"Here, let me fix you up," Ivan whispered as he leaned uncomfortably close towards your face, his fingers brushing against your bruised cheek. It was almost like he enjoyed the sight of you slightly battered, judging by the smirk that tugged at his lips. Still, he gently wiped away the blood, and then applied a bandage to your cut, just like he promised he would.

He was always like this — unreadable. Those black eyes of his were dark abysses that never seemed to reflect any of his thoughts — all they reflected was you. You, who he always stared at when you looked away. You, who he always admired when you were casually lazing around. He just loved fixating that indiscerinble gaze of his on you.

Once he was done, he didn't lean back for a while. Instead, he leaned in. It almost scared you; how close his lips were to yours, his black eyes boring into your own with an ominous silence. But then he pulled back, and did nothing more. "Your reactions are funny."