Chapter Text
Fyodor was a religious young boy. He was an Orthodox Christian. He used to visit the church every morning with his mother, his only family member. But one day while going to the church, Fyodor and his mother got into a car accident. Fyodor survived with many injuries, but unfortunately, his mother didn't. The church got to know about this. They knew Fyodor for a long time and he was loved dearly by everyone in the church. So, they buried Fyodor's mother in the cemetery right next to the church and sort of adopted Fyodor. Fyodor lives in the church since then.
Years have passed. Fyodor is 14 years old now. He moved on from his mother's death. He visits his mothers grave every Friday and leaves flowers or light incenses there. He became a very own of the church. The head priest was a father figure to him, the older nuns were like mother figures to him. And the younger priests and sisters were sibling figures or friends to Fyodor. So, he was doing really well in the church.
There was a garden of the church, which was Fyodor's 2nd most favorite place. He would be there every single day. It was like his day would be incomplete without going to the garden. Which kind of would be. Because watering the flowers became Fyodor's daily routine.
The garden was beautiful, like something that came straight out off an unreal magazine. The garden ground were painted green with fresh green grasses. There were many flowers, such as rose, tulip, marigold, sunflower and many more. There were some pretty trees such as willow and wisteria. Oh, there were also some pretty flowers that were poisonous. Such as lily of the valley, death camas, lupine, autumn crocus, foxglove and more. Fyodor planted the toxic ones, of course. Who else would do that. The church let him, but with a caution sign. The sisters playfully called it "Fyodor's weaponized corner of the garden."
Just like any other morning, Fyodor was watering the flowers. He was lost deep in his thoughts, thinking about this boy he saw yesterday. He saw him quite a few times around the church, but Fyodor had not a single idea who he was. The head priest never seemed to mind, so Fyodor assumed that the priest knew the boy or something and that's why he comes around. But the weird thing is, that boy never entered the church. He just stood outside.
Despite the slightly creepy vibes Fyodor got from Nikolai, he had to admit the boy looked a little...cute? Cute wouldn't be the right way to describe him. There was an eerie feeling about that boy, but at the same time, he also somehow gave off those 'ray of sunshine class clowns' vibes. The boy had mismatched eyes. The right eye was emerald green, like the green of a forest. His other eye was greyish blue, a scar over it. The scar made Fyodor curious, how did that boy get such a scar? His hair was long, white. It was white like snow, and it looked so soft. Fyodor almost wanted to poke them, almost.
His thoughts were interrupted when a sister called him, "Dear, don't you think you are watering the poor flower too much? It's gonna drown at this point." The sister said softly, placing a hand on Fyodor's shoulder. Fyodor looked down at the flower he was watering and oh, he indeed watered it too much. The poor flower was drowning at this point. He immediately stopped watering and looked sheepishly at the sister.
"Oh, I apologize about that." Fyodor apologized and placed the watering can aside on the bench. The sister smiled softly and gently patted Fyodor's head. "It's okay, my dear. What got you so distracted anyways? Got a little secret to share with the class?" She asked teasingly. Fyodor didn't seem to catch on the implications yet. He smiled a little and shook his head. "Not really. It's just that I saw a boy around the church many times. I was just thinking about him, nothing else."
The sister couldn't stop a giggle from escaping at how innocent Fyodor sounded. Fyodor's brows furrowed a little in confusion as she started laughing. Then the realization finally hit Fyodor harder than the puberty truck ever could as he caught on the implications. His cheeks tinted red as he flailed his arms a little. "It- It's not what you think it is! It's not something like that! I just find him weird! I don't- Umm- It's not like that!!" He tried to defend himself, sounding a little too whiny. The sister raised her hands in mock surrender, still giggling. "Okay, okay! You definitely don't have-" Fyodor cut her sentence off with a shout. "HEYYYY!" She laughed again like there was no tomorrow.
She wiped away an imaginary tear, straightening slightly. The sister wanted to laugh again at how red Fyodor turned but she suppressed it. "The prayer will start in about half an hour, Fyodor. Be there in time. I gotta go now, bye!" She bid Fyodor goodbye and disappeared in the church. Fyodor let out a huff. He grabbed the watering can and started watering the flowers again. He was pouty and sulky now. If anything, he was annoyed by the way that boy was always around the church! How could the sister imply that he- UGH! Curse that! Fyodor didn't even want to think about it.