BSD Chapter 111 spoilers!!

A summary of my thoughts on the new chapter

He loves me... he loves me not

Note : wrote this at 2 am after crying my eyes out thinking about fyolai so like yeah, I'm just trying to contribute to Fyolai content, also wrote this while listening to bernadette because why not TWs: hurt no comfort, angst, character death, kinda graphic descriptions?, ooc (maybe idfk), Nikolai being insane, gay, not proofread, english is like my 4th language. pls tell me if I missed anything I'm not good with these things

word count: ~530

Emotions. A sweet illusion, a cage, chains. Nikolai wasn’t sure how to describe it. But he hated it. He hated it so much. He wanted to rip his skin off, gouge his eyes out, bash his head against the wall. Anything to make it stop. Anything to stop himself from feeling all those feelings. He hated it but he loved it, like a sweet sweet drug.  A drug he knew he should stop consuming but got addicted to anyways.

And the worst drug of them all? Fyodor. His addicting touches, his intoxicating kisses, late at night. Nikolai despised it to be honest. He hated being so dependant on Fyodor, he wanted to die, or to kill Fyodor. He wasn’t sure.

So why... why was he crying? Why was he sobbing so pathetically on the floor writhing in pain and calling out to his lover, the very same lover that just stabbed him in the back, not a single trace of regret or pity in his eyes. The very same lover that was already gone, probably going on with his day while Nikolai was slowly bleeding out on the dirty floor, broken sobs escaping him as he hugged himself, craving at least an ounce of affection. Emotions... Right. He hated them. He never really understood what he should feel. And even now, he didn’t know what to feel. Love, for Fyodor, whom he adored with every cell of his body? Or anger, or the deep wound, getting bloodier and bloodier by the second? Regret, for all the things he didn’t say out loud.  Or probably jealousy, for Fyodor’s ability to stab him without a single second thought. He wasn’t sure. He wanted to scream. He wanted to stand up, and stab Fedya himself, plant the knife deep into his chest. He wanted to make him suffer as well. He didn’t want to be alone.

And yet he did none of that. His cries gradually grew more and more silent, the crimson poodle beneath him staining the carpet. Nikolai laid there, holding his hands over his chest. Ultimately he got what he wanted... But it didn’t feel great. It was... sad. The drug he got so addicted to had finally taken away his life. _________ Fyodor silently came back a few hours later, standing over the lifeless body silently, an unreadable expression on his face. This was probably for the best right? Nikolai wanted to die anyways and... and he would get in the way of his plan either way, right? The plan he sacrificed so much for... This was just another necessary sacrifice, he shouldn’t feel bad about it. And yet he couldn’t look him in the eyes. The eyes that before looked at him with adoration were now looking into the void, dried tears sticking to the face he used to pepper with kisses.

Slowly he crouched down next to the now lifeless body, planting a last kiss on these cold lips, before standing up and turning away, eager to leave this chapter of his life behind. though he knew Nikolai’s love would haunt him till his own death. But perhaps, he didn’t mind it that much.