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When Ivan opens his eyes again, it’s to the realization that he’s still alive. As frustrating as it may be — given it’s not his first nor his second attempt — he doesn’t feel the need to react much, as usual.
But unlike other times, he doesn’t wake up facing his bedroom’s ceiling. Wherever he is at the moment lacks the usual glowy stars that Sua helped him put up after noticing his increasing interest in all things stars and space related back in third grade.
His eyes adjust to the light after a few blinks, and his brain helpfully supplies an answer to where he is — at a hospital.
Looking around, he finds that he’s alone in the room, he can hear faint footsteps and hurried whispers of people passing right outside the door. He’s used to waking up alone after attempts, no one paying too much attention to a few hours of absence — maybe a few missed calls from Till, but nothing concerning enough to the point anyone would come looking for him — and that familiarity helps soothe the growing discomfort he was starting to feel.
He didn’t mind being at the hospital, but that must mean that someone had found him, and in a rather embarrassing state at that. Of course someone would have found him eventually if it had worked, but he wouldn’t have to deal with the aftermath.
But that’s not what happened, so not only was he alive, but now someone other than him would know about his attempts — because obviously they’d ask and Ivan genuinely doesn’t have it in him to lie about everything at this point — and also feels guilty about what they had to witness when they found him.
He takes a quick look at his arms and grimaces, they are bandaged. He can’t see what’s under it but he can definitely feel the stitches. This isn’t his usual method for this, he’s not a fan of being in physical pain for long periods of time. Dying can take a while and surely it wouldn’t have been a pleasant death, but he was feeling especially hopeless. His 18th birthday was just around the corner, and nothing worked, his last overdose attempt left him throwing up stomach acid for days.
He felt like he wasn’t trying hard enough. If he wanted to die so badly then maybe he should try a method that would definitely work, one where was little chance he would survive. He made sure no one was home, made sure he replied to all the texts he had waiting for him so no one would suspect immediately, that the letters he had written and rewritten along the past years and months were hidden in a place only someone who cared would bother to look at. He had no idea someone would find him, no one ever did, no one never even suspected there was anything going on.
And what was worse is that he had no idea who could’ve found him. He can’t even prepare himself or what he’s gonna say because he doesn’t know who it is, and he feels guilty. He doesn’t remember the state he was in before blacking out, but it surely wasn’t the best of views, and he hated that he had to see the reaction to what he did.
Ivan doesn’t get to overthink too much before he hears a familiar voice getting closer on the outside. Shit.
“He hasn’t woken up yet, so he might be in shock when he finally does, if something happens don’t hesitate to call us, alright?” A stranger woman’s voice said, her tone gentle and reassuring, probably a nurse.
“Is it really okay for me to go in alone? I’m not sure if—” Another voice — that he recognizes immediately as Till’s — speaks, but the nurse shushes him before he can continue.
“I’m sure you are worried about him, and it’s not our place to intrude. It’ll be fine.”
Till doesn’t say anything back, or at least Ivan doesn’t hear it. The nurse leaves Till at the door and Ivan can still see his unmoving shadow at the door, after a few seconds of hesitation the handle is finally turned.
The silver haired boy opens the door slowly, as if he was scared of seeing what’s inside. Ivan panics for a moment before deciding to close his eyes and pretend he’s still asleep, settling into a comfortable position and schooling his expression before the other gets inside, just so he doesn’t have to face him yet. If Till was the one who found him, he’s not sure if he’ll ever be able to look him in the eye again.
The door closes, and quiet steps approach him, probably headed for the chair that’s right beside the bed. He hears a tired sigh leave the other’s lips, and tries his best not to tense when Till’s warm hands touch his own. His fingers brush his knuckles, caressing them lightly before enveloping Ivan’s hands with both of his, holding it tightly.
“I wish your hand wasn’t so cold right now.” Till says quietly, letting out a shaky breath.
He’s just talking to himself, he thinks.
Till was always warm, and Ivan was always cold. Usually, people didn’t enjoy being touched by someone’s cold hands — at least that’s what Sua always told him when they had movie nights and his feet would accidentally brush hers, resulting in him getting shoved off the couch — but for some reason, Till loved snuggling closer to Ivan because of his body temperature.
“Are you sure that’s not just an excuse to cuddle?” Ivan teases, but still makes more space on the bed so Till can make himself comfortable next to him.
The silver haired boy scowls, but the effect is lessened by how his skin reddens from the tip of his ears to his nape. “We have literally slept together on the same bed since we were five. If I wanted cuddles I would just ask for it, asshole.”
Ivan hums in agreement, a small smile appearing on his face as Till legs’ intertwine with his own.
“It’s hot, your skin just feels nice.” He’d mumble after a while of Ivan staring at him. Sometimes Ivan would tease him a little more, but most times he’d just let it slide so he could also enjoy his best friend’s warmth.
It’s quiet for a few minutes, Till doesn’t let go of his hand not even for a second, and he can feel it trembling slightly. He’s taking long and deep breaths, still shaky and very clearly trying to hold back tears. Ivan really didn’t want to face Till now — not with the possibility that he was the one who saw all that — but his resolve crumbles the moment he hears a sniffle coming from his side.
“I know you’re awake, why won’t you talk to me?” He cries and Ivan’s eyes shoot open and immediately find the other's bright teal eyes brimming with tears.
“Till—”
“I don’t care.” Till interrupts him and nearly pounces on him for a hug, careful to not upset his wounds, as if he was something precious. “I was so scared.. Fuck Ivan I— I was so fucking worried.” He says with a wet voice, and Ivan can feel warm tears dampening his gown.
If this happened under any other circumstances, Ivan’s heart would’ve been beating so fast that there would be a risk of it perforating his ribcage. Of course, having Till so visibly worried and affected by the situation still does something to him — but the guilt that makes his stomach churn distracts him from any heart palpitations he could be having.
He lifts his good arm slowly to hug Till back, moving his hand up and down slowly as the others’ breath stutters, only stopping when he finally calms down enough to look him in the eye.
Ivan feels so selfish for not wanting to be here to see Till break down in his arms.
“Why did you pretend to be asleep? Did you think I wouldn’t notice?” Till is staring at him so intensely that for the first time in their lives, Ivan can’t bear to stare back. He purses his lips and looks down to his hands, the ones Till had just held so tightly and desperate.
Till waits for a reply for what feels like seconds, before he lets out a sigh and wipes at his eyes, — it’s useless, Ivan can tell he’s still crying and he knows that will only serve to make his eyes sore and redder than needed later on — he sounds defeated.
This is it, Ivan thinks. He probably hates me.
Like everything in his life, his friendship with Till was temporary. He’s genuinely impressed at how long it lasted, but he had always known that the end would come eventually, and he dreaded it so much. He could hear the ticking of the clock every time the other boy laughed so hard he’d tear up, when his eyes would sparkle whenever Ivan arrived with his favorite takeout without being asked, when they’d lie down together during sleepovers and Till would always fall asleep first, when he listened to his steady heartbeat and tried to sync their breathing patterns just so he could do it in the future when the time for Till to give up on him came.
He could hear it especially louder when he’d wake up and find the prettiest eyes he had ever seen already staring up at him, with something that, if he didn’t know any better, he’d commit the mistake of calling it affection.
Ivan wasn’t made to be permanent in anyone’s life, he wasn’t made to be permanent in the life of someone like Till. Always so full of life, love and aspirations. He’s always reaching for the impossible, no matter how far it looks, Till is the kind of person whose will is so strong it can make reality bend around him.
Ivan is nothing like that, he’s living only because he has no other option. No grand ambitions, no dreams, no future plans he looks forward to. He simply settled for a life that was enough to satisfy his parents’ ambitions for him in case he didn’t die like he’s been planning — and trying — to.
Someone like that doesn’t deserve a spot in Till's life. He deserved people who were bright and full of life like himself, and not someone who would soon only become a source of pain and disappointment. Ivan knew that, and he didn’t plan to stay by Till’s side for so long only to make him suffer, — he was too good and no matter how dirty and disgusting Ivan’s existence was, he knows that someone as kind as Till would mourn and suffer for him no matter how undeserving he was of his tears — but Ivan is unbearably selfish.
He couldn’t help but stay, carve a place for himself in Till's soul, where he would never forget him even when he was long gone. His presence had a magnetic effect that pulled Ivan in and made him act before he could do anything about it, he would decide that today was the end and in a matter of minutes he would find himself latching onto Till like the parasite he was. Ivan’s a star on the verge of collapsing and pulling everyone he holds dear with him, and yet, he can’t bring himself to keep them at a safe distance.
These are the consequences of his own actions. This is where everything crumbles, and it’s only fair that he’s still alive to watch it happen.
Ivan swallows the lump in his throat, and raises his head to lock eyes with Till once again, preparing himself for the moment his best friend will become a stranger to him.
Till is still looking at him, like he hasn’t looked anywhere else since he entered the room, there are tears streaming down his face and Ivan can see so many emotions swirling in the ocean in his eyes. He looks so beautiful and the guilt Ivan feels for thinking that makes him want to die.
“Do you not want me here? Are you—” Till bites on his lower lip, Ivan’s hand twitches as he has to fight the urge to stop him like he usually would. “Am I making you uncomfortable? Should— Should I leave?” He chokes on a sob and Ivan can physically feel his heart breaking.
When he still doesn’t say anything, something flashes in Till’s eyes and he gets up to leave but the raven’s hands immediately shoot up to grab at his arms, wincing slightly at the sting on his stitched up arm. “Don’t go.” Ivan pleads, he must look truly miserable because Till sits back down without being asked twice the moment he turns his head back to look at him.
Even now, Ivan can’t stop being selfish.
They don’t say anything for what feels like ages, it’s clear that Till is waiting for him to say something — anything — but Ivan is so scared he can’t bring himself to talk. No matter how much he prepared himself for the day their friendship would end, he was never ready — he doubts he’ll ever be — and now anything he says can be the last straw for them.
When he sees that Till really won’t give in to say anything, Ivan swallows the lump in his throat and speaks. “W-Was it you?” He forces himself to look at him, and he finds that Till’s gaze is already locked on him, with tired eyes and drying tear streaks.
His eye-bags are darker than usual, He notices.
Ivan thinks that maybe Till didn’t understand what he was referring to with how long he was taking to reply, but then he sighs and nods weakly.
Fuck. “Till—”
“I went to your house and when you didn’t open the door I just.. I just decided to climb and get inside through your window and when I got in.. Y-You.. You were—” Ivan hugs him tightly before he can continue and only then does Till notice he’s hyperventilating. He hides in the crook of the raven’s neck, crying as Ivan keeps threading his fingers through silver locks.
“I’m sorry..” He chokes out on a sob.
“Shh, it’s okay, let it out.” Ivan replies, trying his best to sound calm and not like his insides are disintegrating at the sight of Till shaking and crying desperately in his hold. He doesn’t deserve someone like him.
