Ivan does not evade his question, and he has a straightforward answer. What does he do with that information? What can he do with it? What does it mean to face lips? What is kissing? He feels as if he has been lied to. How can it be a common way to show love and affection when he has been left with a throbbing pain? It never goes away. At best, it becomes a mild ache, and at worst, it's now—an open wound. No, the comparison is lacking. Even the scratches on his hand don't alleviate confusion. But if that's what Ivan wants, then what does he have to say about it? He doesn't get a choice of what his experience could be; he doesn't get to frame that moment when somber and severe darkness make the backdrop of a deluge. The whole encounter is red.
If Ivan wants that, if he wants a lover, then what is Till doing here in his room?
He knows. It's been easier on him. He doesn't have to lose himself in his thoughts. He doesn't have to argue with himself or wear himself out until the point of collapse. But how stupid is he? There are drugs for that! This place must have that too. But he is an idiot with a single talent that's become entirely useless. ]
Okay. And now you know.
[ He won't reach out for Ivan's hand. Not this time. Instead, he is going to sit up—the first step in his escape. ]
I guess you get to have all your first chances here. That's good. Yeah. So good luck with that.
[ Till was right to reject him. The slowly sinking pain was a familiar eventuality to his boldness. Would it have made a difference if he told him that he wanted to do it with him again. What would be the point in mentioning a 'second chance' otherwise? His hand remained on the bed, Ivan's dark eyes on that emptiness as Till shifted on the bed.
He said he would stay, but now the talk of kissing was making him run away.
Till talks of first chances as if he wasn't Ivan's firsts. Did Ivan have any of Till's? The correction and retort doesn't reach his lips, scared away the way the other had shut down. He couldn't tell if Till was mad, or annoyed that he had to listen to Ivan talk about stuff like that.
He didn't have an answer to the hostility, closing his hand and looking at the opposite wall instead. The silence after their fights was normal, too. Being stuck in place and not knowing what to do to help was as natural as breathing at this point. They'll stay away from each other for a while and then try to... do something. Till didn't really have a need to come back if he didn't want to. He had other friends, and kinder people now.
Would Till punch him if he tried to grab him and make him stay? Probably. He's been hit for less. He'll keep that thought in the back of his mind.]
[ His words cut the conversation to an end, and Ivan's silence is an admission that they cannot continue speaking. They have reached the point of disconnect. Any further attempts would likely lead to physical violence (started by him). Then his choice is correct. This is Ivan's room, Ivan's space, and a place he wants to invite someone, the someone he is facing lips with. Till has a room of his own, that's where he belongs. That's where he will go. Finally, he gets up and heads for the door. There is no need for parting words when there is a watch to communicate through.
If Ivan ever finds he needs something.
Well, he doubts now that he will say anything. Maybe his attention will be entirely diverted, and that means he must find something to focus on, too. He has his music, he has his drawings (all entirely useless things to match a terrible personality). He will go to his room once the door is locked behind him Till doesn't plan to leave until it is absolutely necessary. ]
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no subject
Ivan does not evade his question, and he has a straightforward answer. What does he do with that information? What can he do with it? What does it mean to face lips? What is kissing? He feels as if he has been lied to. How can it be a common way to show love and affection when he has been left with a throbbing pain? It never goes away. At best, it becomes a mild ache, and at worst, it's now—an open wound. No, the comparison is lacking. Even the scratches on his hand don't alleviate confusion. But if that's what Ivan wants, then what does he have to say about it? He doesn't get a choice of what his experience could be; he doesn't get to frame that moment when somber and severe darkness make the backdrop of a deluge. The whole encounter is red.
If Ivan wants that, if he wants a lover, then what is Till doing here in his room?
He knows. It's been easier on him. He doesn't have to lose himself in his thoughts. He doesn't have to argue with himself or wear himself out until the point of collapse. But how stupid is he? There are drugs for that! This place must have that too. But he is an idiot with a single talent that's become entirely useless. ]
Okay. And now you know.
[ He won't reach out for Ivan's hand. Not this time. Instead, he is going to sit up—the first step in his escape. ]
I guess you get to have all your first chances here. That's good. Yeah. So good luck with that.
no subject
He said he would stay, but now the talk of kissing was making him run away.
Till talks of first chances as if he wasn't Ivan's firsts. Did Ivan have any of Till's? The correction and retort doesn't reach his lips, scared away the way the other had shut down. He couldn't tell if Till was mad, or annoyed that he had to listen to Ivan talk about stuff like that.
He didn't have an answer to the hostility, closing his hand and looking at the opposite wall instead. The silence after their fights was normal, too. Being stuck in place and not knowing what to do to help was as natural as breathing at this point. They'll stay away from each other for a while and then try to... do something. Till didn't really have a need to come back if he didn't want to. He had other friends, and kinder people now.
Would Till punch him if he tried to grab him and make him stay? Probably. He's been hit for less. He'll keep that thought in the back of his mind.]
no subject
If Ivan ever finds he needs something.
Well, he doubts now that he will say anything. Maybe his attention will be entirely diverted, and that means he must find something to focus on, too. He has his music, he has his drawings (all entirely useless things to match a terrible personality). He will go to his room once the door is locked behind him Till doesn't plan to leave until it is absolutely necessary. ]