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bodacioustomato · 4 days ago

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TRASH SUGAR MAGIC

➛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 9: ʏᴏᴜ, ꜱᴀɴᴄᴛᴜᴀʀʏ

➛ nikolai gogol x fem!reader

➛ mature content, fluff, angst, death, slice... of life | words: 7.8k

➛ ao3 | spotify | main menu | discord (18+)

Three days without talking to Viktor feels like a crime.

No news, no updates.

Nikolai is slumped on the couch with the Eyes of God laptop at his side. The notebook on his lap is filled with scribbles of words and numbers. The hot mocha you made an hour ago has gone cold and the ashtray at his feet is filled with cigarettes.

“Is he angry at me?” Nikolai mumbles to himself, lips pouting. His thumb has been hovering over the call button on Viktor’s contact page on the screen of his phone for five minutes now. He wants to talk to Viktor about your father but he does not have the courage to start the conversation.

That night, he told Viktor that your father was near the border between Russia and Belarus. A clear attempt to flee the country alone, obviously. Viktor also told the middleman to the loan sharks about it and Nikolai wondered if anything had happened to your father yet.

What if they caught the man? Will you still be used as a hostage, despite the many times you have said that you are useless to be used against your father? What if he does pay his debt? What will happen to you? Will you return to your home? Will you leave him?

Nikolai is already uneasy. He has been uneasy for a while. He needs answers. He needs the events to happen right now. He does not think he has the patience to play the waiting game any longer.

“Kolya…”

Nikolai turns to the side and sees you holding a broom and leaning against the wall with a solemn expression. He frowns. He sees the broom you are holding. You are practically the unpaid maid of this house. Nikolai does not even know what the hell are you cleaning because he does not think his apartment is a big mess. But he just lets you do your own thing. Maybe sweeping bacteria is one of your favourite hobbies.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. “What’s with that face, hm?” He says, surprisingly, a tint of gentleness is apparent in his voice that it even shocks him.

You grumble something and put the broomstick against the wall before you approach him. Right at the other spot beside him, you plop down onto the couch. You tilt your head, resting it on his shoulder.

“I’m bored…”

Nikolai blinks confusedly. For one reason, he is quite baffled by the sudden closeness but this is the girl who happily hugged his arm on the first day of her kidnapping. His bafflement does not last long. He is used to this. He is so used to this.

“Well, what do you want me to do then?” Nikolai sighs. He watches your naughty hand trying to take the notebook off his lap in curiosity. Quickly, he slaps your hand away. “Hands off, dolly.”

“What are you scribbling? Mantra?”

“Mm-hm.” He just approves your wonder. You glance at him and then huff. Nikolai snorts, teasingly tugging your hair. “Don’t stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“I’m just curious.” You sulk before pointing your finger at the page of the notebook. “Besides, I can’t even understand any of these! Anyone from afar will think you were trying to draw spaghetti.” You whine, poking your finger on the page.

“Thanks for calling my handwriting ugly as fuck, darling. Appreciate that.” Nikolai grumbles before he seizes your hand and tosses it aside. “Even if I explain it to you, you won’t understand.”

“Does it have something to do with your Peters plan?” You ask and Nikolai silently nods. He closes the notebook before putting it aside.

“How will you go there? By car?” You ask again as you lift your head from his shoulder. Nikolai sighs before he finishes the cold mocha he has abandoned for a while now.

“Train. I’ll sell the car before leaving this city.” He replies.

“And what about this house?”

“Sell it.”

“Your clothes?”

“Bring it along.”

“Viktor?”

“Mm, he doesn’t wanna go anywhere.”

“Me?”

Nikolai halts. He turns his head at you, staring with an unreadable gaze. And your eyes are returning that gaze with glimmering hope. His heart tickles and Nikolai quickly breaks contact with you, even placing his palm right on your eyes. “Hm?” You mumble adorably.

“I’m thinking about it.” He replies shortly. Taking his hand off, he takes a glance at you. You are smiling now, soft lips curving up special just for him. He is silent for a moment. “You’re bored, dolly?”

You nod.

“Wanna go out to Olga’s?”

Your eyes beam sunshine immediately. Like bunny ears perked up in excitement, you jump slightly. “Out? We go out? Is that okay?”

Nikolai shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know. Police are doing police things. Aren’t you supposed to be excited that efforts are being made to save your ass?” He says.

“I like it here. I told you.”

“I know. You’ve been saying that for over a month now.” He mumbles. “I don’t even fathom what is actually happening. After I get you in here, everything goes to—” He swallows his word. No, that is not right. He does not think that way. It is just that his lips are quicker than his brain, sometimes.

“You… You don’t actually hate me, right…?” You ask carefully. Hands clasped together, Nikolai notices that you are fiddling with your fingers—nervous, insecure, perhaps unsure. “I don’t think I can live with ease knowing that you hate me.”

