I'm really worried about this story becoming too complicated or unreal. I'd like to hear back if the reader gets lost in the story. The plot for this story has been on my mind for a year now, and I'm just now piecing everything together. This is my first Reader Insert as well as any Fan Fiction, so feedback would be much appreciated. I have the potential to make this better. (:
(Now an OC, no longer a reader insert.)

Many hours later she awoke to the crackling of a warm fireplace across from the couch which she lay in the dim room. There wasn't but a single light on, all light came from the large elaborate fireplace. Looking around the large room everything seemed so obscure. The room was decorated in a very extravagant, elaborate manner. Dark, thick curtains covered the only large window which took up an entire wall, without them the snow would have been blinding no matter what time of day. Rich browns and reds filled the room, giving the fallacy of warmth. In all sureness there was a silent blizzard proceeding to take place outside of the thick walls which she had come from.

Abruptly a troubled man opened the door, his vision panned to the couch immediately while the girl jumped and made eye contact. He was the man from before, only you could make out his psychical features now. The way he smiled at her seemed very urbane, and he wore a casual black sweater, outlining the boldness of his body shape and broad shoulders. He was a very tall man, a little over six feet. Eyes so ice cold they must have seemed violet to her in the light, making her breath hitch for a split second at the unnatural sight.

"привет." His voice was somewhat ominous, but his smile solaced, and he wouldn't hurt a soul.

She shifted uncomfortably, giving an awkward smile and wave to the man. "Hello."

Realising the girl doesn't know Russian, he quickly apologised with a bow. "What is your name?"

"And who am I referring to?" She was quick to not give away too much information too quickly. Of course, she was in a very obscure position with an extraordinarily ominous man.

"Apologies once again, I am Ivan Braginski, at your service." There was a somewhat proud smile to her response.

"Daniella Allen Claire" The girl cocked her head to the side to study him a bit more. Even with a few words and actions Ivan seemed like a very formal gentleman.

"Daniella" He tried it on his tongue. "I like it, fits you."

"I'm sorry. Would you mind telling me where I am?"

"You are here resting in my guest room." Ivan responded with a sarcastic dumbfounded gaze.

"Yes... and how I got here? How my clothes are changed?" She really couldn't hope for a one-night stand. Please don't be the case, she prayed to herself.

"I found you outside in the blizzard." Ivan took a seat on an armchair that sat across from the couch. "Unconscious. You've been out for a couple weeks now."

"H-How..?" Daniella stuttered. She tried to think back but her mind was indistinct and couldn't remember anything from before she woke up but her name. Every letter in her name was special. It must mean something, something important. Trying to picture her name in her foggy mind, each letter would become closer and closer together until they are cluster phobic and be unable to breathe, just as her lungs would tighten up with them. Opening her eyes she looked around the room and found the same problem with the furniture and decorations, it was too close. Too much.

The next thing she could do is question. Is he telling her the truth? Was she really out for two weeks? Why can't she remember anything?