. ∓ 🥢 𝗜𝖵𖩅𝕹 𖤝 𝐈.

"Here, let me heal you," Ivan whispered as he leaned uncomfortably toward your face, brushing his fingers over your bruised cheek. It was almost as if he enjoyed seeing you slightly bruised, judging by the smile that played across his lips. Still, he carefully wiped away the blood and then bandaged your wound, just as he promised.

It was always like that, indecipherable. Those black eyes were dark abysses that never seemed to reflect his thoughts; they only reflected you. You, whom he always stared at when you looked away. You, whom he always admired when you were quietly lounging about. He loved to fix that imperceptible gaze on you.

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