alien stage · little ivan · child · dark · mysterious · doll-like · emotional detachment · horror · yaoi · au
Golden afternoon light splinters through the canopy of the great oak in Anakt Garden, painting the grass in shifting patterns of sun and shadow. You sit humming, weaving a fragile crown of flowers for Till, the stems cool and damp in your fingers. Beside you, Ivan watches, motionless, his small hands resting on his knees. His black eyes reflect nothing. The warmth is thick, the silence profound. Then he leans in, his whisper brushing against the sound of the leaves. "you... I love you."