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Nikolai was walking on the field, looking at the sky above him shining flawlessly. His gaze held no judgement, just admiration as he saw little birds fly by; as well as when he saw the raven-haired man, leaning against the facade of the church balcony, skywatching; as Nikolai himself was.
But there was something, that made Fyodor standing there, vulnerable despite perfection. That, being the fact that his eyes had no glimmer.
They could have held much greater grace, Nikolai believed, if they weren't possessed by one claimed as the devil. They could have been a galaxy, containing infinite stars, wide enough for Nikolai to observe each for a lifetime.
Nikolai didn't blame him for having faded eyes, however; for he could see the same grace in them anyways, even if light was long gone from them.
Stepping along, he leaned against the facade as well. Fyodor gazed at him, as he took notice. He held Nikolai's braid of silver hair in hand, playing with the weaves.
Nikolai smiled helplessly, returning his gaze towards the pale blue sky; only to see tiny finches chirp as they flew by.
"We're just little birds," Nikolai chuckled. Fyodor didn't respond, nor did his expression flinch; he held Nikolai's hair as he did, rubbing his thumb over the strands at the end of the braid.
Nikolai never thought, how annoying the ring of a bell could be for him; and actually, for Fyodor as well, for he did flinch this time; briefly, yet noticeable by Nikolai.
Fyodor let go of the hair braid, leaning away from the facade, his arms dropping to his sides. He turned to the church hall, opting to leave for his fate.
"Fedya."
Nikolai took his wrist, tugging on it slightly, there, when Fyodor faced him, he place his lips on his.
It wasn't their first, far from it; yet, Nikolai could tell, it was their last.
Nikolai held his wrist, like a last plea; "This is a death sentence." He said as softly as he could, because yes, he wanted to run; he wanted grab Fyodor's arm and run, run as far as he could, far enough for them to be safe; to be free. Yet he knew that was not to be; not this time.
"Isn't that what you always wanted?"
Fyodor says, and pulls his wrist free, stepping towards the hall; and it's cruel, it's always cruel with Fyodor.
But it's cruel differently this time.
For Nikolai can see something anyone else cannot.
Fyodor's being emotional.
Fyodor was seated on a chair, his hands tied behind him, a white cloth covering his face. He could tell he was in the central hall of the church, for no place in there was as bright.
He could hear a chair being dragged in, and someone placed on it. He then heard chains clatter from the same spot. For once in his life, his mind had stopped swirling; for once, he didn't conclude what he heard was.
The cloth was then removed, light stinging his eyes as they tried to adjust.
It was Nikolai.
And the clatter wasn't chain, but chainsaw.
The same chainsaw he once was destined to die with, but hadn't because of a childish dream, was placed over his left shoulder to his right thigh; right over his heart.
"Koly-"
Before Fyodor could utter, blood spilled across the light rays leaking from pale yellow windows.
A thud was then heard, as Nikolai's half torn torso fell to the tiled floor, fresh blood still leaking from it.
Fyodor did not move.
His face stood the same emotionless one.
He watched.
He watched the blood leak from the corpse.
He watched Nikolai's eyes go faded, same as his own.
He didn't flinch.
"Man, it's true they say... he's truly the devil..."
"His ally died in his face and he didn't show an ounce of sensation."
"What a scary monster..."
Fyodor did feel something however, despite all the whispers he heard.
He felt something, split; or rather, shatter; right about where his heart was supposed to be, every time his eye caught a sight of the smile lying on Nikolai's pale lips.
Fyodor was led to his cell; he heard the heavy iron door close behind him. He glanced at all the Bible pages taped to the walls, and the crucifix, hung from the door; to make whatever devil was inside of him go away, or at least, kept at bay.
He dropped to the floor and felt the coldness of it on his legs; it came as a surprise to him for he somehow felt things more vividly now; the cold, the dampness, the pain.
Pain?
Something shuffled in his clothes as his body shifted. He slipped his hand in his pocket and brought out a small paper note, folded neatly.
He unfolded it.
It was Nikolai's handwriting.
ты прекрасна
A warm liquid started flowing off his face, more specifically, his eyes, and it was salty; he could tell because some of it found its way to his caught open mouth. He begun to shiver. Realization washed over him like cold water on a winter day.
Nikolai's last wish had been to look at him as he died.
Because Fyodor was the most beautiful thing he believed he had seen in his life.
And he had left the note in his clothes in the balcony, because Nikolai knew Fyodor's mind would dump that memory forever and never observe the meaning behind the events.
Because he knew Fyodor would never let himself feel love except when it's punishment.
And now it was.
It was punishment.
"We're just two little birds."
"Kolya..."
Alas, for in those brief moments, Nikolai wasn't to see;
Fyodor's eyes did glimmer,
Like an infinite galaxy.