“It's just.. Fuck I was so scared.” Till brought his hand up to feel Ivan’s heartbeat, but he couldn’t stop trembling. “There was b-blood everywhere— And you were so cold, I thought I lost you forever.” He said.
“I’m here.” Ivan said, gently placing a hand on Till’s cheek and turning his head so they could look into each others’ eyes. He wished he could do something to lessen his pain, but he knows that’s a view that can’t be forgotten so easily. “Just breathe, okay? I’m here.” He says again, wiping the silverhead’s tears with his thumb.
The other nodded almost imperceptibly, and Ivan laid back down slowly, bringing Till with him and resting his head on his own chest — hoping that his heartbeat and breathing could soothe the other boy somehow —all while still caressing his head, and mumbling comforting words. This is the least he could do.
“Ivan..” Till whispers after a few minutes, voice hoarse and tired from crying.
“Hmm?”
“I’m sorry.. You’re the one in a hospital bed but you’re still comforting me.. I’m such an idiot.” His voice cracks at the end. Ivan is once again reminded of how all of this is his fault. “I didn’t— I didn’t know you were struggling. I thought everything was okay, you were acting like you always do.. I should’ve noticed, I’m such a fucking bad friend.”
“Don’t say that, Till.” Ivan says, tucking a strand of hair behind Till’s ear when the other looks up at him from where he was laying on his chest. “You’re my best friend, you just—” He sighs. “No one was supposed to know, and I didn’t expect anyone to notice, because there was nothing to notice.”
“What are you talking about? Ivan, you— You could have died if I had arrived any later! What the fuck do you mean there was nothing to notice!?” Till is looking at him with disbelieving wide eyes, there was clearly anger coating his words, that he was trying his hardest to not let it show — probably in consideration for Ivan’s current situation — and he would’ve found it endearing if he wasn’t so.. tired.
“Till..” Ivan sighs. “It’s complicated, I just.. I didn’t think…”
I didn’t think you would care? I didn't think anyone would care? Not even Mizi, or Sua?
That’s a lie, and he knows it. Ivan knows they would care, he knows all of them would be shaken up and who knows, maybe even traumatized, — that's why he should’ve tried harder to push all of them away, not only Till. To drown in his own loneliness so when he ended it all, he would be nothing but someone they used to know that died tragically — because they were good people.
He’s not trying to kill himself because no one would care, he knows that’s not true and saying that would only — rightfully — anger Till even more. That's not why and knowing that and still trying makes him all the more disgusting.
At this point, he can no longer remember why he wants to die so much, why the thought of living another day is so painful or why planning and talking about future plans and careers is so unbearable that he needs to excuse himself to throw up in the bathroom each time. He knows the reasons exist, and that’s been plaguing him since he can remember. Vivid memories of himself as a child praying to a god he no longer believes to make going through the days easier or just please take him already, every sunday morning when he and Sua would be forced to attend the church, every night before going to sleep because his mother always told him that whatever he asked for, God would answer, as long as he prayed enough. And so he did. He begged, and sometimes he cried. He remembers some nights vividly as if they had happened yesterday.
Ivan doesn’t know what plagues him from such a young age. He doesn’t know what could possibly tire him out so much that the urge to die would only grow stronger until he could no longer take it. He’s tired, and he has been tired. For so long that it feels like something he was born with, a defect that can’t be repaired.
It breaks, and when you try to fix it, it works only for something worse to happen — a punishment for thinking you could fix something that should be long gone, that should've never been brought to being in the first place.
So Ivan doesn't know anything, he doesn't know how to tell Till that he’s tired of everything, that the thought of waking up tomorrow brings tears to his eyes and panic starts boiling under his skin. His life was so easy — his family was rich enough he could live comfortably and afford luxuries some of his peers couldn’t, he had friends since childhood that loved and cared for him, he was smart and athletic and people admired him at school — and Till struggled so much with so many things and never let any of that take away his flame and joy. How could Ivan, out of all people, complain about his life to someone like him?
Till who’s sad excuse of a father would physically abuse him and his sweet mother until fate decided to pity them and make the man crash his car.
Till who's mother had to get a part time job on her free days outside of her job as a nurse so she could afford to pay rent and food for the two of them — and would always deny any help Ivan offered.
Till who had to be so brave to come out of the closet as a transgender and bisexual man to his mom and his friends, who had to endure bullying at school and fought tooth and nail so people would respect his identity.
Till who fought with guys because they were harassing Mizi and Sua after they had come out and started dating.
Till who now had to work part time while studying for college entrance exams, so he could afford to buy his own guitar, and still refused any help from Ivan even if he knew that it wouldn’t make a difference in his life.
How could Ivan dare to complain about being tired, when he had everything he ever needed at arms reach, to someone like Till.
Ivan admired him so much, how strong he was. He had witnessed Till in his worst and best moments. He had tended to bruises given to Till by his ‘father’ and bullies, had held him close when the news of his death arrived, had brought him by force to his own house so Till could have a proper meal.
He had also been there when Till’s mother had gotten a promotion, the first time he performed on the school music festival with the guitar the music club president lent him, when Ivan gave him his first haircut, he was there to keep him company when he got his first T shot.
Ivan sees Till. From the good to the bad moments he always has something on him, a fire that isn’t constantly burning brightly but no matter how much others try to put it down, he never lets them, and when he has enough strength again, it burns hotter and brighter than before.
He could never compare to Till, and he’s ashamed of himself for being so weak, for being a coward and running because he can’t fight like the boy he loves so much.
Something must sow in his face, because Till’s face softens, and he lays back down on his chest, bringing his hand up to draw circles on Ivan’s arms.
“I’m sorry, you don’t have to say anything now.” He says, and brings his head up just slightly so he can rest it on the raven’s shoulder.
“I don’t want to pressure you into talking, and telling me what’s bothering you.. But I’m your best friend— Or at the very least you are my best friend and I care about you so much, I want to help you and like.. I don’t know.. Share the burden of whatever it is that you carry with you, because you are not alone.
I was really worried, you know? I’m not saying this to make you feel bad or anything but you need to know how much I care. I don’t know if I would be able to keep going without you, I—” Till closes his eyes and takes a deep breath before continuing.
“I-I love you a lot.” He stutters out, and Ivan’s brain blue-screens.
“You’re my best friend, of course I love you but— I feel like I don’t say it enough b-but.. I really do and you need to know that, okay? I love you so much and you are my best friend and the second person I need most after mom— I need you, so please let me help you when you feel ready.. Please..” His face is completely red by the end of his speech.
Ivan has to remind himself how to breathe.
“Okay, Till.” Is all he says, but he can feel his eyes getting watery and bites on his lip to hold them back.
“Don’t do that, idiot.. If you want to cry you can just do it.” Till scolds him, but there’s a softness in his voice that makes Ivan want to tear his ribcage open and offer his flesh for the silverhead to reside in.
He nods, and allows himself to let the tears fall freely. No holding back for the first time in months — or even years.
Till shifts to hold him when he can no longer hold back the sobs wracking him. He doesn't say anything, no comforting words or reassurances and he’s grateful for it. Ivan doesn't know how to be vulnerable, only Till’s grounding and comforting presence is enough.
He doesn't know how Till knows it, and maybe it doesn't matter.
Till holds him through it, arms wrapped tightly around him, pulling back slightly to check the expression Ivan is wearing every now and then, and when Ivan finally calms down, he calls the nurse so they can make sure everything is okay with his wounds.
They examine him thoroughly and ask so many questions it makes a headache start forming in the back of his head, but Till holds his hands the entire time, squeezing it lightly whenever he knows Ivan is uncomfortable — knowing each other since their eating dirt and bugs phase can make you develop the ability of micro-expression reading at some point.
They give him pain medication for his arm and headache, and when the nurses leave and they are left alone again, they don’t talk, but Till stays, and for now.. That’s enough.
‘ ᯽ ,
Ivan doesn't know when he fell asleep, but when he wakes up, it’s to quiet voices right beside him.
“(...) but we need to figure something out!” Someone who sounds oddly like his older sister whispers.
He feels something squeeze his hand, and he’s reminded of Till’s presence and warmth by his side.
“I know, I (...) but just (...) I feel like pressuring him will only make (...) I’m sure that if we (...) he’ll tell (...) ready..”
The voices are muffled, and he can’t hear what the rest of the conversation goes like — falling back asleep after a few moments — but he knows they are talking about him.
‘ ᯽ ,
When he comes to his senses again, the room is quiet save for the sound of a pencil scratching paper. He blinks slowly, letting his eyes adjust to the lighting and then looking around.
Till is still curled up on the chair by the side of his bed, being as close as physically possible to him without having to actually get on the bed. His sketchbook is propped on his legs, — in an awkward angle Ivan knows is his favorite to draw in — his tongue is poking out and his brows are knitted together in concentration.
On the other side of the room, sitting on a couch near the window, are two figures that weren’t there before. Sua is snoring softly — he wishes he could record it and use it as proof for the next time she tries to deny her snoring habits — laying her head on Mizi’s shoulder, who’s crocheting something that should probably look like a sock. It doesn’t.
He watches her for a few seconds longer before bringing his attention to the silver haired boy by his side, still concentrated on whatever he’s drawing. From his spot on the bed, Ivan can’t make out what it is, but if he moves to try to see it, the others might notice he’s awake, so in the end he just settles for watching Till’s expressions change as he curses under his breath at an error he made.
A few minutes pass where all he does is stare — as usual — until Till senses Ivan’s gaze on him — also as usual — and turns to look at the raven. “How long have you been staring?” He asks, trying to look annoyed but his flushed cheeks give him away.
“Not long.” He lies, not even bothering to sound convincing. As expected, Till doesn’t believe him and rolls his eyes. He looks back at Mizi, and judging by the earphones she has plugged up, she probably still hasn’t noticed that he’s awake.
Till quickly takes off an empty page of his sketchbook and kneads it into a ball, tossing it at the pink haired girl to get her attention. She looks up — from the thing Ivan is politely calling a sock — in confusion and he watches as her eyes turn glassy the moment she notices he’s awake.
She immediately gets up — accidentally waking up Sua with her sudden movements — and nearly jumps on him to give him a hug, crying loudly and squeezing him so tightly he had to tap on her shoulders to let her know he needs to breathe. “I’m so glad you are okay! We were so worried, you have no idea.” She says, bringing her hands to his face and holding it.
“I’m sorry.” Is all he says in response.
Mizi purses her lips and shakes her head softly. “It’s okay, it’s not your fault.” She gives him a weak smile, and Ivan wants to protest but before he can say anything his sister speaks.
“Don’t even start saying whatever you were thinking of.” She says, voice — unexpectedly — unusually soft. He looks back to the couch where Mizi left her and gulps at the equally soft and gentle expression Sua is looking at him with.
Something twists in his stomach, but it eases the moment he feels Till’s hand enveloping his on a tight hold.
“I don’t want you to pity me. I don’t need it.” He looks away from her, his gaze dropping to his lap, avoiding everyone’s eyes.