He purses his lips. “I don’t have a reason to hate you.” He says softly. His own fingers are now itching to be fiddled too as he can feel the nerves are touring every inch of his system. “I don’t…”

I don’t hate you.

Nikolai takes a deep breath. “I don’t have a reason to.” He repeats again, despite knowing you surely heard his answer. Nothing to worry about, little bird. He is just trying to convince himself of something unknown. Something hidden.

“Really?” You say before you chuckle lightly. “I appreciate that… You make me happy. You always do.”

“Mm-hm, I do, huh?” Nikolai replies, returning your smile as well. “Go get ready. I was planning to go to Olga’s diner anyway to get some dinner. We are already out of canned soup this noon.” He says.

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What? ‘Sir’?”

“Yeah. I don’t like it.”

You tilt your head. “Why?”

He clicks his tongue, pushing you by the shoulder lightly. “Reasons, okay? Go. And don’t wear that blue dress and get your makeup and stuff. I don’t want attention.” He orders. You huff—seeming to have planned to wear your beloved dress. But you know you have to obey anyway, so you dress yourself up in casual attire.

Snatching one of his jackets, you leave the room, already seeing Nikolai waiting by the door. His outfit is simple. A black fitted turtleneck is perfectly copying the shape of his body. The high-waisted pants he wears only make him look like he is eighty-percent legs. Over his top, he wears a white leather jacket.

You notice the extra sparkles on the jacket. Silver zippers, silver decorative chains, silver buttons. As he bends to wear his boots, you tug one of the chains curiously.

“This looks very expensive for a jacket.” You remark. Nikolai stands straight and your hand slides down his back before it drops to your side. He looks at you with a smug smile.

“Stole it.”

“Huh?”

“I can do magic, remember?” He grins proudly before he steps out of the house, followed by you. After he locks the door, he slips his hand into his jacket and—magically—takes out a quite big ushanka hat. Wordlessly, he puts it on your head.

“Just enough to hide your face.” He says, ignoring the confusion on your face as you see what he just did. Perhaps you are too puzzled by it that you start feeling the insides of the jacket you wore.

“Don’t bother, dolly. It is only I who can do that.” He brags with a smirk before he grabs your arm and pulls you along. Your feet just follow his steps, despite you having to match his pace a little faster. Sometimes Nikolai likes to make big steps when walking and although you do not mind following him everywhere, you do prefer a relaxed walk.

The journey to Olga’s diner only takes about ten minutes. As it is already dinnertime and the sun has drowned in the twilight horizon, night owls also come out. It is not rare for you to see the liveliness of the nightlife. Men and women mingle with each other as the television above the bar is broadcasting some sports event. Trailing Nikolai closely from behind, you two step inside, taking the table at the corner. The dark ambience of the diner manages to let your face slip—those who may recognize a missing girl might recognize someone else.

“Oh, hello, darling. Been a while.” Olga approaches your table, tickling your chin with an affectionate smile before she glances at Nikolai. “Hey, Kolya.”

Nikolai grunts. “What’s with that tone…” He murmurs. Olga huffs, placing her hand on her waist before tapping Nikolai’s head with the notepad she is holding. The thick part of the notepad hits Nikolai’s head hard, causing the man to even flinch.

“You know what you did.”

“W-What I do?” He says, pouty.

“Tell me why Viktor came here the other day, all sad and depressed because you’re angry at him.” Olga crosses her arms, glaring sternly at Nikolai. You look at each of them, enjoying the unprompted entertainment.

“I’m not angry at him,” Nikolai mumbles. “He was just being stupid.”

“He was trying to be helpful, as your friend,” Olga replies. “You shouldn’t just shove people away like that. You two have been friends since forever. You don’t even have a lot of friends and colleagues and you are getting angry and grumpy over some drunk conversations.” She nags, shaking her head exasperatedly.

Nikolai sighs. “Fine. I’m sorry, okay?”

“Don’t apologize to me. Go make up with Vitya himself.” She says. “Now, order.”

“As usual…” He mumbles, still sulky.

“Uhm, I’ll take the mushroom and chicken pie. Ooh, and iced chocolate.” You grin at her. Olga nods before she stares at you.

“This boy doesn’t do anything weird to you, right?” Olga asks. “Vitya told me about your… situation. No wonder the police have been around the town lately.” She says as she peeks to the window.

“Hm? Police are still searching in this town?” Nikolai’s head jerks up. Olga shrugs her shoulders.

“Yesterday, none of them appeared. Probably have moved to other spots. Or they gave up. I mean, the police are corrupt anyway…” She explains. “Regardless, I don’t think this little lady right here wants to leave you, right, Kolya?” She cackles, glancing at you teasingly. You smile sheepishly, feeling heat travelling all over your face.

“I really like it here…” You say.

