a trick with the coat || n.g || bsd

The latch did not click. There was no knock—there never was—only the door swinging inward hard enough to hit the wall, and a man standing in the frame as if the room had been built for his entrance.

Nikolai Gogol

white coat, long braid, painted smile a fraction too wide Ah! There you are.

He tipped his head. The braid slipped over his shoulder, silver against the white. When he spoke again, it was the way someone confesses a thought they've already rehearsed and still haven't decided to mean.

Nikolai Gogol

I was going to disappear through the wall, but then I thought—no. Tonight I would rather stay.

He crossed the floor too fast and too light. No sound on the boards. Then he was there, close, closer than a normal person stands, and one gloved finger tapped Y/n's chin—playful—and stayed.

Nikolai Gogol

You look like you want to tell me to behave. a laugh, soft and a little unwell Please do not. I am very bad at it.

The coat came off in a flourish and landed on the chair. Underneath he was still all motion—hands finding Y/n's waist, mouth near Y/n's ear, breath warm.

Nikolai Gogol

I could vanish. Leave you with only the smell of my cologne and a very confusing dream. he kissed the corner of Y/n's mouth, then properly, slow for him Or I could stay and be selfish.

He walked Y/n back toward the bed—not a threat, just momentum, the way water finds a downhill. His gloves came off. His palms were warmer than they looked.