Ivan doesn’t deserve pity. He doesn’t deserve any kind of empathy, or the time of the day of the kind people he’s surrounded by. He doesn’t want to look into their eyes and see how hurt they are by his selfish actions. He doesn’t want to be lectured for trying to free not only them but also himself. His existence exhausts him, and he doesn’t want proof of how much he hurt them by being so useless he can’t even end his own life without making it everyone’s problem.
Sua clicks her tongue, and Ivan closes his eyes and mentally braces himself for the earful he’s about to get.
He doesn’t want pity for trying to take the easy way out, and even less for hardships that could hardly be called that in the first place. He doesn’t deserve any of that, not a single one of their kind words but he knows he can’t escape it.
“We don’t pity you, Ivan. We aren’t angry, we are just—” She inhales shakily. “We are worried. We are so— So fucking worried, because we love you.” The mattress dips with her weight when she sits down by Mizi’s side, resting her hand on his legs.
“We aren’t mad at you Vani.” She says in a gentle tone and Ivan feels his eyes stinging.
He looks at her, — really looks — at the person who never bothered to measure her words to yell at him when he broke her dolls as a child, who didn’t let him get away unscathed from all the problem he caused, who would complain when she had to patch up his bruises after a fight with Till, who would barge into his room to scream at both him and Till to stop talking so loudly whenever his best friend stayed the night.
But also at the person who showed up on his bedroom door at 3 A.M. during exams season or whenever the council had too much work — that made him have to leave his school work late at night — with hot chocolate and a snack exactly the way he liked, with the excuse that she was preparing something for herself as well even though he knew she could be asleep much earlier than that.
The person who caught him practicing his smile on the mirror countless times, and would sit with him and explain that he didn’t need to do that, that he’s not wrong and neither is his face, he doesn’t have to force himself to smile or learn a “proper” way to just because their parents’ friends said so.
The person who would make up excuses so Ivan could ditch their parents’ social gatherings whenever she realized he didn’t want to be there anymore. His older sister who never bothered lying to comfort him, who would never say anything untrue to make him feel better.
He doesn’t know when he starts crying, but soon Mizi’s arms are wrapping him in a hug with Sua and Till not far behind.
“Y-You should—” A hiccup. “You s-should be m-mad!” He stutters through tears.
“We would never be mad at you for this.” He hears Till say next to his ear and it makes him choke out on a sob.
“B-But—”
“We’re not having any of that.” Mizi says, playing with the hair on his nape. “We love you so much Ivan.”
“That’s right. We don’t know what’s going on, we don’t know what goes through your mind, but we love you, we’ve been so worried and not once did any of us feel any anger towards you.” His sister explains, putting some distance between them again just so she could look into his eyes. “We were angry at ourselves, for not noticing you were struggling, but never at you. Everyone else got worried too, even Hyuna and Luka. We all care so much about you and all we want is for you to be okay.”
Ivan stares at her for a few seconds, and tries digging in his memories for another time Sua looked at him like that, another time she sounded so honest and genuine.
“We aren’t mad or disappointed at all.” She says, and somehow that’s the nail in the coffin for him.
Ivan can’t stop the tears and sobs from coming out with full force. He cries so hard his body shakes with the force of it, he’s trembling and it would be so much worse if not for the other three bodies anchoring him. He thinks he hears Till and Mizi repeat the same thing Sua said a few times, but he’s not sure if it’s his mind playing tricks on him at this point.
He feels so pathetic, crying like a baby over the simplest words of comfort.
Was that what he was missing all this time? Was he that starved for love and affection? Did he just want proof that he’s not unlovable? Did he want proof that his brain was only just convincing him that the people around him loved him? Was all he needed the people he loved voicing their love for him? It feels so dumb and pathetic but these words ease something deep inside him that he can’t quite place.
Maybe that only makes him all the more selfish, but he wants this. It might make him more selfish and disgusting, but he had always known that he was born wrong, — there’s always been something parasitic and dirty about himself — it’s a truth he has been living with for as long as he can remember. He wants to drown in the warmth and the comfort they are giving him. He wants to be on the receiving end of their love and affection until their intensity makes him disintegrate.
It’s selfish, and ugly. He knows he doesn’t deserve half of the love they are giving him but it’s only natural for someone as bad as him to yearn for love and chase after it.
So Ivan cries, he lets Till wipe his tears, lets Mizi caress his head softly, and lets Sua sing a tune she used to sing to calm him down when he was plagued by nightmares as a child. He allows himself to not feel guilty about it for once, surely one day he’ll pay for the sin of allowing himself to be loved, but today he wants to cherish it, he wants to pretend he isn’t broken and inherently wrong, that he can love and be loved the way normal people are.
It feels good. He doesn’t feel like dying for once. He feels home for what’s probably the first time in his life.
Is it so bad he wants to stay in this moment forever?
‘ ᯽ ,
At some point during his stay at the hospital, Io and Sua came to talk to him about his parents. Apparently, Io managed to pull some strings so they wouldn’t have to call his parents and tell them about what happened — they feared that their reactions would only cause Ivan more stress — and they wouldn’t notice his absence since they were away on a business trip, but they warned him that it’s unlikely they’ll never find out, so he should be ready for when it happens. Io assured him that it was no problem for her being the one responsible for Ivan during his recovery and that she wouldn’t get in trouble, but he still couldn’t help but feel bad. He knows how much she depends on her job as a nurse, and he would hate it if she ever got in trouble because of him, he would never be able to forgive himself for being the one putting her and Till in a tough spot again.
Soon after that, he got discharged from the hospital, and Till had approached him when no one else was paying attention to ask if he could stay over at Ivan’s because he wanted to help with his recovery and make sure that he wasn’t disobeying the doctors’ orders, — surprised feels like an understatement to what Ivan felt at that moment — he agreed — because he thought Till was about to cry if he took any longer to — and Till’s mom took them home, reminding him of all the things he should and shouldn’t do to not upset his wounds.
Now, it’s been four days since they got home and things have been.. weird. He obviously expected things to be weird or even uncomfortable after what happened, but it’s not in the way he expected at all. Till was acting strange, but not in an avoidant way like he expected he would, it was the opposite.
It wasn’t anything too concerning or dramatic, small things that anyone else wouldn’t notice, — proven right by the unimpressed glare he received from Sua after asking her about it — like how he would get into bed with him without arguing or complaining they were too old for that, not waiting for Ivan to ‘fall asleep’ so he could cuddle up to him, staring at him more than usual, — that is definitely weird, Till never watched him like that before — he would knock on the bathroom door if Ivan took longer than 10 minutes inside it, doesn’t matter if he was taking a shower or not, he would get in if the raven didn’t reply quickly enough. Locking doors was explicitly prohibited ever since Ivan had locked his room’s door in order to change clothes and the silverhead had burst into tears.
“I’m sure he’s acting weird.” He tells Sua one morning when they are both in the kitchen and Till is still asleep.
Sua sighs, sitting down on the table and putting down his mug on the table for him to drink his stupidly sweet coffee. “Most of the things you are listing are things he used to do before but more.. Discreetly? He’s just being shameless about it now, but we almost lost you so..” She says, the last part coming out as a mumble due to her hesitation.
“He was also the one who found you, I have no idea what he saw when he entered your room, but it’s to be expected that he would get kind of.. Paranoid? He’s probably scared of blinking and finding you like that again. She adds, smiling softly at him, and he casts down his gaze to his mug instead of holding eye contact, staring for a few moments before bringing it to his lips.
“Don’t beat yourself up, okay?” She brings her chair closer to him, and rests her hand on his shoulders. “You haven’t told us what’s going on, or what happened that made you feel like.. like you needed to do that, and we don’t want to pressure you but we are trying to help you.. He likes you more than you think he does, this is just his way of worrying and showing how much he cares.”
Ivan chuckles. “He doesn’t like me, he’s just too kind for his own good.”.
“You’re both so stupid.” His sister groans and rolls her eyes, sitting back on her chair. The words might sound harsh, but they are filled with fondness and understanding.
They stay quiet for a while, just sipping on their coffee until his sister breaks the silence again.
“I found them, you know.” She doesn’t say what she found, but from her tone alone Ivan knows what they are — the letters he wrote — and he feels a sense of dread settle down.
“Did you— Did you read them..?” Ivan asks, voice barely above a whisper.
Sua shakes her head. “I only read the one you wrote for me. I just.. I didn’t know when the best time to bring it up would be.”
He swallows.
Ivan had opened his heart and revealed his inner turmoils in each one of them. He thought that his friends and family deserved to know — they deserved honesty from him at least once — that whatever motivated him to do that wasn’t their fault. He doubted that it would suddenly make them not feel guilty, they are all good people, kindness pouring out of all crevices of their bodies, of course they would feel bad or even blame themselves because they couldn’t fix him.
It’s not their fault he’s broken. It’s just something he was born with, that made him unable to go about life like other people do, unable to love normally, to enjoy things like normal people would.
Sometimes, he wonders if he’s nothing but a doll that managed to come to life. He only does what he’s told, he doesn’t have any wishes of his own besides making sure that he fulfills the role others around him assign to him. The perfect son, the typical younger brother, the teasing best friend, the polite and funny brother-in-law, girls’ dream man, the smart and charming student council president, the desired popular jock.
Those are all roles he has been acting for as long as he can remember, to the point that he isn’t sure if he was someone else before he had to make himself fit in those boxes. He doesn’t know if aside from those roles, he’s nothing but an empty shell. Those versions of him are all he has ever known, but now he feels like every time he has to act his insides are being torn apart.
Everyday, everything is so tiring, and he doesn’t know how to be anything else. He can’t revert to what he was ‘before’, because he was nothing at all. He isn’t anything if not the roles assigned to him, if he can no longer play into them well enough to satisfy others then he might as well die.
It’s not anyone’s fault that Ivan is so broken and wrong he can’t be his own person. Being the way he is, isn’t natural, it’s no wonder his body and mind and everything else in the world rejects his existence. It wasn’t meant to be, his existence is merely a mistake that shouldn’t have been brought to being. He’s always felt this way, he’s always been tired, as if being born alone was enough to tire him out for the rest of his life, and he only managed to survive this far because the universe is punishing him for daring to take his first breath. The longer he stays alive, the more unbearable the pain of being alive is.
Soon, he will be eighteen years old. An adult, who’s supposed to make his own decisions, go to college, graduate, work, pay bills, find a wife and have children and inherit the family’s business when the time comes, like his parents want him to, — because again, he doesn’t have any wishes of his own — and yet he can’t imagine being able to do any of that.
He doesn’t have any strength to do any of that anymore, and he said so in his letters.
Ivan didn’t want anyone else to know what went through his mind before he was dead, so Sua knowing terrifies him, because what would she say? What would he even do?
Sua looks at him, and takes a deep breath before speaking. “You’re right.” She says, and that makes Ivan’s head snap up to look at her.
Right about what? About being unlovable? Broken and irreparable? He knows it’s true and yet.. Something deep inside of him breaks, and the calm and neutral expression he was trying to go for crumbles. He knows he’s right, but hearing the confirmation from someone so close and dear to him hurts more than all the times he told himself the same thing.