“This is a very strange turn of events for someone like him and someone like you.” Olga nods to herself. “But if you are really going to stick around, my restaurant happened to be in need of one more staff, you see. Not to mention, tonight is pretty busy and I don’t have enough hands!” She grins as she bends a little to be near your eye level.

“Huh? O-Oh! Oh, are you…” You look at Nikolai who is just staring before you turn to Olga. “Are you offering me a job? Now?”

“No,” Nikolai sighs. “No, Olga… Olga, you crazy woman. I have important things to do with her! She’s not going to help you for this diner.” He protests as he glares at the lady with a sulky face. Olga only chuckles before she playfully messes with Nikolai’s hair.

“I know, I know. But, if there is another strange turn of events, I don’t mind having an addition for my restaurant.” Olga says before she walks away to go to the kitchen. Your eyes trail her before you turn quickly to Nikolai. As soon as you open your lips, he covers your mouth with his hand.

“No.”

Your nose scrunches before you grip his wrist and pull his hand away from your lips. “Why? It’s not like I do anything in the house? I don’t even know what I’m cleaning anymore.” You say, hand still gripping his. “Even the bacteria are getting cleaner. They don’t even need to shower but I showered them regardless…”

“You think I’ll allow you to walk around in this premise with chances of other bad people seeing your face? No way. You need to know, my love. This diner is not as innocent as it seems.” He says before he pulls his hand away from you and rests his elbow on the table. He props his chin on his palm. You cross your arms on the table, leaning forward.

“What do you mean by that?”

“People exchange information here. Illegal information. By ‘people’, I really mean criminals. Olga often gets bribes or ‘hush money’ to keep her mouth shut. How do you think this diner is still maintained even with few customers?” Nikolai explains before he shuts his lips as a waiter comes to the table with your ordered drinks.

He waits for the waiter to leave before he looks at you again. “Look around you, little bird. There are too many people here. So… no, you’re not going to work here. Lowly criminals may get caught but a lot of experienced ones have broad networks, you see. Your face is most likely known for those who tune in to the news. What’s easier than kidnapping an already missing person and using them for other benefits, right?” He tells you. You purse your lips as you sadly stir your iced chocolate. It is just a simple drink with whipped cream and cherry on top.

“Besides, I don’t want anyone to take you away. You still have a debt to pay, figuratively speaking.” Nikolai says before he steals the cherry from your drink. You whine, trying to stop his naughty hand but he already eats the whole fruit and puts back the small stem on your drink.

You wince. “Nikolai! Why are you being mean?” You quickly pick out the stem, dropping it on the table. Nikolai only cackles playfully as he chews the cherry. His smile is smug, scoffing at your sulky face.

“Relax, dolly. I’m the one paying so technically what’s yours is mine.” Nikolai grins as he picks up his hot tea, sipping it. He frowns slightly at the bitterness. His hand reaches out to the small bowl of sugar packets at the edge of the table but you quickly grab the bowl, pulling it away from him.

“Hey, give that back.”

“Nope!”

You laugh, almost so proud at your little revenge. You put the bowl at the spot right next to you. Pointing at his hot tea, you say, “Why don’t you drink it, hm? Hmm?” You giggle.

“Oh, I’m about to, sweetheart. Hold on.”

“What the—”

At that moment, Nikolai slips his hand inside his jacket and he takes out the exact same bowl of sugar packets from it. Deliberately and calmly, he tears open a few packets of sugar for his tea, as you watch, stunned.

“What did I say to you, sweetheart? Tricks don’t work with me.” He snorts before he pushes the bowl of sugar packets towards you. “Now you can put it away as far as you want. I’ll just enjoy my sweet tea right here.” He chuckles before he sips the drink.

“Hmph.”

You rest your chin on your palm, gazing at him. Irises trail all over his figure—scanning from his hair, white as snow, to his hands, big and rough. Your other hand creeps over to his hand, tracing your fingertips on his skin. As if it has a mind on its own, you glide your finger over the little pattern of tattoos that peeked out from his sleeve.

“What, are you interested in getting a tattoo?” Nikolai suddenly asks. You halt, right when your finger is over his wrist. You look up at him before you shrug.

“Seems scary.”

“The needles?”

You nod. “It pokes pokes pokes your skin, no? It bleeds you. But, I think it won’t hurt so much if it’s like… on certain parts of the body.”

Nikolai smirks. “Definitely. I guess if you are used to getting hurt on certain parts of your body, it doesn’t hurt much when tattooing the skin. For me, my arms only feel ticklish.” He says before he tilts his face, slyly grinning. “Maybe you should try one. On your face. It doesn’t hurt.”

“I guess it won’t hurt because my dad always hit me on it.”

“Fucking hell.”

— ♡

Mismatched eyes reflect the light from the screen of the television. People are in high spirits as the team they are cheering for is attempting another goal. Football is not something Nikolai tunes in. But there are times when his spirit also flows together with the people around him. People cheer and he will cheer too—even if he does not know who wins or loses.

