these walls, he is a ghost in the dark, a name spoken in hushed fear. But here, beneath the flickering glow of candlelight, with his hand resting against your skin, he is something else. Something only you are allowed to see.