“Ugh— I mean you’re right about us being similar.” Sua corrects with a groan, massaging the space between her eyebrows. “Not about all that self-deprecating shit.. We are similar.” His eyes widen as he remembers what he had written specifically for his sister.
Ivan’s oldest memory has Sua in it, like most of his memories from before his 5th birthday — not that he remembered many more of them at this point — before Till and Mizi came into their lives.
Sua was 2 years older than him, and she had started elementary school the year before, and from what he remembered, she was struggling to make friends and like any other child she wasn’t happy about being either bullied or alone all of the time.
Their parents weren’t happy with the constant calls from school they were receiving, — even if it wasn’t Sua’s fault that she was getting bullied — telling her to learn how to make friends, that if her classmates didn’t like her then she should change her ways, that it was her fault Ivan was becoming just like her.
Ivan was too young to understand their fights most of the time, but his 4 year old self was already familiar with the yelling regarding how unfeeling and wrong he looked, how awkward he acted. He didn’t laugh or cry ever, their babysitter would take them to the park in the neighborhood thinking that maybe all they needed was to socialize, but soon they realized it was fruitless. Ivan would sit in one of the swings and stay there, quietly swinging while he observed the other children running around, or sometimes he would play with bugs and scare off anyone that tried to approach him, — he wasn’t even trying to scare them off, they were just scared of how detached and dead his expression looked — while Sua would accompany him or observe the flowers that adorned the park.
He had always thought his sister was kind and sweet. She kept him company even if he was boring and they had nothing to do, she’d bring him to her room when their parents were fighting and screaming too loud, she’d water the plants at the park when there were a few days with no rain and they looked thirsty. He didn’t understand why people didn’t want to be friends with someone like her, he didn’t understand why they bullied her, just like they did to him.
His oldest memory is going into Sua’s room so she could read him a book — it became routine the moment she started to learn how to read — only to find her hiding inside her closet, hugging a pink bunny plushie he had chosen as a gift for her last birthday with tears streaming down her face. He stood there for a few minutes, not knowing what to do. He never knew how to be gentle, Sua was the one who was born with that ability. He didn’t know what to do, so he walked inside the closet — his sister didn’t look up to him, face buried in the bunny’s faux fur — and sat by her side, he didn’t say anything and didn’t dare to try and embrace her because he knew Sua didn’t like hugs. He just leaned his head on her shoulder and hummed like she’d for him when he had nightmares.
At some point, the tears stopped and her breath evened out. They stayed on the floor of the closet way past their bedtime, no one came looking for them, and only when Sua noticed Ivan’s eyes threatening to close did she get up, offering her hand to help him stand. She didn’t thank him verbally — Ivan didn’t expect it either way, it’s not like he actually tried to do anything to help — but she still tucked him in bed, and read a book for him until he fell asleep.
From that day onwards Ivan believed that just like himself, Sua had something that made her unlovable.
He had always known that there was something wrong with him even from such a young age, he didn’t need to have his parents tell him that, he got to that conclusion by himself the many times people approached him with a smile and left with a slight frown. He didn't have to do anything for people to dislike him, they just did, and when he found out that Sua also went through that he started feeling less lonely.
They enjoyed each other's company in their own way, with no outward signs of affection, not because they disliked each other, they just didn’t have it in them.
Until one day, Mizi and Till appeared in their lives, and Ivan’s world tilted on it’s axis.
It had happened so suddenly, they had been taken to the park like all the days before, except this time a pink haired girl approached the both of them, squatting down to observe Ivan playing with the bugs.
She asked him about them, and listened intently while he talked about their names, reproductive systems and other things no normal child should care about. She didn't interrupt him, and she even looked genuinely interested and it made something inside of him settle.
Sua approached them after a while, the girl — whose name he later found out was Mizi — was talking about stars excitedly, talking about her newfound interests in constellations.
“Hello..?” His sister greeted, and Mizi’s eyes lit up as she got up.
“Woah! A living doll!” She said, looking back at Ivan while pointing at Sua frantically to make sure he was seeing it too.
For the first time in his life that day, he saw Sua make an expression that wasn’t her sad, angry or neutral one. She had a weird expression that he didn't know how to describe, and her face was bright red as she looked at Mizi.
After that, they clicked together immediately like a missing puzzle piece, they were always together. Mizi was in a different class than Sua at school, one year behind, but his sister told him that the girl spent all breaks by her side, — bringing along another friend that’d soon become a part of their group — scaring off her bullies, they’d play at the park together nearly everyday, and even go to each other's houses.
Ivan was always brought along, Mizi was fond of him — and he felt the same — but it was obvious to anyone around them that she really loved Sua.
She would braid Sua’s hair, they’d share headphones, and Ivan caught them giggling together countless times.
Seeing his sister — who he thought was unlovable just like him — being treated gently, like she was something precious, seeing someone so fond of her, who cared so much about her happiness and her opinion made a sprout of hope grow inside of his heart.
If Sua could be loved, it must mean that he can be loved too, that someone out there would treat him with the same care Mizi treated Sua.
And then, Till happened.
There was something about Till that left Ivan captivated from the moment he looked at him, it made him feel uneasy, he didn’t know what he was feeling, he didn’t understand and for the first time he understood why his parents wanted him to be normal so bad.
That was the first time Ivan wished he was normal.
“I-I made this f-for you..” Till said, his stretched out hand was holding a flower crown, and he was looking anywhere but at Ivan’s face, but the raven could see that the tip of his ears were reddish. “D-Do you want to be friends?”
Ivan froze.
He didn't know what to do, what he should do. The sight made Ivan’s heart beat faster and his stomach twist. He was scared of the feelings he didn't understand, of feelings so unfamiliar to him.
So he took the flower crown from Till’s hand and stepped on it.
At that moment, he realized that he and Sua weren't similar in any way.
Since that day, all of his hopes were crushed. The similarities he saw between him and Sua didn’t exist, he had simply misinterpreted her actions and feelings like he often did.
Sua was warm, she was born with the kind of warmth that made her able to embrace someone and make all of their worries and sorrows vanish. She worried and cared so much, even if it was hidden behind furrowed brows and a tired face. She could also smile genuinely, she didn’t need to spend years practicing the right way to smile without scaring people off, it came to her naturally.
Someone like her was ought to be loved one day, it was easy to love Sua.
But Ivan? He was the complete opposite of her. He didn’t have any of that warmth, all he had was a fabricated persona that felt distant, unapproachable and just as cold as his body. He couldn't show care and worry for anyone without it coming across as mockery. His words and actions were selfish, cold and mean, even when he had no intention of harming anyone.
While Sua’s gentleness and softness came naturally to her, mockery and coldness came just as naturally to him.
The personality he made up was good enough to fool people that were kept at a safe distance, as soon as they got closer to him they realized it was all fake, — you can’t fake genuine warmth — and immediately left.
He wasn't meant to be loved. He didn't know how to love, so it’s only natural that love never found him in any way.
The childish belief he had that he and Sua were similar and therefore he could he loved, was long gone, lost in the midst of ruined flower crowns, fist fights and evenings following a silver haired boy around the park until he got tired of Ivan’s presence.
“That’s not what I said.” Ivan mumbled, looking away from his sister, he could hear her slow exhale and once more he wished that his attempt had worked.
“Well I think that we are similar, in a way.” Sua said, she was looking down at her own cup that surely must’ve gone cold at this point. “I also used to think I was.. Broken and unlovable, because that’s what happens when you’re told you’re a defective asset. I thought you felt similarly.. I mean, we did grow up together and we had the same parents so it made sense that the things that made me think that way would also have a similar effect on you.”
Yeah, he thinks, the difference is that you actually can’t be loved and I can’t.
“God, I can tell what you’re thinking when you pout like that, you know?” She says, letting out an airy chuckle, and Ivan looks back at her with an unimpressed expression. “Oh yeah, but you can be loved, I can’t.” She mocks.
Crap. Ivan groans, dragging his hands down his face. “Do we really need to talk about this?”
She sighs. “Don’t be like that.. I know that no matter what I say you won’t believe me because you’re a stupid self-hating asshole, but I’m just saying that I also thought like that, I know how you feel but it isn’t true, you’re not broken, you’re not unlovable, and most important you are capable of loving people.”
“I’m not like you, Sua.”
He’s not nice, he’s not gentle, he’s not soft and caring. He doesn’t know how to love. He was born lacking any kind of warmth, he knows that. He’s not like Sua.
“I’m not saying you’re like me, you are just— fucking blinded by how much you hate yourself because of all the things our parents and the people around you were saying back then! You’re different from me, and different from other people and that’s exactly why I know you’re wrong about yourself.” She argues, and Ivan really wants to look away from her, — the amount of honesty he can see through her eyes is overwhelming him and he’s scared to allow himself to believe what she’s saying — but as if she’s reading his mind, she grabs his shin before he can actually do it.
“You are different, Ivan. You express your emotions through other means, you behave differently from other people because that’s just how you are, you feel things differently. You keep comparing yourself to other people, looking to validate yourself through their actions but it won't work, and that’s okay. You hear me?” She waits for him to nod before continuing.
“Just because you are different from others doesn’t mean you’re broken, it doesn’t mean you’re incapable of feeling the same emotions they do, it’s just different to you. You say you’re not loved, but I love you. Till, Mizi and Hyuna and for fuck’s sake even Luka loves your sorry ass!”
Sua is holding his face with both hands now, looking straight into his eyes in hopes that somehow that’ll make the words get through his thick skull. Ivan’s fang is digging into his lower lip in an effort to keep the tears he can feel forming at his waterline from falling.
She’s looking at him with a serious expression, but the moment his lips wobble, she softens and tears start forming in her own eyes.
He suddenly feels like he’s four again, and she’s tending to the bruises his father left on him after another stupid business gathering he ‘couldn’t behave properly’ at.
“You are capable of loving, Ivan. You have an odd way to show your affection sometimes, but we all see it. You can be gentle and caring in your own way.” She says, gently. “And we love you so much, not because of whoever you pretend to be most of the time, but because you are you.”
A tear escapes his eyes, and rolls down his cheeks. His throat is dry when he speaks. “But how can you love me, when I’m no one outside of those.. Masks?” He asks.
Sua releases his head, reaching for his mug and placing it on the table before finally bringing Ivan in for a hug. “To me, you are still the same boy who would try to eat bugs in the playground. Even if you don’t know who you are anymore, the real you is still there, you just have to find him.”
They hug for what feels like an eternity, breakfast long forgotten on the table as Ivan silently lets the tears he has been holding back fall.
“I’m sorry.. for not noticing you were struggling before.” She says after a while. “When Mizi came into my life it just.. it helped me so much with that and I just thought that you went through something similar with Till. I didn’t imagine you still carried all of this by yourself, I’m sorry.”
Ivan shakes his head. “It’s not your fault, and Till.. He made me realize how I lack the means to make someone like him happy.” He gives her a sad smile, and she scowls.
