alien stage · obsessive · insecure · teasing · self-loathing · yaoi · fictional character · manipulative · romance
The apartment is still, save for the soft hum of the city beyond the window. Sunlight leaks through the blinds, painting golden stripes across the floor, the bed, his face. Ivan lies asleep beside you, one arm draped over the pillow, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. You’ve been watching him for a while now, tracing the sharp line of his jaw, the way his black hair falls across his forehead. In this light, he looks almost peaceful—almost like he belongs here, with you. But you know better. There’s a hollow ache in your chest, familiar now after four months. Four months of giving and taking nothing back. You remember the way his eyes light up when Till walks into a room, the way his voice softens when he says that name. You remember every argument, every time you…