#bsd doa

— NIKOLAI GOGOL๋ ࣭ ⭑๋ ࣭ ⭑

one second your charging at your clown of a boyfriend—the next you're on the couch holding a bloody tissue up to your nose.

nikolai babying you.

he didn't have to do anything but lift his arm from his coat and BOOM. he doesn't flinch upon hearing your body hit the wall.

"well aren't you just full of energy today, little dove. what vivacity do you have bubbling up in that little head of yours~"

he enthusiastic personality was quick to wear off seeing you practically drag yourself up to sit up straight, holding your nose with your plam.

he's quick to your side, not even fighting back as he picks you up at ease in his arms and takes you to the couch.

he takes a tissue out of the box that was sitting on the table in front of the couch and places it on your nose, a worried smile on his face as you slap his hand away to hold it yourself.

"last time i ever try a trend with you," he gave you the most dramatic gasp ever.

he leans his head against your thigh, looking up at you with curious eyes as you explained what you were trying to do—of course, giving you an 'non-injury' reaction the next.

he pushed you before you could even wrap your arms around his neck.

— SIGMA๋ ࣭ ⭑๋ ࣭ ⭑

jumps at your sudden touch, almost knocking the both of you over.

he freezes. he has no idea what is happening or what you're trying to do.

he lets you kiss his face and gets confused when you pull away all pouty and sad.

"what are you doing?"

"what are you doing?" he turned the question around, genuinely asking—not even trying to be sassy although he certainly wouldn't deny being sassy.

"im a random girl, you'd let another girl kiss you like that?"

he shrugs, " i—well, no! but you were so fast i couldn't—okay, may we try again, please?"

here you were again, ready to pounce on your boyfriend who looked more prepared this time.

as you shout the iconic line; he ran.

no i mean ran, out the room, causing you slide on your socks pass where he previously was and topple to the carpet.

he's gone. left the room.

and your left on the floor, giggling your ass off.

safe to say when he came back, "did i do it right?"

you kissed him, hands cupping his cheek still in a fit giggles.

"you did perfect!"

@ ɪʀʟʏʟᴜᴠᴏꜱᴀᴍᴜ — 2 0 2 5

Sigma hasn't had time to fall in love.

He spends most of his time working to run the casino, painstakingly managing, memorizing, placating, preventing and fixing things and people left and right. Hard days and sleepless nights are devoted to his job, and the free time he managed to squeeze in used to be filled with unanswered questions and prayers to make sense of his lost self. Used to be, because now-

You tap the table twice, leaving your player's card on top of your chips before walking up to Sigma.

"Ah, I was dying to see the prettiest face in this place." You link your arm in his and direct him to walk out to a quieter area. "Let me give you a small break. You must be tired, darling."

He'll be damned if this isn't love.

Feeling like only half a human doesn't mean he feels things halfway. No, he sinks into his emotions, tied and overpowered by the vines that grow from the deepest corners of his heart... And at the seed of it, there's you.

There's you and your flirty self, walking arm in arm with him through the casino, slithering your way through the crowds that look for you with idle chatter and unfinished affairs. You brush them off with a wave of your hand, a glass of liquor sent through the waitresses, or one of your cheeky smiles.

The picture is not dissimilar to what Sigma looked like before he spotted you, and even though he is the one in command of the place, he finds himself wishing he could be half as graceful as you appear right now.

He finds himself wishing he was good enough to have your attention fully on him, even when you're moving through the crowd.

He squeezes your hand, exhaling softly. He can't take his eyes off of you, and God, does he long to be under your gaze too. How could he not?

When he heard you were extending your stay at the casino, for once, he was more relieved than stressed.

He didn't just memorize your habits and the things you liked and regularly asked for because it's his job, he was actually happy to learn about you. Letting you into his unfinished world, it was like letting the sunshine in through the window.

You were so kind to him, so attentive. It was nerve-wrecking at first. Still is, to a degree. But it's also addictive.

"My, my, you're as pretty as a sword lily..." "Ah, thank you." "That's not the smile of someone who recognizes the flower I just mentioned." "I... Admit I don't know much about flowers." "It's a compliment nonetheless. I'll bring you some one of these days."

But the sun doesn't shine forever, does it?

Perhaps that's not a good metaphor. Your company has become rarer with time, your visits to the casino less frequent.

"... Y-You brought me coffee?"  "I did." "But I should be the one t-" "Ah, ah. Nope. Take it easy tonight. You work too hard." "... Would you wait until I finish here, and I'll treat you to dinner?"

Sigma isn't one to take things for granted.

"I'm going on a business trip soon, so I won't be coming here for a couple of weeks." You comment casually, gazing at the night sky. The wind blows your hair back and out of your face, and Sigma thinks he might cry at the way the moonlight bathes your face.

"There will always be a spot for you at the casino. I'll have your cosmo ready for you when you come back."

You let go of his arm with a sigh, a small smile on your lips, too sad for his liking. Your eyes dart to the floor as you turn on your heel towards the door, an insipid "Good night" on your lips.

"Make sure to call me if you need anything..." He stammers, his volume lower with each hesitant word.

Then again, the looming threat of losing however little he has has always been there. How could he get comfortable enough to expect something other than the loneliness that chases him endlessly?