“You are so disgustingly in love with him it sickens me.”
Ivan stops at that, wide eyed. “What?”
“Well—” Sua starts, but is cut off by a voice coming from upstairs.
“Ivan?” Till calls, and the raven immediately gets up before the other can worry too much about his absence.
Sua grabs his hand before he actually leaves, eyes softening once more. “You can talk to me whenever you want, okay?”
He nods, and runs upstairs when Till calls his name one more time.
He’s sure that he heard Sua muttering something along the lines of ‘And he still has the audacity to be confused’ but he decides to ignore it. For now, at least.
As soon as he arrives upstairs he’s met with the sight of a teary eyed Till, who runs his way as soon as he spots Ivan. “Where were you? I told you not to leave bed when I’m asleep.. I got scared.. And it’s so early too, why are you even awake?” Till asks him, with a pout that threatens to send Ivan into cardiac arrest.
“I’m sorry I didn't mean to scare you, I was just talking to Sua.” He explains, wiping the tears in the other's eyes with his thumb and bringing to his lips.
Till rolls his eyes. “Gross. Let’s go to bed, it’s too early.”
He drags Ivan to his room, making himself comfortable in his bed and then glaring at Ivan so he’ll lay down too. He does as he’s told and chuckles when Till nuzzles closer to him. “You’re so needy.”
Love, huh?
He wraps an arm around Till and brings him even closer, burying his face in his gray hair that smells like his own, — after days of sharing the same shampoo and everything else — making the smaller let out a confused noise. Not rejection, just confusion.
“Just let me hold you like this for a bit, okay?” He feels Till nod his head, and then thin arms wrapping around Ivan’s larger body. It makes his heart ache.
Love… Maybe this is what I’ve been feeling about him all along, He thinks before letting his eyes close and falling asleep.
‘ ᯽ ,
Three weeks have passed since Ivan’s failed attempt. Things have been slowly going back to ‘normal’, his friends — except for Till — went back to acting like they normally did around him, no longer stepping on eggs or avoiding making fun of him for dumb things in fear of triggering him or whatever they think could possibly happen. They still worry about him, often checking on him and forcing him to tag along on their hangouts at the music club since he wasn’t cleared to go back to football practice yet.
He was glad that they finally went back to normal. He was starting to feel like his presence ruined the mood of the whole group with how much they seemed to overthink literally every word and joke they made.
Io stopped dropping by their home with warm food, — yes, she did it everyday since he got back home from the hospital, even if Ivan and Sua insisted that they could cook on their own — only because Ivan’s parents had come back from their business trip, but she’d still send Till over with sweet treats for all of them. She clearly had Ivan in mind while making them, but he chose to ignore that.
Till had to go back to his house yesterday. He clearly didn’t want to go and leave Ivan alone, and honestly? Ivan didn’t mind his presence.
As expected, surviving a suicide attempt always leaves him feeling useless and unhappy with himself, not that he doesn’t feel like that other times, it just gets so much worse. But Till’s presence in the past weeks had been.. Comforting. Don’t get him wrong, Till’s mere existence was already a comfort on it’s own, but having him so close everyday, resting his head on Ivan’s chest to listen to his heartbeat, fussing over him and lecturing him when he’s not being careful enough with his wounds is the closest he has ever felt to Heaven.
Till’s presence is like a drug to Ivan. He’s addicted. He’s been addicted.
He’s overdosing with all the attention Till has been giving him after years of settling for scraps, of pushing the other just enough so he wouldn’t take his eyes off him for too long, of watching from afar and wishing he was worthy of being the recipient of Till’s love and warmth.
Now that he’s felt it so close, it’s hard to let go. He would spend every single day until the end of time losing himself in the haziness he felt every time he woke up with the boy in his arms.
Till only leaves because according to him, he’s sure that if he sleeps over one more day Ivan’s parents will manage to kill him with the power of their minds, — Ivan actually laughed when he said that — though he had a point. Ivan could see that his parents were starting to get suspicious about it, and he didn’t want to cause any trouble.
His friend still called him every time of the day he had available when they weren’t together, it made Ivan feel giddy before he had to beat himself up for it since Till was only doing this because he was worried sick, — and it was his fault — but other than that things were normal. Or at least they were supposed to be.
Ivan didn’t feel normal.
He felt like any second now something would happen and cause him to spiral and lead him to his demise. He felt like a walking corpse, like maybe he really did die and this is hell, his punishment.
It’s not unusual for him to feel like this, but other times it would just.. Pass. He knows that won’t happen this time, he knows that unlike other times he can’t just ignore what he did to himself, he can’t flush his own vomit down the toilet before school and go on about his day like it never happened, like he didn’t overdose the day before.
He can no longer pretend that he’d rather die than do literally anything else, because it’s no longer a secret of his own.
All of his closest friends — and the only ones that matter — know that he had tried to kill himself, they know about his depression and his suicidal ideation. His life has changed forever, his friendships have changed forever, and there’s nothing he can do about it, there’s no going back now that they know.
He can’t bottle up his feelings and try to act normal when all he wants is for everything to be over, because the people around him — who care for him so much — know what goes through his mind, they know what he has been doing to himself for years. They are trying to be supportive and help him as much as they can, and at the same time that Ivan appreciates the sentiment he wishes he could go back and do what he was supposed to do properly.
He wishes nothing changed. He wishes he was really dead, and not only felt like it.
‘ ᯽ ,
Today is Friday, and Ivan just left the shower after arriving home. If it was before his attempt, he would probably be trying to make up excuses to ditch the team’s post Friday practice outings so he could go and meet Till and do literally anything.
He still can’t attend practices, so Till invited him to watch the music club’s practice again. They’ve been preparing a performance with original songs for months now, — Ivan enjoys watching them practice and hearing everyone’s pained groans when they make mistakes or can’t think of good lyrics for one of their compositions — it’s just that today he feels like staring at his bedroom’s ceilings hoping the ground will swallow him whole is a much more interesting after school activity for him.
The silverhead tried to insist for him to stay, but he must’ve noticed Ivan’s smile being too forced and decided to let it go. He doesn’t have to worry that much either way, — at least that’s what Ivan thinks — Sua has been taking online classes for a few months so he wouldn’t be alone at home. Till probably call him anytime now to check on him anyways.
He flops down on the bed, eyes locking into the stars on his ceiling, ready to spend the next 5 hours trying to figure out what it is that makes him so broken, but then someone knocks at his door.
Weird, he thinks. He knows Sua is home, but she already checked on him when he arrived from school, that means that she probably wouldn’t check on him again for a while since she knows that he needs some alone time every now and then, — even if she doesn’t let him indulge himself too much — but he gets up to open the door regardless.
“What do you want—”
Ivan freezes. Fuck.
His father is standing in front of him with a serious expression, — one he knows from experience means nothing good — and his mother is right beside him. He gulps, immediately making space for them to get inside.
“I’m sorry father, I thought you were Sua, I didn’t mean to be impolite.” Ivan says, his voice is even and perfectly normal, he has his usual practiced smile plastered on his face — the one he knows his father approves of — and he puts his hands behind his back. He’s not shaking, he looks perfectly normal except for the fact that if there was anyone behind him they’d notice the way his nails are digging into his palms.
His parents were not supposed to be home at this hour, and yet here they are, in his room, with serious expressions and holding a folder. His stomach twists at the sight of it, but he doesn’t let it show that he noticed it. “Is there anything I can help with?”
His mom lets out an exasperated laugh, and crosses her arms. His father stays silent, he walks towards Ivan’s desk and sets the folder on top of it. “Care to explain the meaning of this?” He asks.
The sound of his voice sends tremors through Ivan’s body, and he walks closer to take a look at it. As he scanned the documents inside it, he felt his heart sink to his stomach.
They are hospital bills.
He’s frozen in place. He can’t bring himself to speak as he looks at the evidence of what he did. He feels dizzy, he can feel his father’s gaze burning into him, ready to tear him apart the moment he speaks.
Ivan knew that they would find out sooner or later, Io and Sua warned him about this — that he should prepare himself for their reactions — and he thought he was ready to face them. He was foolish to believe that he could ever prepare himself to act in a situation that left him like this.
He couldn’t do anything but stare at the papers in his hand, scanning every word, all the procedures they did on him, all the evidence of what he did staring back at him, mocking him. He could barely breathe, he couldn’t look up and face his father, the disappointment or — even worse — the indifference.
“Ivan Lee, explain this. Now.” His mother demanded, voice shaking with rage.
He looks up slowly, both of his parents are staring down at him and he’s sure that he’s never felt more scared. Not the first time he tried to kill himself, not when he couldn’t go 15 minutes without throwing up after an overdose, not when he felt his consciousness fading when he was bleeding out on his bedroom’s floor, not when he woke up and realized that his life would change forever. This is the first time he has ever felt this scared. Ivan is terrified.
He can’t read the expression on his father’s face when the man takes the folders from his hands. “There’s no need for explanations, your reaction says enough.” He declares coldly, sitting in the chair beside his desk.
His mother laughs. “Are you seriously letting him get away with this.. This bullshit?!” She screams, and Ivan flinches, — he hasn’t flinched since he was eight years old — he needs to get his act together before the situation gets worse.
“Of course not, he’ll face the consequences accordingly.” He smiles, and all of Ivan’s survival instincts are telling him to run as fast as he can’t, but he wouldn’t be able to run even if he wanted to, his feet are glued to the floor. “We’ll send him away to study abroad, I know we were planning for that to be done later but maybe we gave him too much freedom.”
Ivan’s mother hums, but all Ivan can feel is absolute dread. They want to send him away. From his friends, from his family.
From Till.
“Father—”
“Silence!” His father cuts him off, Ivan can feel his anger in his voice.
“We’ve done everything we could for you, we’ve raised you well, taught you manners, we gave you a good education, we fixed your bad habits and your lack of emotion. We even let you keep those.. friends you and your sister have!” Unsha spits out, raising his voice and Ivan shrinks in on himself like it’s muscle memory.
“We gave you everything you could’ve possibly wanted, and you still tried to kill yourself? I didn't raise you to be weak, Ivan.”
Ivan can’t hold his own body weight anymore, and falls back on the bed.
“N-No.. I—” He tries to argue, but his father slams his fist on his desk.
“I’ve had enough! I’ve spent so much money on you and you dare do something like that? No explanation can erase our disappointment, you’ve failed at the only thing you were born to do. Clearly we gave you too much freedom.”
Ivan wants to fight back, he really does, but the moment he looks into his father’s eyes he feels like he’s back to being the child that couldn’t figure out how to properly mold his face in a way that pleased others, or what people wanted to hear the most from him. He feels like the child that wanted nothing but to please his parents.
“What’s going on?” Sua is standing on the doorway with a concerned look, she must have heard the commotion from her room.
“Sua, did you know about this?” His father asks, handing her the hospital bills.
Ivan can see the exact moment she realizes what’s going on, and turns to look at him, despair written all over her face.
