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“You’re pretty.”
Till freezes. He’s been called many things, but he’s never been called pretty. At least not genuinely. The blood pumping from his chest seemed to stop as he turned his head towards Ivan. His eyes were wide as he stared into him, unwavering and without a blink. It seems like his body functions stopped, he’s not even able to form a thought after one single compliment. With the way it slipped so easily from Ivan’s lips, it made Till unsure if he was even genuine. If anything, Till suddenly felt unsafe. Like that word meant harm, like that word was meant to hurt him. He clenches his fist as he forces out a chuckle to make the situation less awkward.
“You don’t mean that.” Till turns away, avoiding his gaze. He doesn’t want to know if Ivan’s eyes meant to say the truth or lie to him.
“I do mean that.” Ivan responds too quickly before Till can catch his breath. He hates how he could sense the same kind of sternness Ivan does to himself. It was the same tone when Ivan tries to convince himself that he’s flawed. “You are pretty, Till.”
Till scoffs, having enough of that word. He whips his head as his eyebrows furrowed, clearly frustrated just by a simple adjective. “What do you want?”
Ivan pauses, his face distorts to confusion. “What?”
“Just tell me what you want,” Till steps closer, gaining back the confidence from Ivan’s confused expression. “So you won’t have to call me that again.”
Ivan’s eyes shifted only a second before going back to those deep, black color Till hated. He hates how he’s unable to read whatever he’s thinking of. Did Till catch him off guard? Did he really mean harm by that word? The silence that followed made Till understood. He scoffs while he turns his gaze away, trying to ignore the deep sinking feeling he feels from his chest to his torso. Of course Ivan meant nothing by that. Pretty wasn’t a word he’d chosen to describe himself after all. If anything, the word would be-
“I want you, Till.”
Unloved.
Ivan grabs his arm before he can walk away. His gaze still unwavering as the still sea as he says those words loud and clear. Till’s breath hitches, clearly taken aback by the sudden turn of events. He's way too deep. Till needed to go away as soon as possible from him.
He squirms. “Let me go-”
Ivan grabs both of his arms, then. “I want you and I think you’re pretty,” Ivan says again, Till’s chest sinking deeper when he realizes Ivan says it louder this time. “I want and love you not only because you’re pretty, though. I love you because you’re Till. You’re you.”
“Let go of me!” Till could feel his eyes water for some reason as he pulls his arms hard enough for Ivan to stumble closer to him.
Ivan falters but stands back on his ground, this time closer to Till’s face. Till could feel his gaze fixating on him, from his eyes, down to his lips. He pushes Ivan away harshly, making him fall on his back. Ivan clearly has a bigger physique than Till, but when he pushes Ivan, he could feel how weak his limbs were. Like he was letting his guard down around Till. Like he trusted Till that he would never hurt him.
Ivan groans but sits up anyway, his gaze still unwavering. It scares Till. How could he still look at him like that after all that he’s done. Ivan quickly gets up to his feet as he marches again to Till. The other man swallows hard and can’t help but shouts,
“What do you want from me?!” The tears that have been welling on his eyes are all over his face now, and he doesn’t care. He just wants this nagging and uncomfortable feeling from Ivan’s words away.
“I want you!” Ivan shouts back, he grabs Till’s arm again, and this time, Till doesn’t resist. He feels weak from the touch. “I want you.. And I love you.. It feels like needing you is an understatement.”
Till tries to respond from all the tears choking him, hating how he felt weak from the words and touch. He tries to pull away but to no avail, he could only punch Ivan softly on the chest, now outwardly sobbing. He felt pathetic and small, all just from a simple compliment. After seeing how Till has little to no energy to resist him, he quickly pulls Till in and hugs him tightly. All while patting Till’s head softly. He lets Till sob on his shirt, not minding how he felt Till’s tears or his stuttering breath.
After what felt like a while, Till lifts his head up to look into Ivan’s eyes. This time, he searches for that unwavering gaze, and felt relief in his chest when he still found it.
“Do you.. really think I’m pretty?”
Ivan smiles and lays a gentle kiss on his forehead.
“The prettiest.”