You know you should have stopped it the moment you allowed Gogol to kiss you, like an exotic drink that you were thrilled to taste, only to find poison on your lips instead...except you couldn't, and you didn't. It felt like a blissful ride despite your subconscious warning you of the consequences.
Still, you want to explore the rhythm of this man that intrigues you so much, that differs from everyone else that has played with you. You want so much, and by the force of Nikolai on you, you know he wants to give it to you. You both want to give a different sense of freedom to each other...but the touch is dangerous, and the choice is more than a simple mistake. You almost wish you had kept the desire to yourself; but alas, would it have been worth it?
Gogol likes to play games with riddles, and surely he would have pulled it out of you over and over again if he could as if it were an answer to an easy quiz for his own enjoyment.
Yes, that you are certain of. This wildfire between you two was something that couldn't have been stopped, and destruction was always inevitable. Of course, that wasn't something you were worried about right now.
Nikolai Gogol runs his hands through your hair as he pulls you towards him, his heart beat loud next to yours, your hands and bodies in a hot dance with one another, arms wrapped around his neck loosening as his kisses trail down from your lips to your jaw, then your neck, then your collarbones...
Why...why does this feel so good?
It's wrong. This is all wrong...but why do I not want to let go? I want to let him do as he pleases, I want him to show me all he promises under his theatrics, under his quest for freedom...
I want him to show me how to breathe again.
You feel your body shiver as you bring Nikolai's head back up to your face, your eyes meeting his again and not being able to recognize who it was looking at you. Silver hair messier than usual, body relaxed against yours, the anguish one could often find hiding under his layers is gone, heart soaring with yours. Your lashes flutter as you lean in once again and hover your lips just above his, both your breathing heavy, anticipation weighing down on the tension around you.
"Kolya..." you whisper, pain apparent in the way you say his name as if you were on the verge of begging.
Gogol chuckles under his breath as he trails one of his fingers from your cheek and down to your lips, stopping you from talking any further, parting them just for him.
"Games of chance like this are so much more fun without any unnecessary talking...I prefer hearing other things."
---
Holy crap.
Out of breath, you stare at your reflection in the washroom mirror belonging to the casino area hours later, gawking at the mess you had been made into. You didn't end up having the self control you needed to stop anything from happening with Gogol, but after a gut feeling of fear, you had to leave even though neither of you were done with the other. You felt embarrassed, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Your hair is all over the place, your dress that had been given to you by Nikolai earlier crinkled and your face still coloured from the turn of events with the clown, marks on your neck barely covered by your hair as proof that you hadn't gone crazy and made up the rush you had been filled with.
It's only afternoon.
Quickly, you put high efforts into fixing up your hair, smoothing out the dress, and situating yourself so nothing could be seen unless you knew where to look, cursing yourself for allowing your wants and curiosities control you as if you were Pandora in Ancient Greece.
I have to be more careful...thought I don't regret it...
I'm too indecisive, and making any wrong choice could cost me my life here.
I just have to get to my room without being bothered, then I can change and I'll be fine.
So you do, you leave the washroom, keeping your gaze straight without turning to distract yourself, and you make it to your room trying to look as not-agitated as possible; something that was hard considering that your heart rate is up and your ability made sure you knew that, without being able to come to the conclusion of why. As soon as you are in your room, you go to your wardrobe to find yourself a turtleneck to wear, choosing your only grey one and changing to black pants after a short shower in an attempt to clean yourself of the traces left all over you. Of course, there are some things without a fix.
I should know better.
As you re-do your hair, you hear a chime from your phone, your heart skipping a beat. It was very rare of you to get any text message, and the fact that anyone was texting you at all caused unease. You didn't have many contacts anymore ever since you decided to stay at Sky Casino. Going to check on it, you let out a breath of relief as you see it's only Sigma, his message reading:
'Hello [f/n], I just wanted to let you know I'll be dropping by your room soon to discuss Sky Casino's masquerade night tomorrow that I'm sure you're already aware of. However, there's something else I wanted to talk to you about to do with the D.O.A...see you then.'
You stare at your screen with a blank expression as you let go of your hair and let it fall around your face, rereading the message over and over until you let it sink in that because you've been completely ignoring your actual job, you had completely forgotten about scheduled events meant to attract more customers, such as the masquerade night. You aren't sure what is worse anymore, the fact that your manager was going to talk to you about something that completely passed over your head, or the fact that he had some news to share about the decay of angels. At this point, you aren't sure which would have greater consequences...although, after where you went with Gogol...
I'm forgetting my place.
You shiver as you think of Sigma, Nikolai and Fyodor each looking at you with judgement, your life in their hands, fit of their nickname for you. Their little mouse, their pet. They could put you down, or they could continue experimenting with you. It was all their choice, until each one started talking to you separately, and suddenly you don't know what to do.
No, nothing beats the uncertainty of news from the decay of angels.
With a sigh, you go back to playing with your hair, catching yourself in your mirror, your mind trying to suppress the thrill of him all over you. Biting your lip in thought, you feel yourself get hit with confusion as you come to the realization that you no longer knew who 'him' was in your head.
It shouldn't be a question,
A knock at your door interrupts you, and as you go to open it calmly expecting Sigma, your heart does a flip into your stomach as you open up to Fyodor Dostoevsky instead. The young man doesn't wear his ushanka hat, but the rest of his outfit is relatively the same as usual. His purple eyes are void of any light, but the rest of his expression tells you that he is pleased to see you; or at least, as pleased as he could be considering who you know he is. You don't know how to react, you aren't sure why he's here in the first place, but for the first time since your ability had started to lose it's control again, it's all silent. Fyodor's heart beats softly, heard my audible to you, and your own has ceased to exist as you struggle for words.
"Did the cat catch your tongue since I'd seen you last, [f/n]?" Fyodor asks with a smirk, tilting his head so his black hair falls over his face further, eye glowing against the porcelain skin and raven hair contrast.
"I-" you stop, letting yourself breathe, trying to loosen yourself up with the knowledge that this man in front of you can read every small detail in your actions, and he enjoyed it.
"No. I'm just surprised to see you here." You admit, backing away from the door, wondering to yourself why he was here and not Sigma.
"Surprised? But I wasn't even done with you the last time I saw you." Fyodor steps forward, enough to not have you pull back, but enough to make all the hairs on your body stand on edge.
"You should be glad to see me, [f/n]. I've finally found the perfect place for you amongst the decay of angels...don't you want to hear it? Or maybe your mind is too occupied with something else...or someone else?"
I should have known better.
Now what?