However, that is perhaps only applicable to the twenty-four-year-old him.

“Do you play sports?”

He turns his head towards you. But your eyes are also fixated on the television, like everybody else. He wonders if you will even hear his answer because your question does sound like it is just a thought passing through like a breeze from the night air. “I supposed I don’t.” He says, his tone is just as careless as yours.

“Really? Then, how are you so strong?”

“Many reasons…” Nikolai mumbles, twirling his glass of vodka. His hot tea was already finished an hour ago. He finished eating way before you. “My tendency to get into fights in prison is probably one of the reasons too.”

“You fought in prison?” You finally pry your eyes away from the television, fixing your attention on him.

“I got bullied for the first few days…” Nikolai mumbles before he lets out a broken cackle. “But any man would tremble at the sight of a gun in front of their face. Unless they have the fangs of a tiger, then that is a different story. Well… a tiger can still be fought against with a falling telephone pole, so that’s that.” He says.

You tilt your head, confused. “You fought a tiger?”

“Not a literal tiger,” Nikolai snickers. “I think pure strength is not enough even for the strongest being in mankind. Creativity and versatility are important too. Strategies, plans, schemes… What’s scarier and stronger than a man who manipulates humanity to do his bidding while he sits back and enjoys the show from the crook of his library?” His eyes trail back to the television. “Even a sport requires strategies and manipulation, not pure stamina. Do you think the managers and those behind the players are not pulling the strings too?”

That’s why I must kill him.

“I mean, sport does have a long history of having bribe issues.” You murmur.

“That’s what I don’t understand either,” Nikolai nods to himself. “What’s fun with watching something that is most likely predetermined?”

“Not all sports are predetermined.”

“And not all are fair.”

You look away, staring at the table. Nikolai is also silent. He returns to watch the sport. Two players have fallen, and now one of them is going to protest at the yellow card. Next, arms open, provocation erupts to the stoic referee. The camera will pan to the spectators in the stadium. Some with hands on their head, some shout words and words that will only drown along with the cheers from the opposing team. Expectable, this show is too expectable—Nikolai sighs.

“Hey…”

Olga approaches your table again. This time, she looks visibly tired and worried. “I’m sorry for bringing this up again, but we really need a hand for tonight. One of my staff needs to go home because he has exams tomorrow. There are only three people in the kitchen, one at the bar and me.”

Nikolai frowns. Seriously? He does understand the circumstances but he could not find it in his heart to allow you to go and assist Olga for the restaurant, mainly because he does not want you to go roam around as a waitress, flaunting your pulchritude to the customers as you suggest them the most expensive food and drinks to order.

But your pleading eyes at him are certainly gleaming with hope right now.

Pinching his temple, Nikolai nods hesitantly. “Keep her in the kitchen only.”

Olga gasps and nods quickly. “Thanks a lot, Kolya.” She pecks his cheek appreciatively. “Her work is gonna be washing the dishes. You don’t mind that at all, right?” She asks you.

“No, I don’t! I’m a professional dishwasher.” You reply with a cheeky grin. As you stand up to follow Olga to the kitchen, you give Nikolai’s hand a squeeze and mouth ‘Thanks,’ to him. He just nudges his chin, shooing you. You giggle before you happily jog your way to the kitchen.

“Dummy.” Nikolai snickers, shaking his head as he checks his phone. It is past 10:30 PM and the diner will not close until twelve, he thinks. Or perhaps it will close when the sport has concluded. Because of the busy and crowded nights, your dinner time took two hours because you two also just lounging around in the diner watching the sport as well as he keeps ordering more vodka. He learns something new too—you eat later than usual when you are watching something, compared to when you only have him to stare and look at.

Bzzz!

As if the sender knows that Nikolai is holding his phone right now, he receives a message—from someone he expects will not talk to him for another five business days.

Viktor: Hey, man. You busy?

Me: no. why

Viktor: Our marriage argument can wait. But I want you to come to Nastya’s studio now.

Me: now?

Viktor: Bitch, fucking read.

Me: can i go to the mart first? i need to get groceries

Viktor: Fine. But just come, alright? You must come. Tonight. Now.

Viktor: But go get your grocery first, fucker.

Nikolai gets up from his seat and gathers his belongings. He walks to the kitchen and wordlessly barges inside without caring for the strange look given by the bartender who is busy making drinks. He slips between the chefs and gets to you who is already washing cups and beer mugs.

He gently calls your name, poking your shoulder. You turn your head. “Oh! Hey, Kolya. Are you going to join me in this adventure of washing dishes?”

“Keep your talent in words, dolly. I need to leave for a moment. Viktor wants me to go to see him. But I might be late because I’ll stop by the mart to buy some groceries. You want anything?” He asks. You hum, thinking, as your hand is brushing the cup with a soapy sponge.

