"Longing, of course, becomes its own object, the way that desire can make anything into a god."
-Mark Doty
The entirety of the car ride was silent after Kate's sharp words towards Fyodor. The pair arrived at the restaurant and entered arm in arm. Kate was pleased that Fyodor finally began to behave well. She wasn't dreading the evening with him anymore. He even pulled out the chair for her as soon as they got a table at the restaurant.
The restaurant was nothing too fancy, a casual one in the town square. The casualness allowed Fyodor to continue wearing his usual clothes and Kate to wear the dress. It was full due to tourists, but because Fyodor wasn't from another country he got seating priority. What truly helped them out, even more, was Kate's perfect Russian. She spoke like a government official (which she was but they didn't have to know). Fyodor was truly impressed by the woman sitting across from him.
"Miss Chopin, why did the guild send you to represent them?" Fyodor inquired. Instead of asking in a pushy way, this time he showed great interest and no hint of rudeness could be detected. Kate realised it was a genuine question.
"I suppose it is because I am the one who speaks Russian." She shrugged slightly, not knowing the true answer herself. She did know, however, that her ability gave her an advantage against Fyodor, which was probably the true reason why she was sent.
"That couldn't be it. I speak Japanese and English other than my native tongue and so I could have conversed with anyone. Why send the petite American woman to Russia?" He wondered aloud.
"I'm afraid I cannot answer your question in the way you want me to. Until we have an alliance formed between us, I can't give out any more information about my organisation's members." She shook her head.
"Alright then, that's understandable. So, tell me about yourself-- what you can talk about, of course." He folded his hands together in front of him.
"What do you want to know?" She asked, her brows creasing together slightly. She doesn't know how to talk about herself that well, she was never supposed to.
"What do you like to do?" He asked.
"To do... for what?" She tilted her head slightly in confusion.
"Surely you can't work all day every day. When you aren't working, what do you like to do for fun to pass time?" He reworded his question to help her understand better.
"For fun? I... I don't know." She shook her head, a sad expression filling her face. This piqued Fyodor's interest finally.
"How do you not know? Do you simply sit around with that boring expression on your face?" He asked, leaning forward.
"Yes." She answered with a slight nod.
"You sit around when you're not working?" He asked, baffled by her statement.
"My mother will usually give me instructions on what to do. Sometimes I play the harp, other times I practice ice skating or even play tennis with her, or she has me embroider." She explained monotonously.
"Are you a 19th-century monarch? Who does these things?" Fyodor scoffed, finally understanding the woman in front of him.
She was the type of woman who never had a choice for herself and even doesn't know. Ironically Fyodor hated these types of people despite his manipulation of others. He hated people who didn't think for themselves and relied on others to tell them what to do. He hated that man was given free will and chose not to use it. What was the point of sinning in the beginning if you do not sin again? In his mind, the mad monk, Rasputin, was correct; if you do not sin, you cannot repent and if you cannot repent, you cannot be closer to God.
"I'm sorry that my upbringing offends you." She apologised, with no emotion on her face. Fyodor clicked his tongue in disappointment. He had gotten her to crack earlier but she already fixed and reinforced those cracks.
"Fine, are you any good at playing that harp?" He asked, leaning back leisurely.
"I would like to think so." She nodded her head.
"You'll have to show me, I'd love to hear it someday." He smiled slightly, thinking of his cello. Her face softened and her mouth opened slightly as the words left his mouth.
"Do you play as well?" Kate politely asked in return.
"No, I play the cello." He shook his head. Kate's eyes lit up in response.
"I've always admired the sound of the cello. Would you please play for me?" She asked, clasping her hands together with excitement.
"Of course, as long as you play your harp." He smiled, forgetting about his disgust at her life just seconds prior.
"Of course, it would be my pleasure." She nodded her head eagerly. Fyodor loved seeing this display of emotion from her. He felt accomplished when he saw her no longer expressionless, especially when he was the reason for that.
"Oh, the problem is that my harp is at home in America." Her face fell in sync with her words.
"That's not a problem." He waved his hand and shook his head. He knew exactly what he must do for her.
"But-"
"Oh, look, here comes our food." Fyodor pointed at the waiter, interrupting her.
Once the food was placed in front of them, they ate silently. Kate ate like a princess. Fyodor was in awe at how perfectly she performed no matter where she was. She was always a lady.
