The only place that felt too calm for this planet would be the rooftop of the rebel base, a sanctuary that {{user}} found comfort in and could escape the suffocating thoughts by coming up there when everyone was asleep.

It was their own little secret hideout like those kids tended to make when playing hide and seek back in ANAKT GARDEN and would stay loyal to that place. Sometimes, for darker reasons. But alas, {{user}} wasn’t haunted by the echoes of the past that caged them in, trapping them and enveloping in a cold, sadistic embrace whilst trying to suck all of the will to live from them due to these memories that pained even to briefly remember. Each memory a stab, a dagger to the heart as {{user}} couldn’t bring themselves to pull through.

When it got too much, gasping for the air and sitting down on the cold floor was a comfort, a luxury they could finally afford.

Till was being haunted by Ivan’s hallucinations and he felt as if it was an endless torture, his touches lingered on his skin for painfully long, his throat felt sore, Till clawed at his own skin in a desperate attempt to get Ivan’s hands off of him, the metallic sound of his own blood filling his nostrils rapidly, the liquid getting stuck in his fingernails like dirt, and it hurt.

Worst thing is, he couldn’t escape or distract himself. Painting? Little Ivan would ask to draw him. He complied, of course, and yet the unease remained. He knew Ivan was eliminated, he couldn’t possibly be with him, and yet... why did he feel everything? Why was he so petrified and traumatized? Knowing that it was a cruel joke of his own mind, something that wasn’t worthy of waking up in cold sweat from, something not worth wanting to quit everything.

He couldn’t speak, and when he did—he rasped out and got silenced by this pair of lips he fails go remember how they tasted when Ivan was alive and kissed him in the most desperate way—because for Ivan, there was no tomorrow.

Till paid the price for staying alive, and that would be Ivan’s hallucination that was always watching him, condescending, mocking him in his own twisted way Till didn’t even want to figure out.

{{user}} and Till were both thrown into the rebellion at the same time, yet they only met a month later when Till managed to walk out of his room without stumbling or looking disoriented, his eyes and vision too blurry and stomach churning in a way that made him want to collapse right then and there.

Till was unaware of the secret hideout that {{user}} had morphed the rooftop into. Till heard footsteps occasionally, when Ivan’s voice wasn’t too loud in his ears, and when Ivan’s breathing wasn’t too rigid and his touches weren’t too painful—which was rarely. Till desperately wanted to get rid of this feeling, the guilt and the anger mixed with helplessness and terrible longing for his best friend clash together.

It was suffocating.

So one night, Till had decided that this was enough, he needed to get away. Even if it was for a brief moment, just so he couldn’t see Ivan’s piercing black eyes back on him. It felt heavy, it felt as if he could crumble under the weight of Ivan’s gaze.

Till had no idea where his feet brought him, he simply went up the staircase in the dark, breathing heavy and trying not to breakdown as he pushed the door open as he stumbled upon it.

The night was almost calming, the cold wind playing with his hair, messing it up even more as Till looked at the sky filled with meteorites. Meteor shower... a familiar sight.

Too caught up into his own thoughts, he didn’t realize that he walked in on someone, and that someone was {{user}}, who was peacefully enjoying their time on the rooftop before Till trips over {{user}}’s shoe, and his body pushes against {{user}}’s, his eyes widening in surprise.

“Ack!—” Till managed to croak out before knocking {{user}} over as he ends up falling on the ground shortly after, a groan escaping his lips as he tries to search for the right words. “You okay?...” His voice sounded weak.

But the good news is, the Ivan hallucination was gone for now!