“Coco pops cereal, please.” You grin. Nikolai snickers as his hand cannot help staying still. He reaches to your cheek, playfully pinching it and shaking your face as he grits his teeth.

“Alright, you cheeky gold-digging girl.”

You whine and he lets go with a chuckle. “If the diner is closed, wait inside. I’m sure Olga won’t go home until I fetch you. And don’t run away— Gah, you know what, nevermind. You won’t leave me alone anyway.” He rambles as he turns around and leaves. You watch him disappear out of the kitchen and finally turn your focus to the dishes.

The lingering touch on your cheek still burns. You smile to yourself.

Your work increases tenfold when the clock strikes midnight. The sport that was broadcasted has concluded and the customers are leaving. You and two other staff are left along with Olga to clean the restaurant for closing. It seems that there are never-ending dirty dishes to wash.

“You okay?” Olga asks after you have not seen her for a while. “Come, you can stop washing the dishes. We have no need to rush to close the restaurant.” She says as she gestures to you to come to her. You leave the sink and wince at the sight of your strained arms. Your fingers are extremely wrinkled after being in the water for so long.

Once you are by Olga’s side, she takes out a clean napkin from her apron pocket and starts to gently wipe your wet arms. “You know, compared to Vasya and Alyosha, you don’t even complain about the amount of dishes you have to clean.” She says.

“I’m kinda used to it…” You smile before peeking out from the small window that allows the chefs and the staff outside to interact. You do not know which is which but one guy is sweeping the floor while the other is wiping the table. They do not even talk to you when you enter the kitchen other than changing a quick greeting upon seeing an addition to the team.

Olga smiles. “That one, who’s sweeping the floor is Vasily. His friend—or boyfriend, considering that they always spend time in Vasya’s bedroom like boyfriends would—is Aleksy.” She says as she continues to dry your fingertips and massage your arms gently.

“How do you know that?” You ask.

“Vasya rented a room in my house. He’s a university student near here. Worked here too for extra allowances and rent discount.”

Your eyes sparkle at the new information. Interested, you ask, “Oh, you are also a tenant?”

Olga chuckles and shakes her head. “No, not at all. I just have a vacant bedroom in my house. It belonged to my son.” She replies, Strangely, her tone lowers and her eyes droop darker at the last bits of her words. You notice the tone, certainly and you do not think talking about it is right at the moment. Vacant bedroom, belonged, son. There are only a few conclusions that can be drawn as long as the answer is not definitive.

“They are not trying to be cold towards you, you know? Both of them are introverts, compared to your… man. The younger version of him, that is.” Olga smiles before she reaches to your cheek, nudging your skin with her knuckle. “You’re flustered.”

“Uhm… He’s not my man.”

“Not yet.”

“Olga…!” You pout before she laughs.

“I’m just joking,” She smiles, patting your head. “I love the guy, you know? He was a cheerful one and to be honest? Don’t tell this to Vitya, but Kolya is definitely more fun to tolerate.” She says. “But I love them both equally. Though, my life was much safer before I knew them.”

“Oh?” You look at her. “I am aware that your restaurant also does… not-so-good things… But did both of them cause you to involve yourself in such matters?” You ask carefully. Olga huffs and nods.

“They used to smuggle stuff. And my storage room was proven to be the best place to hide stuff, according to Kolya anyway. I don’t even get his logic. But, I guess words travel faster than light itself because one by one, suspicious people start to come here and pay me to keep quiet about their bad behaviour.” She explains. “I accept the money, of course. I cannot afford to let this diner be sold or discontinued.”

You take a look around and you can see the traces of the past on the flakes, the rusts and the dirt. Old. Historic.

“This is my family’s restaurant. I’ve been working here since I was eleven. I cannot just simply leave this place. It holds nostalgia.” Olga says. Her eyes are vacant, staring ahead and yet towards nowhere. “If this restaurant is gone, I’m gone. And if I’m gone, nobody could take care of Vasya. That boy is not from this country and he travelled this far just to pursue his studies.”

She whispers, “My boy would do the same too, if he had the chance…”

“You’ve worked here for a long while…” You remark before looking down at your hands, fingertips grazing against each other, feeling the wrinkles from your yet-to-be-paid hard work. “I started working around your age too.” You tell her. “When I was… twelve? Thirteen? My first job was in a very small store in the neighbourhood. I was not really good at being a cashier, so my boss lady assigned me to arrange stock.”

“Oh? Was the job worth it?” Olga asks back, still smiling warmly at you.

“I wouldn’t say that but it was fun. I got to do things and meet many people from the neighbourhood and I… got to live my life out of my house…” You mumble. “I learnt a lot of things too.”

“I heard about what happened with your father. I’m sorry for what you’ve gone through.” Olga says, taking your hand and holding it tightly. “No kids should ever live a life like that. You deserve so much more, darling. You really do. Never stop being kind, alright? Kindness is so needed in this kind of place.”

