Bellflowers || Fyozai

11|| The Thunder In The Soul Of A Young Man

Hello ^-^! 

It's been a while since I updated this story lol! 

Warning! 

This chapter contains angst and death! If you don't like it, please don't read it! I won't tolerate any hate comments! 

By the way I have a trauma of motorbikes since I was an accident and death of two young boys... We were not the ones who had the accident, but we saw it from the balcony... I won't get into the details, but even though my dad called the ambulance it was too late... The boys died... 

Anyway, enjoy ^-^! 

⊱ ───── {.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.} ──── ⊰

He was a behemoth of a man, standing intimidatingly and built like a mountain. His eyes were the color of storm clouds, a swirl of gray and lightning, fierce and confident. His hair was as dark as night and grazed his chin like the winds of a tempest. He was the epitome of thunder and lightning, his presence was enough to strike fear in a room. He could part a group of people just by entering with his commanding presence. 

He was a force of nature, unpredictable and uncontrolled, but he was also passionate and loyal. His intensity and boldness was enough to empower those around him and his thunderous laugh was enough to let you know that he was a man easily pleased. He was powerful and a protector, but he was also sensitive and kind. 

This man was thunder and lightning embodied in one powerful form. Hisstrength and courage was infectious, creating a feeling of comfort and securityto those that knew him closest. He was the power of nature in human form. 

⊱ ───── {.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.} ──── ⊰

Fyodor would define his third identity Raiden like that. He had the same name with the God of thunder and lightning. It was ironic for him to have a identity like that. Fyodor absolutely disliked rain, thunder, lightning and storm. Whenever there was one, he would cover inside his bedroom with blankets pulled up tightly over his head, praying for it to be over as soon as possible.

He never told anyone the real reason why he disliked those days that much... 

⊱ ───── {.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.} ──── ⊰

The sky was especially dark that day and Fyodor felt a chill all the way down to his bones. The rain outside his barred window seemed to be coming down with an intensity that was as if it were trying to match the intensity of his grief into syncopation. The distant thunder felt like a reminder of all that he had lost...

Fyodor had never been someone to hide from the rain. Rainy days had previously meant a chance to go on a walk, snuggled up under an umbrella with his lover, but now with Nikolai gone, the rain brought nothing but an unending sorrow and a pang of regret so deep that it seemed to stretch out into infinity.

Days like this made Fyodor hold onto the happy memories of his past even tighter. He remembered how Nikolai would sweep him away on these carefree days and how they would spend hours strolling through the wet, green grass. Even the smallest of things reminded him what he had lost... 

⊱ ───── {.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.} ──── ⊰

Nikolai had always wanted a motorbicycle... It was all he could talk about for years they had been together. Fyodor had always a bad feeling that was gnawing him, but he didn't say anything. He couldn't... He didn't want to spoil his lover's dreams.

So when Nikolai finally got one, he was beyond excited. He couldn't wait to take it out on the open road and experience the freedom of the wind in his air and the open road beneath his feet.