He can’t speak, he can’t even move but he needs her to deny it. He can’t cause even more trouble for the people around him, taking the fall alone is the least he can do and yet he can’t even actually try to warn her.
Luckily, she seemed to understand what the desperate look on his face meant — maybe he should give her more credit than he does — and gave the bills back to their father.
“I had no idea about this, I only noticed he spent a few days away.” She replied, voice neutral in a way he knows she practiced for hours on end just like himself in order to not show emotion in front of their parents, just like himself.
Sua excuses herself and rushes back to her own room, leaving Ivan alone with his parents once more.
His mother clicks her tongue in annoyance. “I can’t believe you would do this, you’re such a disappointment.” She says. “I knew hanging out with that.. ‘Boy’ wouldn’t be good for you, I tried to warn you, but you never listen, do you?”
Ivan looks down and stares at his own feet. He’s such a coward he can’t even bring himself to defend the person he claims to ‘love’.
“We won’t have to worry about it for long darling, I’m already arranging everything so he can leave next week.” His father announces, taking his phone from his pocket and bringing it to his ears. “Hopefully, he’ll make better friends in Europe.”
That makes Ivan snap. He doesn't want to go, he doesn't want to leave everything and everyone he loves behind.. Not like this. He can’t bear the thought of having to live away from them.
“I don’t want to go!” Ivan stands up abruptly and blurts out without thinking.
His mother turns to look at him indignantly, while his father gives him a stern look. “After the stunt you pulled, you really think you have a choice?” He asks.
Ivan swallows, his head is spinning, he’s panicking and he doesn't know what to do. He doesn't know what he could say or do to turn the situation around, this is the first time he felt like he had no control over his life.
He has been doing everything his parents wanted his entire life. Adapting and acting the way he knew would please them, at some point it became his default — he no longer did it consciously — but he could allow himself to indulge. His parents never went out of their way to actually prohibit him from doing anything as long as no one else knew what he was doing, as long as it didn’t affect his or their image.
But now, he isn’t given a choice.
He can distantly hear his phone ringing from where he left it in his bed, but he’s too lost in his own mind to care.
He’s realizing that his whole life, he never had any control over his life or his actions. The things he ‘allowed himself’ to enjoy were only possible because his parents allowed it. He had always thought that there were things that were only up to him, but now he can see how naive he was.
It was never up to him. It was never about him.
“We’re doing this for you, Ivan. It’s for your own good.” His mother says, — smiling in a gentle voice he knows it’s fake — while his father is speaking on the phone.
It’s the same expression and tone she used while stretching his lips to show him how to smile properly, or when he would said something wrong in front of their business partners and she had to do damage control, telling him to be a good boy and behave as if she wouldn’t slap him the moment they were alone again.
“I-I don’t want to go.. Please..” He begs weakly, fighting with his own body to stand his ground. Even when all he wanted was to give in and let them do as they pleased.
She rolled her eyes and scoffed. “Such an ungrateful child.”
“All is settled.” Unsha announces. “You can start packing your things, your mother and I are leaving to deal with the school’s paperwork.” He pockets his phone again and heads to the door.
No.. No, no, no, no, no.
He grabs his father's arms, tears forming in his eyes as he begs. “Please don’t send me away, I’m sorry! I’ll be better! It was a mistake, I won’t do it again!”
His voice is hoarse, and he’s ready to beg more and more until he feels his head spinning once more, and a sharp pain in his cheek.
His father slapped him.
Unsha pushes him away, and Ivan falls back, he tries to grab into one of the shelves but ends up falling to the floor.
He touches the side of his face, stinging with the force of the slap and wet with tears he’s not sure when they started falling. He looks up to see his parents standing in the doorway, looking at him with disgust.
“You are pathetic. Don’t you dare touch me again, you’re not my Son.”
Ivan stares, his cheek stinging where his father slapped him.
This is not the first time he had been slapped by any of his parents, — he isn't unfamiliar with it — but it’s been years since the last time.
He had managed to become exactly what they wanted him to be, not even once hearing words of praise, because it was nothing more than his duty as their son. He had done everything for them, shaped himself exactly the way they wanted to the point he couldn't go back to the real him, and when he could no longer take it, this is how they treat him.
He thought he could do damage control once they found out, but he was wrong.
Ivan wanted to be furious. He wanted to be so angry and lash out at them like Till would’ve done, he has been doing everything in his power to please them and be what they wanted, and he just couldn't take it anymore, he wants to be mad to the point of tearing the whole house down.
But he can’t. He feels nothing, he’s completely numb.
His gaze falls back to the floor — no longer having the energy to look into his parent’s faces — and he can see but he can't even make sense of what he’s looking at. Distantly, he can hear his mother saying something to his father, and then their retreating footsteps, but he doesn't think twice about it. He doesn't think.
He’s so out of it he doesn't even notice the raised voices coming from downstairs.
He doesn't notice Sua coming to check up on him, asking if he’s okay.
He doesn't notice when the voices stop and a door closes with a bang.
When he finally snaps out of it, he doesn't know how much time has passed or what happened, but somehow Till is crouched in front of him, with red rimmed eyes and a concerned expression.
“-Van? Ivan, can you hear me?” Till asks, shaking him by shoulders lightly.
The raven blinks, looking around slowly to remind himself of where he was and what had happened with his parents. They are nowhere to be found now, but Io and Sua are inside of his room as well, packing clothes into a small backpack.
He looks back at Till.
“When did you get here?” His voice is weak, and it seems that the sound of it was all Till needed to let the tears gathering in his waterline fall.
“A while ago, you’re coming home with us.” The boy says, cupping his cheeks and giving him a small, sad smile.
Ivan loses himself in Till’s face before his brain fully processes what he had just said.
“No.. I have to pack my bags, they are sending me away.” He says, matter-of-factually.
Something flashes in Till’s eyes, but before he can figure out what it is, the other is getting up and extending a hand for him to follow.
He stares at his hands for a moment, — not knowing what to do — until Io rests her hand on his head and he looks up to find her smiling at him.
“It’s okay dear, I’ll explain everything when we get home, okay?” She says in a soft voice, and the contrast to how his parents talked to him just now almost startles him.
Io being gentle and caring with him is nothing new, she treats him like her son more often than not — for as long as he can remember — so he’s not sure why his eyes are watering now.
He’s come to accept that no matter how undeserving and incapable of love he is, he still yearns for it desperately. Even so, the smallest bit of genuine care can leave him breathless.
Would he have turned out like this if his mother had cradled him in his arms like Io does with Till to this day? Would he be less broken if his father had comforted him when he came back home with less than an A+? Would he be more capable of loving and being gentle if his parents loved him more?
“Let’s go.” Till calls, his hand still stretched out for Ivan to take.
And after a few seconds of pondering, he grabs it.
‘ ᯽ ,
The drive to Till’s house is quiet. He’s carrying a medium sized bag — that from what he could understand, Sua helped packing — that carried enough clothes for at least a month.
Ivan is still somewhat out of it, but he managed to understand a few things Io had said when they got in the car, something about him staying at their home until she managed to talk some sense into his parents. She didn't go into details about what had happened back at his house given he clearly couldn't fully understand what was being said, his gaze was distant and he couldn't focus on anything for more than a few seconds.
Till hasn’t said a word since they got in the car, but whenever Ivan glanced to the side he’d find teal eyes already looking at him, — the boy had sat in the backseat with him instead of the front seat like he usually would — and he didn't let go of his hands not even for a second, squeezing it tightly in hopes it’ll help ground the raven in reality.
When they arrive, Io tells them good night and lets Till take Ivan to his room so they can sleep, assuring she’ll explain the situation on the next day.
The smaller is still quiet as they go upstairs, he doesn't say anything while opening Ivan’s bag and throwing him a fresh set of clothes so he can change, or when Ivan locks the bathroom door, or when he gets back and stares as Till makes the bed.
Ivan is.. Tense.
Till usually isn't quiet, even when he’s upset or when Ivan is, he’s always trying to lighten the mood by cracking jokes or talking about something unrelated to get both their minds off of it. Was he mad? Did Ivan finally inconvenience him enough that he got tired?
He doesn't know, he doesn't have it in himself to actually put much thought into it, — Ivan is so tired he would thank the heavens if he fell dead to the floor right now — so he moves around the room on autopilot, mind still at what his parents had said, about being sent away, about not being their son.
He thought that no matter how many things he couldn't do, or how many times he was proven right about not being capable to feel things normally like a human being, he thought he had perfected his mask enough that at least his parents would be satisfied with him. He thought they’d forgive him for committing one mistake after years of being exactly what they asked of him.
Of course, that isn't what happened. He’s not enough to be considered their son.
What was he here for then? What was his purpose? For as long as he can remember, all he ever worked for was being good enough for them, — that was his ultimate goal — he had given his all and stripped himself of his own identity as a person to become what they wanted, to become the perfect heir they had idealized. He had sacrificed so many things to please them, never once asking for anything in return other than their acknowledgement, he’d spend weekends and holidays studying, would practice his speech and facial expressions in the mirror and even drag Sua along to have her rate how natural they felt, he’d punish himself by studying even harder and even forgoing hangouts and sweet treats so he would be more motivated to get better grades.
All of that was for nothing. Ivan would never be good enough, he knows that now.
“What are you doing?” Till asks, snapping the raven out of his thoughts and bringing him back to the present.
Ivan looks down, he had just set a spare mattress he knew Till had in the back of his closet — that he was supposed to use whenever he slept over, but never did because they’d always end up together in Till’s bed anyway — on the floor.
He cocks his head to the side slightly, as he looks back at Till.
“I’m not sleeping on the floor, am I?” He asks, genuinely confused.
The silverhead lets out a long and exasperated sigh and pats the empty spot on the bed beside him. “Just come here, idiot.”
Ivan doesn't need to be told twice, he takes off his — Till’s borrowed — slippers and makes himself comfortable by his best friend’s side. Till turns off his bedside lamp and lays down on his side so he can look at him.
Till is quiet once more, but this time for some reason it doesn't feel like it’s a punishment, it feels like he’s just.. Studying him. Teal eyes scanning every single one of his features, and then staring into his eyes as if looking for something. Ivan had no idea what he could possibly be looking for on his face, but he could see it had the other anxious if the gnawing on his bottom lip was anything to go by.
He was about to fall asleep before Till broke the silence again.
“I’m sorry.” He whispers, and all of Ivan’s tiredness left his body after that.
“For what?”
Till’s eyes are glistening with tears now, and he takes a deep breath before answering. “For being so selfish.”
Ivan gives him a puzzled look, before bringing his hand to Till’s face to wipe away his tears. “You are the most selfless person I know, why would you say that?” He asks.
The smaller leans into his touch, and Ivan feels his heart swell with affection.
“I-I know you’re in pain now.. I’ve seen how your parents treat you and it’s nothing new but today..” He sniffles. “I saw just how much they hurt you. I saw how broken you really are and you must’ve been struggling for so long.” He snuggles closer to Ivan, and buries his head in the raven’s neck as he cries.
