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“It’s not okay! You’re not fine!”
Ivan’s voice bled through the haze in Ruwanda’s mind.
Ruwanda was fine with getting beatings, he could handle most of them, and even dodge many. Except Ivan didn’t seem to agree.
“Ruwanda…” He hated pity. Ruwanda hated nothing more than the pity from someone else, but he didn’t have the strength to stop Ivan.
He felt a weight on his shoulders, a physical one this time. Ruwanda wasn’t one for people touching him, he wasn’t one for people at all, but Ivan felt different.
He felt the weight of Ivan’s arms around his shoulders, and the soft fabric brush against his skin.
His skin…
Ruwanda didn’t know how he had any feeling in his skin anymore. He’d gotten better at avoiding beatings for his actions but this time he wasn’t able to squeeze his way out of it. And it was a lot worse than ones he’s gotten in the past.
For someone that’s been beaten more times than he’s moved house, you’d think Ruwanda would build some sort of an immunity to them. Well, he was known for hiding his emotions well.
“I’m fine…” Ruwanda mumbled again, hoping Ivan would catch the hint. He didn’t, obviously, oblivious asshole.
If anything, Ivan held him closer. Ruwanda felt his throat tighten.
Ruwanda wasn’t known for stealing, that was Ivan’s job, but Ivan wasn’t feeling well and didn’t want to risk stealing from such a high security area. Ruwanda shouldn’t have been as confident in himself as he was.
Ivan really wanted the car set, and was practically begging the air for it. When Ruwa brought up how he could just take it, Ivan practically gave himself whiplash.
“That’s a horrible idea! Do you even know who owns that store? I’ll die before they even finish breaking my hands.”
Ruwanda figured, well, if Ivan really wanted it, but was too scared to get it himself then Ruwanda could just get it for him, and earn himself some blackmail material on the way.
Ruwanda winced as Ivan shifted them together.
He should’ve listened, probably.
Ruwanda felt the gash on his leg throb as Ivan tried to adjust their position. He barely felt like he could twist his body, let alone stand up or clean himself or treat his wounds. He felt sore all over, and his arm wouldn’t stop pounding. It felt like a world renowned bass drum player was having a party in his ears, or the ocean decided to set up camp in his skull.
“You’re a fuckin’ dumbass, Ruwa, settin’ yourself on the line like that, gettin’ an ass beatin’ on the way out.” Ruwanda could tell Ivan was trying to scold him but it wasn’t going as planned. As much of a shit talker that Ivan was, he wasn’t as good at reprimanding Ruwanda as he’d like to think he is.
Ivan laughed coldly. Ruwanda hated that laugh.
Sure, hearing other people suffer was great. He loved to see their expressions and their shock and their everything when he took someone from them, but Ivan always felt different. He liked seeing Ivan’s anger, but his pain felt different to Ruwanda. It was pretty in a way, but hurt his chest to see.
“Ivan…”
“Shut up.”
Who was the one with bruises?
Ivan took a shaky breath, “Why do you always pull shit like that,” He mumbled into Ruwanda’s shoulder.
Ruwanda tried to say something, but the words were stuck in his throat. The words were never stuck in his throat.
“You promised,” Ivan continued again, “that you’d try to keep yourself out of trouble this time.”
“I-”
“If you say another word, I’ll leave.” Ruwanda looked down into Ivan’s eyes. The usual glint he always had wasn’t there. Nothing was there.
He wasn’t drinking or holding money or grumbling about whatever their boss had decided for them or about how stupid Ruwanda was.
Well, he was talking about how stupid Ruwada was, but it wasn’t in the way that Ruwanda wanted him to.
The eyes felt empty, he was sat trying to stitch Ruwanda up again like a rag doll. He could hear the congestion and he could feel Ivan’s tired, heavy limbs.
“You should go to sleep, Ivan.”
“I tell you to shut up and you still don’t listen even with your throat bashed in. You’re lucky to be alive I just-” Ivan looked away and snapped his mouth shut before he could finish saying what he wanted. “You didn’t even get the stupid charm.”
That charm, being, one that looked identical to one that Ivan had lost years ago.
Ruwanda tried to stretch himself up to a higher height, but when he flexed his back he felt a sharp pain shoot through his spine and he ended up falling back.
“Ruwa!”
“I’m fine-”
“Stop!” Ivan pushed on Ruwanda’s chest. He could feel the tension on his heart and the pressure on his sternum. “Stop saying you’re okay or you’re fine or you’re used to it, just shut up!” Ivan looked like he was about to cry and Ruwanda didn’t really know what to think about that. “All you ever do is push me away, why won’t you just listen?”
Ruwanda looked towards the ceiling. He could feel Ivan staring daggers into Ruwanda, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at Ivan’s eyes. He didn’t want to see the hollow in them, he didn’t want to see himself in them.
It felt like ice was slowly climbing over his body, and he couldn’t tell if it was from the cuts and bruises or from his heart and Ivan’s cold.
Maybe he was finally dying.
“I mean- Fuck, Ruwa, please…” Ivan sat up properly then and turned his body on the bed, facing the wall rather than Ruwanda.
Ivan took another stuttering breath, “Why can’t you ever talk to me…” Ruwanda could hear the hitch in his voice and the strain as he tried to force words out of his tight throat. “I told you everything , Ruwa! And you can’t even trust me enough to tell me if you’re planning on getting your ass beat the next day or not.”
Ruwanda pursed his lips and squeezed his eyes. He hadn’t actually cried in ways that wasn’t an act in years and he wasn’t about to start now.
He felt the weight of the bed shift as Ivan got up.
“Stay here.”
Ruwanda never felt more empty to hear footsteps fading off and out of the room than he had now.
When he heard the soft click of the door, he knew Ivan was gone. He would come back, probably. Hopefully.
Ruwanda didn’t want to open up. Every time he had he was stuck with another body or another beating. He knew Ivan was different but he just couldn’t bring himself to even look at him anymore, let alone talk with him. Ivan left this hole in his heart, this weight and a tightness unlike excitement or sadness. It wasn’t exactly anxiety but Ruwanda hated it.
He felt like his chest was twisted in knots and like he couldn’t take a full breath whenever he thought about Ivan.
Ruwanda felt his throat tighten to a point where it hurt, it was an intense pressure and it felt like his muscles were about to mold themselves together with pure force alone.
It was unlike the pressure littering the rest of his body, unlike the full body ache that seemed to shadow him after every beating.
He didn’t want to cry. He wasn’t going to cry. This wasn’t an act and he wasn’t trying to fool anyone, why did he want to cry. There was pressure behind his eyes, as if he was tired but it felt entirely different. It felt like his eyes themselves were about to burst open.
He tentatively brought a weak fist up to his right eye, the unbruised one, and tried to rub it slightly.
It was in his chest now, it made it hard to breath. His lungs were constricted and it felt like his rib cage was closing in on his body, doing the opposite to protect his sensitive organs and creating an iron cage around his heart.
He let out a genuine sob for what felt like the first time in centuries.