𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔇𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫'𝔰 𝔇𝔬𝔩𝔩

Part 9

"I was always hungry for love. Just once, I wanted to know what it was like to get my fill of it-- to be fed so much love I couldn't take anymore. Just once."

- Haruki Murakami

The following day, the doctor arrived, and upon examining Kate, declared that she simply needed rest and antibiotics. This was much to Kate's displeasure but Fyodor was determined to nurse her back to health.

"Oh, how embarrassing, so many men have seen me in my nightgown." Kate buried her red face in her hands.

"It's just clothes. At least you're wearing some at all." Fyodor leaned back into the chair as he said nonchalantly.

"And you've seen my hair in such a messy way." She squeaked.

"Hair is hair... You've seen mine after all." Fyodor took off his ushkana and touched his own greasy mop.

"I'm so sorry you've seen me this way." She frowned.

"I'm not. What for, anyway? I think the most beautiful thing is seeing a person as they are, not what they make themselves appear to be." Fyodor responded in a way that reminded Kate of what she would see in the movies. Kate grew even redder in her cheeks in response to his words.

"It's not proper for a man to see me like this." She lifted her sheet up to her nose, peering out at Fyodor.

"Your mother taught you that?" He asked, gaining a simple nod in response.

"Makes sense. Although it's not improper or shameful, in fact, it's human." He leaned closer to her. She leaned back but her eyes flashed with curiosity.

Fyodor had realised that now he had gotten through her almost impenetrable walls, the girl he had to deal with was very innocent and child-like. He wanted to push on, and see what else she was made of, but that would require delicate work. What he asked himself was how he could teach her a way to be human again that wouldn't destroy her.

"In this day and age, everyone always thinks they're caught in uncompromisable positions, but they fail to realise the power they have. They can say 'yes, that is me, what's wrong with it?' They can move forward with no judgement from others because it is the twenty-first century and anything is possible here." Fyodor smiled at her. She slowly brought the sheet down and revealed her own small smile. His heart melted at this soft smile that reached her eyes.

"I've never thought of it that way." She looked to the side, her cheeks flushing red.

Fyodor has been the first person to see this many genuine emotions on her face. She was usually an unemotional woman, and she took pride in that. However, here she was in front of Fyodor, no front put up and entirely emotional. Her hands drifted to the messy ponytail that Fyodor had pulled her hair into while she was asleep. She was surprised that he could even do this, but a look at his own long hair made her realise that anything was possible when it came to him.

"You seem happier." Fyodor pointed out. Kate's heart sank at these words and she didn't know why.

"I think I am." She nodded slightly, the light leaving her eyes once more. Fyodor instantly realised he had made a mistake in mentioning this.

"That's a good thing, of course! You deserve to be happy." He quickly tried to fix his mistake.

"I'm not too sure about that." She shook her head softly. Because she had no loyalties, she had betrayed so many people who had trusted her. You don't live like this without feeling sorry for all you've done. She was sorry, but she had understood it to be her job.

"Why wouldn't you deserve happiness?" Fyodor inquired, tilting his head.

"I've done horrible things." She shook her head, keeping it brief.

"Haven't we all?" Fyodor shrugged nonchalantly. Truthfully, he didn't care about her past or what she's done, he only cared about her right now. He believed that people did bad things because bad things were done to them. He knew it was a cycle of viciousness, and there was no ending it. He had done his own share of horrible things, which made him not feel the need to judge others in this sense.

"But I don't deserve happiness. I'm supposed to give it to others." She shook her head, remembering her mother's words.

"You know something, Kate, you keep talking and talking about serving others but I'm not sure you believe it. In fact, none of our conversations have felt real until last night. That was the first conversation that felt right between us." He sat down on the bed, locking his eyes on hers.

"I..." She breathed out, unable to form a sentence. She knew he was right, and she hoped he didn't notice but deep down she knew that he knew.

"Don't lie to me and tell me that it isn't true. You've been conditioned to believe that you don't matter and you have no control over yourself and that just goes against everything that's natural." He leaned forward to tuck a loose hair behind her ear.

"Okay, I won't say it isn't true. How would you change it? I'm someone else's doll and I'll always belong to someone. I'll always be one. We cannot change our nature simply because someone asks us to. I can pretend to, nothing more, nothing less." She shook her head slightly, eyes trained on her lap.

"I have a friend who specialises in this kind of thing. Perhaps, he can help you too. But I don't want to hear you say that again, you belong to nobody but yourself." He spoke firmly. His tone was the type she knew to follow orders from, so she would follow these. She wouldn't talk like that about herself to him again.

"Yes sir." She nodded, not realising what she said. She instantly turned red after calling him sir.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to call you sir!" She turned red, shaking her head and covering it with her palms. Fyodor simply laughed heartily.

"Don't apologise, it was cute. I think you should do it more often." His voice was low as he leaned closer. Kate only grew more red in response, incredibly flustered now.