Love me better [Fyolai Highschool Au]

Failure

Fjodor didn't answer the question. Partly, because he was still completely exhausted, partly because he didn't want to. "Want some cola?" Nikolai pulled out a bottle from his jacket and held it in front of Fjodor. The smaller boy reached out for it, but Gogol pulled it away again. "You get it if you tell me", he said. "That's not fair play. " Nikolai shrugged. "You think it was fair to spread those rumors about me?" Fjodor gave him an indifferent look. He didn't have to hide it in front of him. "My school, my rules, so you better not dare to disobey me again." Nikolai let out a slight chuckle as he mustered Fjodor. Surely, he was not the most powerful sight right now. But he was too tired to object. "Whatever you say, princess", Gogol said, leaving the bottle next to Fjodor as he left.

A few hours later, Fjodor stood at the porch of a huge mansion. Dostojewsky was engraved on the doorbell nameplate. It had been one and a half year since he left that house. It had been six years since he last saw the man he despised so much. Today everything came back. His finger hovered over the doorbell. It took him a good five minutes to finally press the button.

"Fedja, please come in!" His mum cheerfully opened the door and hugged him tightly. He didn't react. His mum and sister were the only ones allowed to touch him. "Can you believe daddy finally woke up from the coma? It's a miracle! Truly wonderful!", she exclaimed while walking him to the living room. His sister Dunja already sat at the table, jumping up to welcome her younger brother. Then his gaze met the one of a middle aged man, dark hair, dark circles under his eyes, an emotionless face. Fjodor suppressed a choke. The atmosphere was heavy.

"Please, sit down you two", the mother ordered her children when she placed the food on the table. "Let's raise a toast to the recovery of your father!" Fjodor stiffly raised his glass.

The whole meal went along pretty calmly. They chatted about old times, silly things they did as kids, holidays, memories. From the outside, a perfect little family. But rotten on the inside.

"Should I take you back to your apartment, Fedja?", Dunja asked. She had lately gotten engaged with her boyfriend and of course wanted to get home now. Fjodor waved her off. "It's fine, it's not that far." He would have loved to go with her. He couldn't. He needed to clarify things. His mother lead Dunja to the door, which left him and his father alone in the living room.

"My all so dear son Fedja. You played well today." Fjodor suppressed a flinch. "Good for you that you woke up, father." The older man stood up from his chair and walked towards Fjodor. "Bad for you, you missed your goal." - "I don't know what you're speaking about." Fjodor felt the wall in his back. He was cornered. "Oh? So it was not you who put the sugar in my car tank that day? How lucky you were to not get hurt. Did you plan to sit in the car with me? Nice alibi you got there." The urge to squeeze his eyes shut was overwhelming, but he kept his face. "How unfortunate I survived, huh?" The old man brought himself closer to Fjodor, pressing him against the wall as he whispered in his ear.

"You are going to pay for it, for failing. No matter what you try, you will never get rid of me. Mark my words."