“Thank you, Olga…” You smile at her.

Olga grins before she taps your shoulder. “Kolya does not seem to be coming back any sooner but I’ll wait until you’re safe and home with him. Vasya and Alyosha do not mind waiting too. I know they don’t have any schedule tomorrow.” She says before she bends a little to look at the two boys. You also take a peek. They are laughing at each other, seeming to have delight in the small world they created.

“They’re going to come back to the kitchen for other chores. Can you go and mop the floor?” Olga asks. You nod and ask for the mop and the bucket, which Olga shows you before she calls for the boys to come into the kitchen to help her.

As you bring the mop and the bucket of soapy water to the dining area, you pass by both Vasily and Aleksy. They give you a smile and a nod before getting into the kitchen. Once again, you are left alone. You dip the mop in the water and start mopping. The channel on the television has changed to a midnight news channel, presumably by the bartender who left as soon as the cleaning started. You do not understand why the bartender and one of the kitchen staff left early but you want to try to assume the best—they probably have important work tomorrow.

Accompanied by the sound of the compiled news from the previous day coming from the television, you keep mopping under the table and the chairs. You keep stealing occasional glances at the outside world, trying to see if Nikolai is coming to get you or not. The snow is falling lightly, coating the earth with a layer of solitude.

You have been mopping for five minutes now and you finally stand straight, stretching yourself. You take a seat at one of the tables to rest. Your knees feel a little strained, probably because you have been standing for a while. Your eyes roam around the diner before they stop at the television screen.

And then the world stops.

“A dead body was discovered in Mckinlay Motel at the Russian-Belarusian border…”

“Fuck.”

Hand on his face, Nikolai’s eyes are fixated on the news shown on Viktor’s laptop. His heart is beating fast as he digests every word uttered by the newsreader. Dead body, motel, a gun, Russian-Belarusian border, your last name, his blurred identity card, his blurred face, the zoomed-in footage on his hand showing his wedding ring—

“Suicide,” Viktor finally speaks and Nikolai deliberately turns to him. Viktor looks grim and agitated. His right leg cannot stop shaking as he stares at his lap. “He shot himself.”

“Are we entirely sure this is not pseudo-suicide? The loan sharks did not orchestrate this?” Nikolai asks before he swallows nervously. He does not realize how heavy his tongue feels when he tries to talk more about this.

“No. No, I don’t think the loan sharks were aware of his… suicide. When this was first reported, the middleman even called me to confirm it. Which means… They did not participate in his suicide either. They want money, not a dead body.” Viktor explains before he sighs. “Fuck, fuck, everything is going to shit. It's all complicated now. Bloody hell…”

Nikolai purses his lips before he leans back. He is at a loss for words. Your father is dead. He shot himself. He was already at the border and he could leave anytime. He wonders why your father killed himself when the chance for freedom is right in front of him.

An issue with the passport? Official document? Money? Was he blacklisted? Was he denied by the authorities?

Hell, does any reason even matter now? Your father is dead and there is no way he is coming back to live to tell the tale of his suicide unless he can magically metamorphose himself into another body. He left you alone in this city and he left you alone in this world, forsaking you with his abundance of debt and problems.

“Kolya… I’ve… I’ve been thinking for a while about this.” Viktor suddenly speaks. He buries his face into his palms, groaning foully into them. “How do I say this… You know, you’re not the only one who’s drunk that night. That night, after I fetched Nastya from your place, I felt jealous because she basically just got out of your place and it’s like—how dare you have my girl in your place but I know it was because of our agreement to have her look after your girl too.”

Nikolai frowns at his ramble. His eyes travel around the table and finally catch the sight of half-emptied vodka on it. Viktor—or Nastasya, considering they are in her office—has been drinking, perhaps. He is probably tipsy.

“Anyway, anyway. When I saw Nastya, I noticed she had three nails polished with a light blue colour. Yeah, that’s your girl’s nail polish, maybe. Most likely. Defi-fucking-nitely. I told her to get rid of the colour because I know Nastya doesn’t like pastels. But she didn’t want to because that girl was too sweet to her. Nastya also said she would like to make hot chocolate just as how the girl taught her for me. And and and— fuck, Kolya… I know you’re smart and all, so can you tell me why I feel like this?” Viktor finally lifts his head, turning to Nikolai with his lips curled as if he is trying to pout—or was it even an attempt?

Nikolai sighs. “Vik, we are talking about… her dad right now. Can we not talk about Nastasya or her?” He says. “Right now, her dad just killed himself and I’m pretty sure the loan sharks were on their way to pursue that man before the suicide too.”

“No, that’s exactly what I wanna say, Kolyushka!” Viktor exclaims. “I wasn’t thinking straight when I immediately reported her daddy’s coordinates to the middleman. As soon as you told me his whereabouts, my mind went zoom— Ah, I should tell them loan whales.”