“It’s no wonder you did that.. I would’ve been so tired..” He mumbles into his neck.
“And how does that make you selfish?” Ivan asks, caressing the hair on Till’s nape for comfort.
Till raises his head to look him in the eyes, and he makes what Ivan thinks might be one of the most pained expressions he had ever seen him make.
“I don’t want to let you go.” Till confesses, voice barely audible like it’s something he should be ashamed of saying. “I know you are in pain, and I understand why you would choose to.. do that, b-but..” He takes another deep breath, rubbing his eyes so tears stop coming — it doesn't work.
“I-I want you to live, I want you to endure it for.. for me, because I don’t want to lose you! I want you to live just so you could stay with me, even if you’re unhappy and in pain, even if the thought of being alive makes you cry, I want you to endure it because I can’t live without you.”
Those words make every single cell in Ivan’s body stop in it’s tracks. He’s paralyzed as he stares at the boy in front of him, with tears running down his cheeks, bright pleading eyes and a slight blush that spreads from the tip of his ears to his neck, — only visible by moonlight coming from a small gap in the curtains — so beautiful and crying his heart out for him, because he wants Ivan to live for him so desperately that he feels selfish for it.
He doesn't say anything for a good minute. God, Ivan doesn't know what he could possibly say to that, but Till seems to take his silence for disapproval, because he covers his face and starts crying harder.
“I’m r-really sorry.. I-I’m such a bad f-friend..” He says through hiccups, and Ivan immediately jumps into action.
He brings Till closer, wrapping his arms around him tightly and leaving a kiss on his hair. “You’re not selfish, Till.”
Till tries to shake his head but the raven just holds him tighter. “You’re not, I’m just so happy you care so much about me that I don’t know what to say.. You’re crying for me right now, Thank you.” He says, and he can feel the way Till’s breath hitches. Eventually, Till melts into Ivan’s embrace and lets himself be comforted.
“Thank you.” Ivan repeats, mumbling into his hair, as a single tear rolls down his cheeks.
The tears stop after a few minutes, and Till’s breath finally even out, but they still don't let go of each other.
Their exhaustion is quickly catching up to them, and Ivan feels his eyelids getting heavier each second, he’s so tired he almost misses what Till says.
“I love you.”
It’s so quiet Ivan wonders if he imagined it, but it’s immediately followed by a chaste kiss on his chest, right where Till is resting against him.
He doesn't say anything in response to that, but his heart picks up speed so fast that a voice in the back of his mind — that sounds suspiciously like Sua — tells him that he might want to have that checked. He’s sure Till can feel how his heart is threatening to tear his flesh apart, he doesn't need verbal confirmation that Ivan had heard his words.
He closes his eyes, and falls asleep comforted by the warmth Till never fails to spread through his heart.
‘ ᯽ ,
The moment he wakes up, — before even opening his eyes — the first thing he notices is the faint smell of freshly made pancakes and warm coffee. The second thing is the fingers playing with the hair on his nape, he has a feeling that they have been there for a while now.
When he finally opens his eyes, his breath hitches as he finds Till already looking at him with a small smile and bright eyes. His hair is messy — like it usually is after sleeping, since he moves around so much — and his eyes are still puffy from sleep.
Ivan notices, as he takes in his surroundings, that their legs are tangled under the sheets, and Till’s other hand is wrapped around his waist, clutching his shirt as if Ivan would wake up and run away at any moment, as if there was any other place in the world he’d rather be than here. He also notices how the sunlight coming from the gaps between the curtains make the other’s eyes even more beautiful than they usually are, and how fast his own heart is beating at their closeness.
I don’t mind staying like this forever, Ivan thinks as he lets out a chuckle.
He takes Till’s hands from where it rests on his waist, bringing it to his lips and giving it a small kiss, in hopes the other will bristle and take his hand away.
He doesn't. Till blushes and looks away from Ivan, but he doesn't argue or push him away like the raven thought he would, which might be just as much of a good reaction in his book.
“How long have you been watching me? I thought I was the creepy one between us.” He says teasingly, but there’s an obvious softness to his voice that wouldn’t usually be there.
Because Till had been showering him with his own gentleness for so long, it’s time for Ivan to start repaying some of it.
“Shut the fuck up.” The younger mumbles, but he still doesn't take his hand away from Ivan’s grasp even as his thumb caresses his knuckles lightly. “Mom said she was making your favorite for breakfast."
Ivan hums.
That probably meant they should get up so as to not keep Io waiting, but neither of them move. Till’s fingers are still in his nape, and he’s still playing with the boy’s hands as a comfortable silence wraps around them.
Everything that happened yesterday felt distant, he feels oddly safe and relaxed for someone that should be overthinking about what would happen to him, — if he would be sent away, or even disowned — for once not worried about his future, the domestic atmosphere swallowing him and pushing away all of his worries. Being with Till often evokes those feelings in him, as if he was teleported to another dimension where they are the only ones left in the world, together in their small bubble.
Moments like these make him want.
Want to be near Till at all times, want the other to look at him with love in his eyes, to hold him and say it’ll all be okay and that he won’t leave no matter what.
It makes him crave love, — because that’s exactly what those moments feel like, being wrapped by love — which is not new to him, as he has long accepted that he is a lowly creature always dreaming of having things he shouldn’t have. Things he doesn't deserve.
Ivan wants desperately, and Till gives him exactly what he wants without him having to ask for it, probably not even knowing what it means to him. Like it’s easy, like it’s not some forbidden thing that should be kept away from Ivan.
Is he allowed to want it? Is he allowed to ask for it? To want him?
The raven flattens his hand, and it doesn't take two seconds for the smaller to do the same and interlock their fingers together. He lets out a shaky breath before speaking. “Should we go downstairs then?”
Till nods, and slowly retracts his hands as Ivan’s grip lessens. He gets up and heads towards the bathroom with a change of clothes, leaving Ivan alone with his own feelings.
When the younger comes back, Ivan is already changed out of his pajamas and ready to go downstairs. Neither of them say anything about what just happened, just like they haven't addressed any of their past actions that would lead to them having to confront the fact that their feelings for each other go beyond anything platonic.
Ivan has a feeling that he's the only one running away from it now.
"Good morning sleepyheads! Did you sleep well?" Io asks when they arrive in the kitchen.
Till grunts and sits down at his usual seat on the table, — where his mom usually already has the breakfast arranged for him — "Yeah."
She hums, and turns to Ivan as the raven sits on the chair closest to his friend's. "I slept well too, Till's bed is really comfortable." He says teasingly and Io gives them a knowing smile.
He turns to look at Till, and grins when he finds the other avoiding his gaze, with flushed cheeks.
The three of them chatter a bit like usual, the atmosphere is comfortable and it feels.. Good. Ivan feels like he belongs there, like he's not a nuisance and his presence is actually wanted and cherished in their home.
He feels at home when Io gives him extra pancakes and an extremely sweet cappuccino with extra whipped cream and tells him that she'll only allow him to digest that much sugar today, — lecturing him about diabetes exactly the way Till usually does — when she asks him about his recovery with not an ounce of judgment in her tone and eyes, when she teases about finding the two of them cuddling together in bed this morning and deciding to let them sleep a little longer.
He feels at home when Till laughs at a bad joke he made, when he passes him the caramel sauce without being asked because he noticed Ivan eyeing it, when the two of them are bickering and his mother laughs as she points out the way they argue like a married couple.
He feels so happy, with his heart so full that he wishes these moments could last forever. That he never had to go back home and face reality, — where he's not loved or cheered or even wanted unless he's achieving something — the cold and emptiness of his actual "home" suffocated him because it reflected how he felt.
Empty. Sad. Lonely. Utterly hopeless.
He wishes his forever looked like this, — surrounded by some of the people he loves the most, making memories he'll cherish forever, laughing and smiling as if his life wasn't falling apart — so much that even in moments he's happy and with a full heart he can't help but be bitter that he can't stay in this happy bubble.
Ivan smiles bitterly as he watches Io squeezing Till's cheeks while the other grumbles, — he doesn't push her away, he never does. — and startles when the woman turns back to look at him and catches him staring.
"How does it feel to be older now, Ivan?"
The raven watches as Till's eyes widen and he freezes at the question. Confused, he tilts his head slightly and asks . "What do you mean?"
Io stares at him for a moment, eyes quickly flickering from Till — who tries to subtly shake his head — to Ivan who's looking at her with questioning eyes. She chuckles confusedly before answering. "It's your birthday dear.. Did you forget?"
Ivan's entire world freezes at that moment. With everything that happened yesterday he had completely forgotten that his birthday was today.
Ivan is officially 18 years old.
He realizes after a minute that he hasn't replied to Io's question, both her and Till are looking at him worriedly and he should probably give them an acceptable response to what was asked, so he nods his head.
"Ah yeah.. I feel normal, I think." Is what he goes for.
Ivan doesn't feel normal in the slightest. His stomach is seizing and he feels like everything he just ate is about to come up his throat. He feels like the ground under him is about to collapse. It feels like the joke that is his existence has exceeded it's validation date and now entered a state of self destruction with the way he's feelings his insides twist violently. He was never supposed to live this long. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid with his last attempt.
Being 18 means being an adult. Being an adult comes with even more responsibilities and expectations for him. He can barely handle dealing with his current ones without feeling sick. How is he supposed to be a functioning adult when he can't even be a functioning teenager?
But he can't say any of that.
Not when Io made him all of his favorites for breakfast, and asked how it felt to be older with so much love in her eyes, without knowing how this day is probably the worst one in his entire life. Not when Till has been worried sick these past few weeks after his attempt, constantly checking in and making sure that he was at least physically fine. He owes this to the both of them.
Io and Till exchange confused looks, and panic washes over Ivan as he realizes the answer he gave probably wasn't appropriate or convincing enough.
"Ivan—" Till starts, but is cut off by the raven standing abruptly.
"U-Um I have to use the bathroom.. Sorry." He says hurriedly, before turning and running upstairs as fast he can.
He ignores the calls of his name as he locks himself in the bathroom and empties his guts in the toilet. His throat burns and he doesn't stop throwing up until there's nothing more for him to.
Ivan wipes his mouth with his hoodie's sleeve, and he can't bring himself to look at his reflection in the mirror when he's washing his face. He can't bear to see how disgusting he looks. He looks down to see someone's shadow — probably Till's — peeking from under the door, no knocking, no talking just.. There.
The raven lets out a tired sigh, sliding to the floor until he can sit down and bury his head between his legs. He doesn't cry, Ivan is so tired that his body wouldn't manage to produce tears no matter how much he wanted to.
He closes his eyes and tries not to think about what his parents will say when he's back home and they realize that his 18th birthday passed, he tries not to think about the university applications he has to start sending out soon, about the women his dad has listed for him to choose and get married, or about inheriting the family's business and working with that until he dies.
He tries not to think but it's all he can do. His breath is starting to get ragged, and he has to sink his nails into his palms so the pain keeps him grounded in the present, so he doesn't spiral. When that doesn't work, he moves to his wrists and scratches until they leave angry red marks.
