#mitya x reader

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〉masterlist.

mitya's hands are cold.

it should be expected given snezhnaya's typical temperature — the kresnik's torch only does so much to rid the city of snow flurries and ice. and yet the quickness with which he slides his fingers under your coat sleeve, against your bare skin, and just under the cuff of your glove feels less like a kiss after a cool drink and more like plunging your arm into a snow bank. the gasp you release just makes him smile, quick to apologise and quicker to retreat before the onslaught of attention you're sure to give him. his quiet giggles do little to help his case, your eyes already wide when you turn away from the shop window — darting between bright purple irises, a red nose, and cheeks tinged pink screaming, 'i've been left to the elements for too long'.

the grin doesn't leave his face when you begin your fussing; the routine scolding about keeping warm, the wrapping of half your own scarf around his neck (a scarf he watched you make much too long in length for just one person. perhaps your plan was to wrap him up with you all along?), and the practiced transfer of a glove from your hand to his are completed with a frustrated pout.

after the few minutes of furrowed brows and laughs, mitya is sure the two of you are officially joined at the hip. the scarf is just tight enough to be secure, one of his hands now gloved while the other is intertwined with your own and stuffed deep into your coat pocket. your free hand grabs at his arm, shaking him gently back and forth to get your point across while he giggles and nods in understanding. his spectral arm flies out from behind him to keep your hat from falling, and he's almost surprised you didn't relinquish that as well. although, he's sure you would've if you could see his ears.

you don't seem to realise how close you've pulled him — so close, in fact, that neither of you are sure whose breath you're seeing between you. his free hand is out of his pocket before you know it, wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. your arm is trapped against his chest, leaving him free to snuggle his face into your shoulder.

"thank you." he whispers, grin turning a bit mischievous as he moves your scarf down slightly, pressing his ice-cold nose against your neck.

the shriek you release has him pulling away, thoroughly amused by how lightly you smack at his chest — in either annoyance or embarrassment, he's never sure. you slowly straighten yourself, shooting him a glance before tugging him away from the shop.

"you've gotta take care of yourself, mitya — i don't need you freezing to death!"

"i know, i know..." he laughs, hoping you'll drag him all over the city before you have to part ways.

his hands may be freezing, but you always make him feel so, so warm.

the theater was filled with people from all walks of life– noblemen, high ranking fatui soldiers, business men, troupe fanatics, and even a scientist from the royal energy commission who should definitely be on duty and not sneaking around the theater.

but how can mitya deny an opportunity to witness the spectacles of art right in front of him? besides, he's not here to slack off! he's here for inspiration. watching an opera can help him clear his mind and come up with new ideas.

he scanned the area looking for any signs of guards from the armory palace. when he deemed the coast as clear, he rushed over to his seat at the front row.

he was lucky enough to be acquainted with vodyanista as she was able to provide him front row tickets or else he might have to stand at the back or worse, not see the show at all.

he doesn't always ask for front row tickets– in fact he doesn't ask at all. vodyanista really insisted that he watched this show as they had new talents that she wanted him to see. and when the lead soprano herself offers such a deal, who is he to deny?

several musical instruments started to play, signifying the start of the show. as various melodious sounds started to fill the space of the theather, the curtains draw open revealing that of the 'new talent' vodyanista was talking about.

mitya could tell right away (as he was a regular at the theater). he was sure that he hasn't seen your face around the theater before for if he did, then he surely wouldn't forget such beauty nor would his ears ever forget such a euphonious voice.

he was drawn to your voice as would a moth be to light, as a bee would to a flower, as a man be to a siren.

the singer had their eyes closed for the act but when they had opened them mitya couldn't help but to drown in them. everything about you was beautiful in his eyes. your sound, your eyes, the way you moved around the stage as you acted your part, everything. his eyes followed your every move.

only when the lights dimmed and you were no longer in sight did he snap out of his stupor. you were no longer on stage and other actors alongside vodyanista have started acting out their part.

"having fun now, are we?"

"AH! major valeriy! you scared me!" mitya stared back at the man who was glaring at him.

major valeriy's presence here means only one thing: mitya's fun time has come to an end.

"what a coincidence to see you here.... major valeriy." he laughed sheepishly. "i didn't know you were also a patron of the arts."

valeriy with his cold glare crossed his arms. "i'm not. but i sure am a patron for catching slackers not doing their job."

mitya was quick to defend himself "i'm not slacking! i was just... looking for inspiration!"

unfortunately for the scientist, valeriy didn't buy his excuse and had force him to work again.

what a shame, mitya couldn't even see the end of act 1! he had reluctantly followed valeriy out of the theather and back into his workspace.

even though he could only enjoy the first few minutes of the play, mitya was already satisfied by just the pretty face he saw earlier. the thoughts of the singer filled his mind, motivating him to finish his work early to visit the theater and ask about that singer.