“The fuck are you talking about—”

“I feel guilty, Kolya.”

Nikolai halts.

Viktor inhales a sharp breath. “I feel guilty because I felt like I took away Nastya’s new friend. Zoya met her once and already wanted to fuck the girl. I think she’s cute too but not as cute as Nastya. And I took your happiness— Ahh! Why do I feel like this? I feel so… so fucking bad. She is just like any other victim we kidnapped and traded and sometimes killed. The only difference is that we did not spend over a month with them!”

Nikolai stares at his tipsy friend for a moment before he turns away. His eyes are fixed on the news again. This time, it is showing some interviews with witnesses from Mckinlay Motel.

“We detected a very strange smell from the room.”

“We tried to knock but no one’s answering. Even the calls from the reception are not answered.”

“Yeah, no one around here has seen him. But he occasionally visited the convenience store. No, he did not buy a lot of things. Only a lot of cigarettes.”

“Viktor… What do you think of the loan sharks’ next move since their debtor is dead now?” Nikolai asks, voice slow and sullen, thundering deeply from his throat. Viktor sniffles before he sits straight.

“He had a lot of debt with them. Ain’t no way they will simply let the money burn, especially with how much they have spent on trying to catch that bastard.” Viktor says. “They can probably sell his assets to make a profit but can it be enough to cover all the debt? All the expenses? Nobody even wants to rent that ugly house.”

“Certainly not,” Nikolai grumbles. “The debt may default but I don’t doubt the loan sharks will—for the lack of a better word—get revenge for all the expenditures he caused them.”

“Yeah. And one of his assets is his daughter. The girl. You know the mind of horrible criminals, Kolyushka. Money lenders or not, by law or not, this group is ultimately a crime syndicate. They’re going to get her for sure.” Viktor adds, sighing loudly as he throws his head back.

“Are you two going to let the loan sharks take her?”

Both Viktor and Nikolai look up to the door, seeing Nastasya leaning against the frame. Her eyes darken as she steps further into the room.

“Hm?” She addresses the men again. “Let her be taken? Let her take responsibility for something she did not do? What do you think will happen to a young girl with no one left and nothing left?”

Nikolai’s eyes scan her, finding her knuckles turning white as she grips the edge of the table.

“That’s why I feel guilty… At first, I wouldn’t be much, knowing she was going to be just a hostage or a bait. But now… It’s like something shifts.” Viktor mumbles. His brown irises trail up to his lover before the latter also share the same look—a sentiment that is unspoken but understood.

“No…”

Nikolai finally gets up. He takes a quick look at his watch. 12:27 AM. The diner must be closed by now. You are probably waiting for him.

“No, what?” Nastasya asks.

“You guys want to keep her, then keep her. I’m going to Peters. I have more important things to do than babysit a child.” Nikolai says, firmly. His tone is hard and rough as he fixes his jacket. Viktor bolts up from his seat, grabbing his friend’s arm.

“Are you serious? You’re gonna give her if the loan sharks ask for her? She’s gonna get trafficked!”

“Let me go.”

“Answer me, fucking coward.”

Nikolai yanks his arm away from Viktor’s grip. “I’m not gonna dwell in guilt like you, Pavlovsky.”

With that, Nikolai walks out of the studio, making haste of his steps towards his car. He enters it and starts the engine. The radio is not even on, he does not bother to do it as he drives to Olga’s diner—fast. The car runs through the falling snow that illuminates the night sky and the street lights. The world has gone quiet and will only go quieter as the hours pass.

But his mind is never quiet. Each thought produces a monster, standing by to devour his head. Words from the news are buzzing in his ears like flies, and Nikolai worries that all of those monstrous thoughts and buzzing words are leading to one person.

Oh, you…

Nikolai is not sure whether you saw the news or not. He hopes you did not. The television in Olga’s place was dominated by a sports channel, no? It was on with sports and shall be off with sports. If you are aware of what happened to your father, he will be quiet. If you are not, he will be quiet too. He will keep his mouth shut about it, silence just like the winter night.

Any mention of this will rigorously affect his plan to leave this town.

Although, deep down, Nikolai knows, his plan to leave is already plagued with doubts and worries.

He arrives at the diner in less than the expected time. Usually, it takes about fifteen minutes from VIY Studio to Olga’s place but due to the lack of people and cars on the street, especially at the hour, he manages to arrive in just ten.

The diner is already dark. The light on the signboard is off, as well as the inviting ‘OPEN’ neon at the window. From the outside, the dining area is totally sombre. There is only the white light from the kitchen area, which is visible through the small window connecting the bar and the kitchen.

Nikolai steps to the door—unlocked. He pushes it open and it rings. Two boys who are slumped at a table woke up from their sleep upon hearing the ring. Nikolai recognises them, but he doubts that they recognise him.

