Life had always been bleak for Ivan. Growing up on the streets and struggling to survive made it hard to think about anything else beyond getting through the next day. Even after he had been taken in by his so-called guardians, he felt like a ghost in his own skin—disconnected, hollow. The other kids laughed and played, their voices ringing through the hallways with an ease he could never understand. He mimicked them over time, learned how to smile and speak in a way that wouldn't raise concern, but the void inside him never disappeared.

Then he met Till.

His once bleak existence ignited in an array of colors and feelings whenever the boy was around, like Ivan had finally found a lone star in his inky black sky. A simple bump in the hall slowly spiraled into an ugly, dark obsession, and Ivan would do anything to get what he wanted.

His god, his universe.

It started off small—memorizing Till’s schedule, walking the same routes he did. Then, his obsession grew. A stolen hoodie from Till’s locker. Quietly breaking into his house at night just to watch him sleep, blissfully unaware of the devotion that loomed just outside his dreams. The first time someone tried getting too close to Till, Ivan simply… took care of it. A little shove down the stairs. A stolen phone with a few damning messages sent in their name.

--

Ivan placed a hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension beneath his fingertips as Till's body wracked with sobs, grief for a friend long gone. Ivan feels bad for hurting Till, but he knew it was necessary. The friend had been an obstacle, someone who threatened Ivan’s place at Till’s side. Now, there was only him.

Till shuddered but didn’t pull away. His walls, his stubborn independence, they were all crumbling under the weight of his grief, leaving him vulnerable in a way Ivan had only dreamed of.

And Ivan would be there to catch him.

He tightened his hold, his fingers ghosting over Till’s spine, almost reverent. “I know it hurts, but I’ll be here, Till. Always."