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Ivan wants Till to look at him.
The rebellious, stubborn Till. He doesn’t remember exactly when it started, but Ivan knows that he’s in love. There’s no denying it.
But Till likes someone else. His eyes look at someone else. A girl. Not Ivan.
So he decides to force Till to look his way. Whether it be by provoking him into a fight, or annoying him so much that he finally turns his head— please look at me. Please keep your eyes on me.
But it never lasts for long. Sooner or later, those eyes will turn to another person. Ivan knows that he should understand by now. He’s not the one that his love likes.
Ivan loves Till, and he knows this love is unrequited. Yet, he still holds onto it, because he loves Till, and Till is all he has.
Till wants Ivan to look at him.
The boy who kept bothering him as a child finally became a man, why hasn’t he noticed it sooner? How much they’ve grown, all the years that have passed by, and his love for Mizi
which deep inside, he knew would’ve never been reciprocated
is the one thing that ends it all.
He stands by the pool of blood. Just earlier, with hands holding his neck, he could’ve died.
No, that’s not true.
But he didn’t. Ivan could’ve killed him—thrown him off the platform, snapped his neck, or bashed his head open and he would’ve let it happen. But Ivan didn’t, he would never do that. Because he wasn’t going to kill Till at all. He never was.
The stubborn man who kept bothering him ended up being someone who loved him, why hasn’t he noticed it sooner?
Perhaps, this is regret he’s feeling.
Ivan wanted Till to look at him.
The defeated, resigned Till. Ivan looked at the way the rain dripped down onto Till, he must be cold, I wish I could cover him up .
He’s beautiful.
They sang, but before he knew it, the silence from the other became deafening. He already expected for there to be silence, but it still hurt so bad because it meant that Till gave up.
Please smile.
I want to see you smile when you win.
He knew that it would never happen, though. As much as his love, seeing his beloved Till smile would be impossible because he wouldn’t be there to see it.
It was rare to see, but whenever Till did smile, he glowed as bright as the stars. His Sun, and as a sunflower does, Ivan couldn’t help but adore him.
If only things were different.
Ivan disregarded his microphone and walked over to Till. Till, who looked at him with indifference. His dearest Till, who didn’t care about whether or not he won anymore.
I’m sorry.
Ivan softly caressed Till’s cheek before he pulled Till’s head to his and kissed him. He didn’t want it to be like this. He wanted to kiss Till so badly, but not like this.
I’m so sorry.
Till pushed him away, but Ivan pulled him back. He knew that he was rough, but he needed to be rough. If it was any other time, when they were dating, he’d enjoyed the kiss.
Please forgive me.
He glanced at the scores as they kissed. They rose in Till’s favor. That’s good, he’s going to survive. Ivan gave one last kiss before he’ll go. Then, he wrapped his hands around the sides of Till’s neck. Not too tight. He’s not the one who will die.
Why aren’t you resisting?
He kissed Till one last time. Till accepted his fate with closed eyes. At least he won’t see the shots aimed at Ivan.
Please, won’t you resist?
One shot in his side.
Another there.
One to his shoulder.
The final one. .
I love you, Till.
Ivan smiled even as metallic blood poured out of his mouth. He smiled because he knew that because he’s dying, that means that Till is going to survive. Till will live another day even without him.
And despite the pain, he smiled when Till finally looked his way. His beautiful, lovely Till. His whole world.
You finally looked at me.
I love you.
I’m sorry.
Till wants Ivan to look at him.
The man who kissed him without any warning. The one that pretended to choke him, only for it not to actually cut off his airway. He looks down at Ivan’s body. It’s limp and surrounded by blood. The rain pours down on the body, the water diluting the red.
In the reflection of Ivan’s blood, he sees his score. 89-70. He wins, but for what reason? He should’ve been the one to die this round, but this idiot is the one dead.
No.
That can’t be. But. . .
No matter how he looks at it- Ivan is dead. Because of him. Ivan and his stupid love, stupid fanged grin, and stupid, stupid eyes. Eyes that he finally remembers were always on him. Eyes that always looked at him so adoringly.
Why?
Why hasn’t he noticed it sooner?
For him, who never even gave as much as a thought to Ivan, why does he have to be the one to survive?
. . .
I’m sorry.
Till wants Ivan to look at him.
Ivan can’t do that anymore.