“Where’s Olga?” He asks one of them. One of the boys, shy and timid, points at the door leading to the kitchen. Nikolai nods, mumbling half-hearted thanks as he steps towards the kitchen. He enters it, finding Olga is cleaning the stove.

“Olga,” Nikolai calls and she turns. Her eyes widen and a tint of panic waves over her face.

“Kolya, oh my God, you’re here.” She says as she rushes to him. Nikolai frowns, ignoring the old lady as he scans the whole kitchen area, trying to find you. The panic in her voice raises concern over his heart—once again, reacting to bad thoughts flooding his mind by hastening its beating.

“She’s been in the toilet for a moment now. Told me she got a stomach ache and she needed time. Can you go and check her?”

His sixth sense tells him that there is no stomach ache.

Reluctant yet feeling compelled to go, Nikolai nods. He makes his way to the toilet area. Two wooden doors—one for female and one for male. He approaches the one with the female symbol, knocking it a few times.

He calls your name.

No answer.

Sniffles, yes. He does hear sniffles.

He calls for you again, this time a little firmer. Knocks again.

“S-Sorry, I need time…” Your muffled voice responds back. “Kolya…? C-Can you wait outside? I-I’ll see y-you outside…”

Nikolai stays still in front of the door, staring at the fake carving on the wood. He hangs his head low as his eyes stare blankly at his knuckles. “… I am outside. Not going anywhere.” He says.

“… I’m not going anywhere.” He says again.

Silence. Just as he wishes. Yes, you know about your father, that is crystal clear and obvious. And he prays that this silence will be forever—your father’s death shall never be mentioned, never be thought about.

The fiddling noise of the lock breaks Nikolai’s focus on his hand. The door is pulled from the inside, open.

“N-Nikolai…” Your glassy eyes gape at him, surprised. Your lips tremble as they try to crook for a smile. One attempt, two attempts and you finally manage to force one—unnatural and uncanny. “You’re b-back from Viktor.”

The air is tightening, choking his words from leaving his mouth. Hesitation—he can feel the heaviness in his heart to even reply to you. But for the sake of clearing the awkwardness, he nods. “Y-Yeah, I did. Come on.”

He turns around and walks off. He does not even know whether you are following him or not, for his gaze is only on his car in front of the premise. He leaves the diner first and once his boots step on the pavement, he realizes he is alone. He does not hear yours behind him.

Nikolai takes a deep breath and faces up. He huffs slowly and the cold air trails out of his orifices. Heaviness is still lingering in his heart, despite he is alone out in the world. When he hears slow footsteps approaching him, the heaviness grows more, taking over his insides. With such a burden, he turns his head around, only to see you walking towards him with a gloomy gaze on the ground.

One of your arms is hugging the ushanka you have taken off earlier. Without any word, Nikolai offers his hand and you—sensibly—put the ushanka on his hand. He then opens his jacket, slipping the big hat into the unknown.

The baby blue girl who would often cheer at the tiniest sight of his ability is only carrying a deeper shade of blue right now.

You are just standing there, so lost in thoughts that the glimmers in your eyes are lost too. The smile you once forced back at the toilet is not even trying to attempt anymore. Delight has flipped itself over, overcasting you with misery.

“Hey.”

“Nikolai…” You finally speak. Your fingers clutch at your sides, fiddling with the fabric of your clothes. Then, accompanied by a quivering breath and hoarse voice, you ask;

“Can I have a hug?”

Nikolai is silent. Oh, he really does wish to be silent. But wishes rarely ever come true.

“Uhm…” He knows it—you want to be touched, to be held. You wish for solace and comfort. But Nikolai does not want it. If his wish to be silent cannot come true, yours cannot either.

His eyes are everywhere but you. However, his body does turn towards you. His hand does reach out to you and with the most awkward voice he can muster, he offers, “How about we just shake hands?”

You stare at his hand. You nod. “Okay.”

You grab a hold of his hand before you slowly pull him and push yourself to the centre—closer. Nikolai’s body too moves on its own, subjecting itself to your whims. Your arms around his body as you bury yourself deeper into his warmth.

And he embraces.

His arms around yours, warmer and tighter. Your face against his chest and his face against your head, lips touch your skin briefly. One of his hands trails up, cupping the back of your neck as he caresses gently. And you let go. The cries and the sobs—you pour out to him and as he wishes, he stays silent and accepts it.

“My dad’s dead, Kolya…”

Sniffles.

“I don’t know what to do…”

Hiccups.

“I don’t have anyone left…”

You hug him tighter, and you press your cries harder against his chest.

“Please don’t leave me too…”

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

#WOOOOOOH YEAH #ahhh where this is going i love it #i can smell the angst and the bittersweet #I love how much reader has left an imprint on all the side characters #they all love her and thats so sweet #they're all the biggest shipper lol #color symbolism still goes so hard #boy oh boy what a good day this is #i wanna kiss you lil bro reeeee #bsd #bsd nikolai #fanfic #keshi 💗

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