Chapter Text
It was nice—
good
even, to experience such a love that made his stomach and heart twist and turn into funny feelings. Feelings that made him want to kick up his feet, reverence that made him toss and turn at night, infatuation that made him squeal like a teenage girl into his pillow, feelings that made him stay up way past than he should be all because he was thinking about the person of his affections.
To say the least, it's amusing how their relationship started. A friend yet not a friend. An acquaintance he was always made aware of. Someone that stole the spotlight in his mind. Till, who always stood out to him no matter what others thought. Even when Till had no one else, Ivan was there. Watching, observing, seeing. Every little thing that he had to offer.
There were times he had been noticed back by Till, unfortunately in ways that could offer a bad impression on him. He had let his curiosity get the better of him. An unknown desire for attention caused a stolen pencil or two. Till pesters him to this day about it from time to time, he admits neither truth nor lies on every instance. After all, it was their little secret.
Overtime, with Ivan’s persistent regard of the other, and with being in close proximity, they became what you would call friends. At least, that's how Ivan could describe their relationship. A bickering fest one would say, admittedly, one sided for sure.
If Ivan could pinpoint a beginning to these attachments, he would say it was their first meeting. A story he would tell his other friends, one from when he was fairly young. Calling back on it is easy, for he could remember it so incredibly vividly that you would never believe him.
Eye contact—that was the first thing he’d done then. Everyone said good eye contact was respectful, so he did just that. It might have creeped out some people, but for Till, who looked back with equal fervor. It sparked something, a flick, a switch. Something of that sort. For eyes that shined like bright gems, like paraiba tourmaline, that gazed back into his own obsidian and ruby. The rest was history.
Now, Ivan grasps his chest in tremors. Tears evoked from the sheer pain, coughing up droplets of crimson and petals drowned within. A violet hue peeked out in a sea of scarlet. Looking closer and rubbing off excess liquid, he could tell these were edelweiss.
A wheezing laugh escaped his lips. A beautiful flower indeed. He thought.
He had known of his affections only quite recently (or rather, only recognized such feelings) for the one person who had all of his attention—his best friend.
Till, his one true beloved. Someone that will always be Ivan's, but will never be Ivan's. Someone so close yet completely out of reach.
He couldn't confess. There was no way he could.
So it would be better to die with them. Erase his existence from his beloved's life. Hopefully he could move on. It wouldn't be too bad if Till didn't though. It would leave something in Till’s mind, an everlasting piece of himself. It would truly make him happy then.
Days passed knowing he had this disease. One so easily curable but he'd rather be put under 6 feet than get rid of his feelings surgically, or confessing only to end up in heartbreak. So he would do just that.
Ivan had found out during his third year of highschool. Their last before going off to university, although he wouldn't make it until then.
A week later from the first instance of bloody petals, Ivan had gone to the hospital to get his newfound disease checked out, to see the amount of time he had left.
“You have a year at most,” the doctor had told him. “Most likely 7 months based on the severity of your symptoms.”
So a week after he graduated
Ivan was fine with that. Then, no one would have to know. He wouldn't let anyone know. He'd keep this secret and drag it to his grave.
It was especially easy, being an orphan and all. Perhaps that was why he was so drawn to Till? Someone who radiated sunshine—like a fiery fire unwilling to be extinguished. He knew the reason why after all, it was Till's mother. Someone so genuinely kind and prepared her son how to stand up for himself and taught him his gentleness befitting the same trait of his caregiver.
Ivan longed for such warmth. So he clung to Till’s like he couldn't live without it. Yet it hurt when he saw him being kind to others. Not being sweet to him. He wanted the affections so bad, but he couldn't have it.
Ivan, a man with aspirations unlike any other — even so — he wouldn't make himself beg, grovel, or anything to make him seem more pathetic than he thought himself to be. To have Till see him as someone worth loving. Oh, he begged and begged to himself for such a chance.
Pity him. For he wouldn't take matters into his own hands, too afraid to confess, terrified of the potential rejection — of what would happen to their current friendship.
A turbulent roller-coaster of emotions that threatened to tear his mind apart. He was sick of it.
Yet he continued to love Till anyways, he was just helpless in doing so. A root grown so deep he couldn't pull it out. One he actively fed and nourished while ignoring a poison filling his every gland.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Another day, another common practice, another look into what seemed to be his skies. A gaze so intense, it made Till look away.
Ivan giggled to himself at the sight. He loved Till with all of his heart. There was no one else that could possibly compare. Inky observance roaming across every feature that made his love so beautiful, so perfect.
He could spend all day listing out such things. To his ruffled ashen hair, his questionable taste in fashion, to how he looks flustered, how passionate he was about the things he liked. Too many things to list out, too many memories he shared with Till. Everything that made him want to hold so dearly and rip out his heart at the same time.
An emptiness filled, a longing ache. Love was too complicated for him. He just wanted to cherish his beloved, yet these conflicting feelings got in the way. Especially with the whole disease of him dying from flowers trying to take hostage of his poor feelings.
It happened to be a day in class. An urge to cough up a petal, in front of his beloved. Ivan couldn’t let this happen.
To say that Ivan was terrified was an understatement. There was no way he would let Till know— or to worry him, upset him. That’d be the one thing Ivan would hate. So he did the one thing he could— excuse himself with a finger and run to the bathroom.
Petals unraveled themselves out of his throat and into the unsanitary toilet. HIs body shook from every convulsion, every thought that raced his mind.
That was too close for comfort. HIs body stuck with fear, terrified for his secret being exposed. HIs facade of being okay, something that wouldn’t show true.
Ivan knew he couldn’t hide this forever though, but today wasn’t the time. Perhaps someone could help him hide his doomed fate?
…
No, he wouldn’t let someone feel the guilt, making someone keep his secret without doing anything about it. He might as well internalize everything until his death. It was better that way.
He groaned in frustration, added with the weakness in his body after splurting out ounces of blood. Ivan’s body slouched over the toilet. Knees on the ground threatening to bruise. Even with an oncoming sensation of light-headedness, he refused to pass out.
Slowly, but surely, he made his way up to standing on his two feet. Yet as he was to exit the stall, there stood the senior he knew all too well—Luka—staring at him in disbelief.
“Ivan?” he asked cautiously, “Are you okay?”
Ivan almost wanted to laugh. Did it look like he was okay? With the blood running down his chin? No, of course not.
So he simply gave Luka one look that said it all, and with his vision slowly becoming more blurry, he couldn’t help but collapse right then and there; with words that barely managed to escape. “Don’t tell anyone about this.”