21-Day Riddle ✯ Gogol x Reader

Day 4

The day after you had unexpectedly met with Nikolai, you had seen and felt absolutely no trace of him at your office, which felt eerily odd after his constant interference over the previous last two days, as well as his confession that he'd infiltrated every one of your systems in a long-standing plan. You felt incredibly uneasy at that, because it meant that if he wasn't taunting you with his theatrics, he was elsewhere carrying God-knows what mischief.

You were afraid, but you wouldn't admit it.

What did materialize over the last day, however, was the increase of police presence around your building. This frustrated you incredibly, as you had been under the impression that they had finally given up on pinning you as guilty for the disappearance of a business man and that the other day's final collection of statements was enough.

You had handled their last interaction with you with great care, playing the innocent, helpless woman to the best of your ability. However, something had changed. Both in their investigation and in their opinion of you, and you could tell. Eyes watched your every move more now than before, whispers following you wherever you went while you worked in your office or in any other space. It was suffocating.

What was worse was that every now and then, your headaches that had started at the restaurant with Gogol flared, and your mind became a boxing match between voices pressuring to come out versus your own will pushing them down.

You want to yell, scream, find any escape, and yet you could do none of that, because even a hair out of place would cause an influx of suspicion.

Sitting at your desk now writing out a report, the early morning light illuminating your office, you lean your chin on your hand, exasperated and incredibly bored.

You set your pen down momentarily, closing your eyes as exhaustion starts tugging down at your eyelids, incoherent flashes of the dream that had kept you up last night disturbing you even now. Wanting to keep your eyes closed even if only for a minute to regain your aura of authority in preparation for the meetings and run-ins with the police, you are immediately interrupted as if the brief stop of your pen scribbling away triggered some alarm.

You stare at the door, heart beating like mismatched drums before you stand up from your desk briskly, the fear that it was the police again increasing as you get up and walk over to the door.

There were only so many excuses you could make, and if they had more evidence now, lying would become much harder.

Slowly you turn the handle, but a hand behind it pushes it open much quicker so that you need to step back in order for the door to not slam into you.

"Miss [l/n]!" Dressed in a familiar, classic suit, dark hair swept and a beautiful face decorated with extremely expressive eyes that changed colours in the different lights, Nikolai Gogol currently disguised as Chichikov bursts through, slamming it shut before pulling you into an embrace.

Alarmed, you try to push him away with a gasp escaping you, face hot as you are forcibly pressed against him until finally, he lets you go.

You stare at "Chichikov" in bewilderment, an uncomfortable sense of déjà vu from the first time you met him hitting you as you watch him put on another show after showing up at your office. It had all happened a bit similarly, and you shudder at the thought that it was both times on purpose.

"What are you doing here?" You say, out of breath from the surprise, and Nikolai grins, so excited he's unable to stay in character.

There's a wild air about him, a familiar taste of insanity, though he might have been the one with most reason in the room.

"Aw, you didn't miss me? Come on, admit it." He teases, offering his hand to you smugly, which you decline, because you knew it was a temptation to use your ability and become intoxicated with your own power and his mystery, with the repercussions of your own health.