Each second that passes breathing becomes harder, and as if on cue whoever is on the other side of the door gets tired of waiting and knocks.
"Ivan." Comes Till's soft voice. "Unlock the door, please." He asks calmly.
He doesn't answer, but he lifts his arm just enough to reach for the key and twist it. The door opens immediately and the silverhead slowly crouches down next to him, as if he would run like a scared animal if he moved recklessly.
Till brings him into a hug, carefully laying Ivan's head on his shoulder and caressing it lightly. "It's okay, you're not alone." He says softly.
They stay in the bathroom floor, without saying a word, until Ivan's breathing evens out. Till doesn't rush him, doesn't ask for an explanation even when he notices that the other has already calmed down, he just holds him through it, humming under his breath as Ivan tries to find strength in himself to face his best friend after the stunt he pulled.
"I wanted to take you somewhere today." Till breaks the silence, and Ivan finally raises his head to meet his eyes.
They are swollen, he notices and brings his hand up to caress Till's cheeks. It makes the smaller man smile, and Ivan's heart flutters at the sight. "Where?"
"It's a secret. Do you want to go?"
He looks down briefly, as if in thought, before nodding. He'd follow Till to the depths of hell if the other asked him to.
"I do."
‘ ᯽ ,
When Till said he wanted to take him somewhere, he thought about countless possible places but none of them were the playground where they had first met.
It's long abandoned now, but it was once a lively place with kids playing, parents chatting and people walking their dogs.
Ivan has many fond memories of this place, mainly because he cherishes all the moments he has spent with Till, — even the ones where they'd argue, beat each other bloody or where the younger would curse him and tell him to go bother someone else — but he never thought that Till would feel the same kind of nostalgia. At least, not with him, —considering that even if their relationship would take years to become a proper friendship — since he still had a good time with Mizi and Sua.
Till has been quiet since they left his house, but he's still holding his hand tightly as he leads the raven further into the playground. Before leaving, he made sure that Ivan was feeling okay, and that his throat didn't hurt. He also made him eat something small for lunch, and packed snacks for them to bring in their small trip.
The hours had flown by when he was inside of the bathroom, and he hadn't even noticed until the other pointed it out.
Till stops walking when they reach a bench near a cliff. There's a fence that separates them from it, but he's sure it wasn't there when they were children. From up there, they could see a huge part of the city and also the sky since there were no houses or skyscrapers blocking the view.
They sat down, and stared at the view quietly for a few moments, until Ivan decided to break the silence.
"Were you feeling nostalgic?"
Till chuckles dryly. "I guess so."
Ivan gulps as it becomes quiet again. This time, the silence is heavy. He feels it in the air, in the way Till is fidgeting with his fingers on his lap, in his own heart beating faster than usual.
Ivan and Till don't talk. They step on eggs around each other and hope that they won't suddenly say the secret words that will trigger an argument — or even worse, hurt the other — but after everything that's been happening, they can't postpone this conversation any longer.
Ivan knew it was unavoidable from the moment he woke up in that hospital bed. He knew it when Till cried about being scared he wouldn't wake up again. He knew it when the other would knock desperately on the bathroom door whenever he closed it, or when he'd hug him tightly in his sleep, he knew it when he talked to Sua.
He knew it when he realized he loved Till, and he knew it last night when Till told Ivan that he loved him.
It doesn't mean he's ready for it, though.
"I'm sorry." Till breathes out. "I don't know how to do this right."
Ivan looks at his friend and nods quietly, because he honestly doesn't know either. He doesn't even know what they are supposed to be doing.
"I tried— I asked everyone for like.. Advice so I could do this right and not like— like pressure you or back you into a corner but I don't even know what to say to you after all the things they told me." He says.
"It's okay." Ivan tells him, he opens his legs slightly so their thighs are touching.
"I'm going to be super fucking selfish right now, so I need you to promise you won't be angry, even if it's reasonable." The smaller finally turns to look at him, his lips are wobbly and his eyes are glassy because of the unshed tears.
"I promise." Hell. He could never be really mad at him.
Till closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Ivan can tell that whatever he wants to say is demanding a lot of strength from him.
"I-I'm in love with you." He confesses, with his eyes still closed, as if he'd backtrack on everything he's about to say depending on his reaction.
"I know I'm being selfish right now. I know I should be focused on you and trying to help you because I know you're struggling so much but.. I've been such a coward for years because I've known about my feelings for so long and I could never bring myself to say anything, a-and then you almost.." Till swallows through his tears, bringing his hands up to his neck to squeeze it lightly.
Ivan's holding his breath, hands twitching from where they are resting in the bench.
"I need you to know this because I can't live without you. I love you so much and i-it— it's ugly because I can see now how being alive f-feels unbearable to you and I still can't bear the thought of losing you. I need you alive even if you're hurt and suffering because I'm so fucking selfish and I love you so much I could explode with it."
He's actually crying now, the hands in his neck tighten and Ivan has to grab them before Till actually hurts himself. His eyes snap open to look at Ivan, but the raven looks down before their eyes could meet.
"I love you, Ivan. Y-You don't even have to love me back j-just.." He cries, nuzzling his head into the other's shoulder. "I-I want to help you, I want to love you properly a-and take care of you but you never tell me what you're actually thinking."
Ivan sighs, releasing Till's hands so he can hold his face instead. He smiles when the younger nuzzles into his hands, and wipes his tears away gently.
"Ivan, please talk to me." Till begs.
He is weak. How could Ivan ever deny him when he asks like that? After baring his soul? He has no choice but to bare his own.
"I don't know where to start.. I just.. I feel like an empty shell. I don't know who I am, I just act the way people expect me to act but it's getting.. Tiring." He says, and it feels like he's tearing his insides apart and showing them off.
"I don't feel like a person. I can't even.. Feel things normally.. I— I'm not even capable of love, at least not the kind of love you deserve. I'm wrong, Till. It's like.. I'm not meant to exist."
He can't even look into Till's eyes as he talks. He's ashamed of himself for being so weak.
"I'm tired. I don't want to play into these roles I created to please people anymore, but I'm nothing outside of them. I don't want to graduate and get married to some random girl my father will pick for me, or inherit the family's business. I don't want to keep pleasing them and receive nothing in return. I'm just.. So tired of everything." He gulps, his entire body is tense and he feels like he could throw up or die at any moment, but Till doesn't let him spiral.
"What do you want then?" Till asks.
"What do you mean?"
"If you don't want to do that, then what do you want?"
The raven stares at him. What does he want?
"I don't know.." Ivan says, but he knows that's not true. He knows Till can tell he's lying too, because he's still waiting for a proper answer. "I can't have what I want."
"What is it?"
Ivan shakes his head, but Till isn't having any of it. "What do you want? Tell me." He demands, in a firm voice, grabbing his face and forcing him to maintain eye contact.
"I want you. I want to be with you. I want you to never get tired of me or leave me. I want to be a part of your life, to wake up next to you and have all of our meals together for as long as possible."
"You have me." Till says softly.
"No. I don't deserve you, I don't deserve any of that." Ivan chuckles bitterly before pressing his lips into a thin line, his snaggletooth digging into his bottom lip.
"I'll stay with you forever, so you better start deserving me now, you fucker." He declares, standing up and bringing Ivan with him.
"If you don't want to pretend anymore then don't, if you think you are no one outside those roles then be no one until you find yourself again. If you don't want to marry a random girl then you can marry me and if you don't want to inherit your father's bullshit then let's drop out and run away together. We can do it right now if you want to!" Till says resolutely, and it's so unexpected Ivan actually laughs.
"Why the fuck are you laughing!? I'm serious you know!" He steps on Ivan's foot and the other just laughs more.
"Ouch— That's why it's funny—" Ivan says before he's being tackled to the ground by the other.
"I fucking hate you! Stupid fucking idiot I can't believe I'm in love with you!" Till snaps.
Ivan is laying on the dirty floor of the playground with Till hovering above him, calling him every name on the book and declaring his love simultaneously, it's so unreal he feels hysterical.
He tucks the hair falling into Till's face behind the boy's ear and smiles softly at him. "I love you." He — finally — declares, eliciting a beautiful blush on Till.
"I thought you were being nice by not rejecting me directly with how long you were taking to say it back.." He mumbles shyly, with a small pout om his face.
"Yeah? I'm sorry." Ivan gives him a smug smile.
Till rolls his eyes. "You're not fucking sorry." He says, leaning down to kiss him, effectively shutting him up.
Ivan laughs into the kiss, but his hand comes up to hold Till's face and guide him. It's clumsy and messy, but it's everything he's ever wanted.
His snaggletooth catches on the other's bottom lip, making him whine and Ivan uses the opportunity to deepen the kiss and invade Till's mouth with his tongue. He moans when Till sucks on his tongue, pulling a giggle from the smaller.
When they separate gasping for air, their lips are swollen and there's a thin line of spit that connects them. Til's eyes are glassy and Ivan is so in love.
"Love you." Till says.
Ivan smiles, bringing him in for a small kiss. "I love you."
The other sighs happily against his lips, but Ivan has to ruin the moment by teasing him. "We can't run away though, and also if you want to marry me you should make a decent proposal."
Till makes an angry incredulous noise and sits back to gawk at the raven. "You're so— so fucking infuriating!" He yells, and Ivan laughs at him again.
"You have to get into a big art school like you've always wanted, and I'll trail behind you until you get tired of me." He says, — seriously now — and it makes Till smile lovingly at him.
"I told you I'm staying forever, you will stay with me and we'll find something you want to do together, with the others too." Till kisses his cheek. "It's not going to be easy, I don't expect you to magically get better or anything.. But we'll all take baby steps together, I want to help you until you can be who you are and do what you want, until you are strong. I want to help you every step along the way and then more until we are both old and wrinkly."
Ivan doesn't notice he's crying until Till starts kissing his tears away. He has never felt this loved, but he's also never been this scared.
"What if I can't do that?" He asks. He doesn't want to disappoint Till, he doesn't want to see the look om his face when he realizes that Ivan can't be fixed.
"One step at a time and we'll get there eventually, even if I have to make you get up again and again and again. We'll do this." Till says, and he sounds so confident and sure of himself that it has Ivan believing in it too.
Ivan hugs him tightly, mumbling into his neck. "I love you."
‘ ᯽ ,
They had laid a cloth on the floor to eat he snacks Till packed for them, and the smaller was currently feeding him the cake he had baked with his mother for Ivan's birthday. "The sky looks pretty doesn't it?" Till asks.
The raven looks up. The sun will be setting soon, so the sky is a mix of pink, orange and blue. He feels strangely at peace when he looks at it.
"You're prettier though." He says, turning back to his boyfriend with a grin.
"Shut the fuck up." Till bristles and shoves the cake inside of his mouth. The blush in his cheeks doesn't go unnoticed though.
Ivan smiles — with his mouth full of cake — as Till talks about how cheesy and embarrassing he is.
Maybe life isn't so bad.