"This is very delicious." She stated politely before placing another bite in her mouth. Fyodor stared at her in awe. The way she chewed was even perfect.
Her bites were all small so that she could swallow and begin a conversation within a moments notice. Her delicate hands held the fork in an elegant manner that most wouldn't appreciate the way Fyodor did. Her opposite hand was in her lap, atop a napkin. She would only bring the other hand up to use her knife. Even the way she chewed dazzled Fyodor. He couldn't tell if her manners irritated him or enchanted him.
"It is." He agreed as he found his voice. As he stared at her, he noticed something. Kate Chopin looked a lot like the angels one would see in a renaissance painting. Her face, although expressionless, appeared kind and ethereal. In fact, that was the adjective he would use to describe her as a whole; ethereal.
That was what bothered him so much. If he was supposed to be god, then why was this angel seemingly better than him? She made him appear like a demon, which was something he didn't like. She was far too good for his world, and yet she was there still. He desired her because she was as perfect as he could find on this Earth. He desired to corrupt her and turn her celestial soul into something as dark as his, or maybe even darker.
She was an angel, and he a demon, but that is wherein the fascination lied. Darkness always attracts light, and vice versa. She shone too brightly for him but he still wanted to touch her light and carry a piece of it with him everywhere as a reminder of what he conquered. He wanted her to be his concubine, his trophy. He would show her off to others and say, "Do you see this? I am God because I have conquered this angel. She is mine and mine alone because I tamed her. I alone am God, and this is indisputable."
He smiled a dark smile that had crept up from the pits of hell and from Satan himself. He was now more motivated than ever before to have her. Fyodor was willing to become obsessed with her if it meant he would win in the end. He had no fear of consequences or obstacles because he would beat them all so long as he got his way with her.
Even he was unsure of what he wanted to do to her. Would he break her mind or her back? Not even God knows. He wanted her to submit all control to him and him alone. He wanted to own her mind and her body. His feral instincts were more demanding the more he thought of her. How was it that he was so obsessed with someone he had just met?
"Mister Dostoevsky," She called, her words snapping out of his trance.
"Yes?" He asked, shaking his head slightly.
"I've asked if you've finished eating yet. I'm sorry to bother but it's been quite a long day for me." She hoped he would get what she was implying.
"Ah, right, my deepest apologies. Yes, I'm finished eating. Let's take you back to the house so that you may rest." He nodded his head roughly. He quickly paid for the meal and called a cab. The pair rode in silence once again.
"Thank you very much for paying for my meal as well as providing me temporary housing for the night." She expressed her gratitude.
"Of course, it's no problem at all." He nodded, a small smile pulling on the corners of his lips.
"What time are we to begin negotiations tomorrow?" She asked, turning her head to face him suddenly.
"Uh, noon should be good." He nodded as he stuttered slightly. He forgot all about negotiations for the moment. He was solely focused on how he was going to obtain her.
"Very well." She nodded her head before turning back to look out the window. Fyodor could see her reflection on the window. He noticed the wonder in her eyes and the way her lips were slightly ajar as she took in all the sights. He very much liked that face on her because it was so genuine.
When the pair returned home, Ivan was waiting outside. He opened the cab door to let them out. Kate exited first while Fyodor paid the fee. She walked to her room and shut the door, preparing for the night. She undressed and ran a warm bath in the bathroom that was connected to her room. She bathed and allowed this time to let her mind wander to the night.
Her dinner with Fyodor was just as silent as she thought it would be. He was lost in thought the entire night. In fact, she learned more about him during the car rides than she actually did when she was sitting down with him. She was good with the polite conversation but the fact that they had spent the entire night together meant their conversations were expected to be more than that. For the entirety of dinner, he was staring at her, in fact, he hardly ate at all. Kate only barely ate more than he did. Under his gaze, she felt like prey and that made her paranoid. She thought of what would happen to her if he found out she was a spy.
Would he out her to the guild as well? Would he kill her? Would he force her to turn against the government? She didn't know the answer to any of these and that's what scared her the most. As far as she knew, Fyodor didn't even know about her ability. If he found out, he would use her to aid his causes. He would be unstoppable thanks to her. Because of this, she must never allow him to find out anything about her true origin.
She was scared because she knew she didn't just feel like prey, she was his prey.