If You Don't (Fyodor X OC)

Oddly Gracious Enemy

"𝙸 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔. 𝙸 𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚊𝚔 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔. 𝙸 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚍𝚒𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝙸 𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚔, 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚘 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚌𝚎𝚎𝚍𝚜 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚎𝚎𝚙𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜" - 𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚣 𝙺𝚊𝚏𝚔𝚊

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"This is your home?" I asked as I took in the surroundings. We were following a stone walkway, surrounded by trees of various types. A large fountain was off to the side, with birds obviously bathing in it.

Further down the path was a large house. It wasnt big enough to be a manion, but it could easily fit a family of five. It was made mostly of stone, but you couldn't miss all of the glass either from the various large windows.

We walked inside, and the living room was the first area i encountered. I was pleasantly surprised by its decorative design. It was far better than I wouldve expected from one of the most wanted criminals. I noted that he seemed to like glass a whole lot, because the coffee table was made of it too. There was a staircase against the back wall, and delicate white furniture contrasted against a black rug in the center. Bookshelves were built into the perfectly spotless eggshell walls. A large TV was held in place on the wall between the bookshelves off to the left.

I took my shoes off at the front door, obviously not wanting to add any filth to his spotless floors. A man with long silver hair approached, holding out his arms. I couldn't miss the bandages around his head, practically begging me to ask what happened. He wore a grey vest with matching dress pants, with a white dress shirt underneath. He took Fyodors coat for him, hanging it up on a rack nearby. "Welcome home, sir. Is there anything I may get for you?"

"Thank you Ivan. I would very much like some fresh green tea, if you wouldnt mind," he nodded towards the man with acknowledgment.

I took my own coat off, but simply wrapped it around my forearm. This was Fyodor's home, after all. Not mine. It would be rude of me to welcome myself to the same accommodations as him.  I adjusted my shirt, and got hit with a scent of my own body odor. I cringed and instinctively backed away from Fyodor. Three days of not showering was coming back to bite me in the ass.

"I will lead you to the guest room. You may welcome yourself to it, as it is now your living quarters," he held his hand out, gesturing towards the stairs. I followed him up, careful to not touch the railing. Everything in this home was sparkling clean, and i didnt want to so much as add a fingerprint to it.

He lead me down a hall and stopped at a large wooden door. "You may roam the property as you see fit. The only thing I ask is that you do not break anything"

I felt obligated to bow. He was my enemy, sure, but there was no denying his generosity. It unsettled me in a way. He was being very kind and hospitable, but for what? What game was he trying to play?

"Thank you, Mr. Dostoyevsky. I appreciate it very much" I said. He gave a gentle smile before leaving me on my own. I took a deep breath, and turned the knob.

There was a pleasant bed with white dressings, and a beautiful patio that overlooked the nearby ocean. The doors were slightly open, and I could smell the salt water and sea breeze as it drafted through the room. This was what he considered a guest room? Last I checked, guest rooms didn't have chandeliers.

I shook my head at the notion. This mans entire home screamed 'luxury', and I was beginning to wonder what the catch was, and when it would strike. I brushed it off, and took off towards a bathroom that i noticed. It was attached to the right side of the room, and i was desperate to clean myself of the dirt and dust from my containment.