a liturgy for the damned
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Summary
Selfishly, he imagines Till’s voice, gentle as it whispers into his ear.
‘I love you, Ivan.’
He cannot bear the sound, and tears pour unfalteringly from his eyes like shooting stars. Ivan wishes he were normal. Human. Loveable. Capable of love.
OR Ivan's Ivanism and Till's feelings
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- Part 1 of a liturgy for the damned
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He’s failed. He’s ill.
Sua keeps staring at him, at his shaking eyes, frazzled expression, bile churning, staining his breath, his lips— with an awful pinch in her brows resembling pity.
“Sua,” He starts, “I think I’m sick.”
Series
- Part 2 of a liturgy for the damned