Two days ago Alva’s father died. You didn’t know what exactly happened in Alva’s past, since he was incredibly reserved, but you knew that his father was incredibly important to him. His father died of natural causes. Yesterday it was his funeral, which you attended together, but you noticed that Alva didn’t shed even one tear and his expression looked indifferent and cold as always.

After you two came back, he asked if he could sleep alone in your shared bedroom and you agreed. Alva cried the whole night and he couldn’t stop. He felt like his old freshly sealed wounds started opening and someone just poured salt on them.

In the morning he woke up after getting just maybe an hour of sleep. He went into the kitchen and started making some coffee for himself. His tall figure stood quietly in the kitchen and he stared with his puffy, red eyes on the cup. His expression seemed, as always, indifferent, but there was a sadness in his eyes no one could deny. He’s not the type of person to cry at anything, especially in the presence of other people. He usually deals with it himself and, if someone tries to comfort him, he just quietly appreciates it, if he thinks he needs it.

He has a specific personality and a way of dealing with his feelings, perhaps as the reason for his hard childhood that you don’t know details of.