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The moment he saw how Chuuya could be like his god, Fyodor forgot how to breathe. Seeing him in the skies in his true form made him lose the strength in his legs, kneeling in the grass he saw how Nakahara could destroy the world if he wanted to. He felt foolish for not having discovered him sooner, for not having realized sooner that he was all he needed. In his plans, in his existence, in his life, Chuuya seemed to be everything. He would make everything easier, he would bring him a light, even if it was a reddish light and affected by the evil of the world, he would still bring it to light.
And into his hands, he would commit his spirit.
Her strands of reddish hair seemed to match so much between her fingers, and her face full of perfectly designed freckles, was what Fyodor most wanted to kiss, and in chaste kisses, he kissed each of her little spots. The bright, blue eyes, the warm, welcoming smile.
It was all Fyodor needed.
Nakahara accepted so quickly to be part of his plans when he understood his motives that Fyodor wanted to cry. He never, ever imagined that he would make plans with anyone.
“You wouldn't leave me, would you?” Chuuya asked, his hand went to his boyfriend's face, and his eyes remained closed and calm.
“Not at all.” He smiled small, even though he knew Nakahara wouldn't see it.
“Not even in your thoughts?” Nakahara opened his eyes, hopeful and afraid at the same time. Fyodor solemnly denied, Chuuya smiled a little, but his smile faded in seconds “And in your heart?”
“Never.”
“Really?”
“Believe me.” Chuuya widened her eyes slightly, then smiled, approaching Fyodor just to give him a brief kiss.
“You know, I love you, don't you?” He blinked slowly. Words from him reached Fyodor's heart, and he felt himself shudder, until a bigger smile came to his lips.
“I Know. And I also know that I love you too.” He replied, without even hesitating. He could hear a cute laugh coming from Chuuya, and then he could feel her wrapping him in a tight hug.
Chuuya was like a god, an angel from heaven only for Fyodor, that being said if he had to be modest, not talking about Chuuya as the god he appeared to be. After all, he was handsome as one, he was good as one, and he enchanted him as one.
Nakahara hid his scars, hid his fears and his pain from everyone who saw him, but when it came to Fyodor, he had no problem telling it, and that seemed to resonate with Dostoevsky as well. Because when it comes to the redhead, he didn't skimp on telling his deepest fears, he wasn't ashamed of his accomplishments and flaws in front of the redhead, he just wanted Nakahara to love even the parts that he hated the most in himself.
The redhead didn't even understand how his love reached the point of accepting Fyodor's crazy plans, even accepting that he turned him into a vampire. And even though Chuuya was still there, deep down watching everything that happened, he felt good, after all, that would bring the happiness and victory smile that he loved so much from his boyfriend.
However, everything seemed to fall apart at the last moment, when he realized what was happening, when he came to his senses, and heard Dazai's voice. He heard him saying goodbye, and almost desperately, he looked at Dostoevsky, seeing him completely soaked. The Russian realized it at the same moment when Chuuya came to, and all the fury, all the hatred for Dazai, turned to despair. Desperation, because he wanted to cry when the angel deserved to die.
And in his selfish suicide, Chuuya would die too.
And there he realized, he couldn't die, he would never die because he felt good with Nakahara to the point of wanting to live and win for him, even abandoning his plans.
But now, in his last breaths, he wondered if it wasn't too late to realize it.