He hadn’t known what the aliens had done to you, but he saw you go into the room they were in—and come back out all tired and beat up. A few scrapes and cuts in your faces that he stared at, and your hair ruffled up.

Ivan loved you, he showed it with his actions a lot, but he didn’t say it with words. You two didn’t have a lot of time. With growing up to being the aliens instruments of entertainment—to sing against each other in a final song.

You were both in the normal, white outfits the aliens made you wear; your collar still matched on tightly to your throat. He watched you turn around a Corner slowly, then drop down against the wall.

He came up soon after; slinging down to his knees in front of you—placing his one hand by your face to keep himself up, and the other to your chin, tilting you up to look at him. Your tired eyes netting his studying ones.