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At last, Feofan has some free time on his hand and rushes to see Zandik with excitement.
By the time Feofan opens the door, Zandik is nowhere to be found, the room is quiet and empty, then he remembers—
Ah, Zandik is no longer here.
Feofan closes the door and walks inside the room. He used to come by here a lot and he would see Zandik playing the piano so beautifully, he couldn’t afford to interrupt but wait for Zandik to finish while admiring the scene.
This is more than just an ordinary room. It was where they used to spend most of their time together. A lot of things happened here, a lot of memories. Feofan’s confession, their first kiss, and sure, they’ve done some naughty stuff that is better left unsaid. They’ve had arguments and made up. Shared their smiles and laughters.
To Feofan, it was… home.
Feofan is trying his best to forget Zandik or at least move on, but it’s impossible when even the room still smells like him. He goes to sit on the floor, resting his back against the wall before lighting up a cigarette to get rid of Zandik’s lingering scent.
Their conversation is starting to play inside Feofan’s head.
“Do you have anything lined up for when this is all over?”
“...Hard to say. Field work always takes quite a toll on me, as you know. Once I’m in Snezhnaya, I’ll start with a well-earned cigarette.”
“Why are you so eager to ruin your lungs after I went to the trouble of replacing them for you?”
“If you have an issue with it, feel free to try to stop me.”
Looking back now, like a pathetic little fool, Feofan was just begging for Zandik to come with him.
Feofan had previously made the tough choice to give up smoking for Zandik’s benefit. He managed to keep himself under control with Zandik’s assistance. His habit has resumed again now that Zandik is no longer with him. If Zandik caught him smoking, he would be scolding him and hiding his cigarettes like he used to.
The reality is that Feofan was willing to take care of his health and live as long as Zandik did just to be with him. Zandik was the only person who brought him joy for four hundred years. But once that individual is gone, what even is the point of doing that at all? He would rather die and join Zandik.
Now Feofan is still waiting. He always comes by this room, hoping he would see Zandik. In his four hundred years of living, he has become accustomed to Zandik’s presence that he sometimes forgets Zandik has already left just like he did today. Even so, he’s still wishing for Zandik to return.
Feofan looks at the piano seat where Zandik used to sit, which is now empty.
If you still care, come back... Scold me and hide these cigarettes like you used to… Don’t you hate to see me smoking in this room? It’s starting to reek of cigarettes, Zandik…
Feofan clutches his knees and buries his face there, helpless tears welling up in his eyes.
“I miss you.”