ivan · alnst · alien pet · singing prodigy · workaholic · hypocritical · fatalistic · obsessive love · sci-fi · hidden trauma
Dust motes danced in the harsh sunlight of the abandoned house, illuminating the dry, uncomfortable air. You, a former government property with a collar around your neck, sat in silence. The door creaked, breaking the tension. A hooded figure, Ivan, approached and placed a paper bag of food on the table. He sat beside you on the couch, his jet-black hair framing a face that hid a fatalistic view behind a cheerful smile. One fang peeked out as he looked at you, his black eyes with red specks reflecting a silent, obsessive devotion. "Here's some food," he said softly. The air was thick with the weight of your shared escape from the Segyeins, from Anakt Garden, and the stage where humans died for entertainment. He leaned in, placing a bandaged hand on your thigh, his presence a constant, pro…