When he sees you under the lamplight of the bar, your usual cosmopolitan in hand, that beautiful laugh of yours brought to life by a dark-haired man, he realizes he might have gotten too comfortable with you.

He got too used to your warmth, and now the wind of the night burns on his skin, a scowl twisting his features with jealousy for someone he couldn't allow himself to recognize for fear of mistreating him later on.

He stares at you instead, cheeks rosy and lively, and he wonders if it's from the alcohol or from awakening affection. You place a hand on the other man's arm, the gesture comfortable and familiar, those lips he longs for so much moving through the conversation. Sigma strides out of the room, a pit in his stomach with the shape of inferiority.

"Want to be my plus one for the night? I promise, I'll give you the best time you've ever had." "Oh, sorry to disappoint, but I can't accompany you for long. I have to- Ah..." "Give me a chance, will you? I don't think anyone would turn heads at you hanging out with one of your patrons." "That's not what I'm worried about." "Then grant me this dance. I'll convince you by the end of it." "... I suppose that's the least I could do for a first time customer. What's your name, зая?"

A knock on the door of his office startles Sigma out of his drunken nap. He checks his clock, 2am, and he's too dizzy to worry about all the work he missed in however long he was out for.

He's relieved to hear your voice call his name.

"Sigma? The staff are worried, you haven't answered in hours. Are you alright?"

He knocks half of the things on his desk to the floor when he stands up. When he opens the door, his vest and shirt are missing, leaving him stripped to his black turtleneck, contrasting against his pale complexion. His shoes are tossed aside carelessly on two different corners of the room, there's an empty bottle of gin beside the desk and a half-finished one dangerously close to the edge of it.

You barge in and close the door behind you before anyone else could see him like that, bloodshot-eyed and disheveled, hastily wrapping an arm on his waist to support his unsteady body.

He slurrs your name over and over, like it's a full sentence and you don't understand the meaning of it. You sit him down on his chair and dim the lights, which he thanks you for immediately, not having noticed how overwhelmed he was by them.

"Well, you're clearly not alright," you sigh. "I don't think I've ever seen you drink during work hours."

"I don't... Get like this... Often," He stares at you through half-lidded eyes. "God, you're lovely."

He smiles when he realizes he caught you off guard by the compliment. You rush to get him a glass of water, which he downs inmediately.

"And you decided to on a Wednesday night?" You brush his tangled hair out of his face, moving the long layers off the back of his neck and fanning his nape with your hand, making him shiver as his body cools down.

"I saw the love of my life flirting with someone else, what was I supposed to do?" 

You freeze. He grabs your wrist and twirls you to face him, pulling you closer until you have to support yourself on him, almost falling onto his lap. "And it got you here again. It's been a long time since you've visited me in private."

"I- You- You're too drunk right now." You deflect.

"I am." He nods, laying his head on your shoulder.

You sit sideways on his lap, his familiar smell of vanilla and cloves mixed with the liquor, invading your senses. You run your hands through his white locks, to which he presses his face further on your neck.

"You never told me you have a partner..." You comment absently, trying to figure out what to do with the drunken manager in your arms.

"I don't."

"Ah, it's unrequited love."

"It has always been. I mean, you're so nice to everyone. I'm the one who got over excited..."

You push him back by the shoulders, making him look you in the eye.

"Say that again?"

"... You're the kindest, brightest, most wonderfully charming person in the world, зая."

"Sigma-"

"And you deserve someone as beautiful as you. I just- I thought I..."

"Sigma, darling-"

"I let myself think for a moment that I could be your person. That I had the right to. But-"

"Sigma!"

You cup his face in your hands, exasperated, ready to scold him for being so unbelievably oblivious to the nature of your gestures, but he stares at you with those lilac eyes, dressed in fondness and fear and...

“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, love. I prefer to see you smile.”

He scoffs, wide eyed and bewildered. You smirk. "Did you think I was flirting with someone else earlier?"

He nods, lowering his gaze with shame.

"At the bar... The guy with the expensive watch and the nice shoes..."

You open your mouth to point out how absurd his assumptions are, but he grabs your hand and presses it to his chest. You feel his heartbeat, all fast and jiterry, beneath your palm, his breathing uneven with the nausea of drunkenness.

"My heart always does this around you, you know." He smiles sweetly. "Remember the night we met? When you asked me out to dance. I thought 'I couldn't possibly go on if I ever have to be apart from this person again.' You leashed me in completely."

You pull his hand back, press a chaste kiss to his knuckles. "I wasn't trying to leash you. I was trying to bring you and your stupidly handsome face into my life."

His cheeks turn a deeper shade of red. He leans closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "Well, you've brought me home for the first time in my life."

He kisses your cheek, then hides away on your shoulder once again, suddenly too conscious of himself. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, "I know it's selfish but, please, would you stay with me?"

You hug him tightly, nuzzling the crown of his head.

"I wouldn't ever think of leaving."

➵ This character is a new one for me, so I hope I did him justice. Figuring out his voice was very fun!

➵ I made him give reader a nickname in russian because everyone in the DOA except for Fukuchi comes from that country, and he's Fyodor's creation, and there's the theory that he's based on Sergey Nikolavich Syromyatnikov... It just seemed fitting alright. Also it would be really hot.