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Summary
Till visited the garden each time he came to the Outpost. Ivan was buried with doting hands, tucked in serenity and realness. It should've been enough. Till stared at the red, violently sprouting amongst the gentle colours. He remembered placing the flower crown on his head, a delicate gesture met with brutality. Would he even want this? The thought simmered with an onslaught of nausea. The wind bristled against his agitated skin. He was reminded, once again, of how little he understood him.
Till’s fingers dug into his chest, nails pierced despite the fabric. The gaping hole in his heart remained. Closure promised to him never came. How could it? Ivan died feeling unloved and unwanted. There was no rest for him, nor did the subject of his torment deserve it.
Or
Takes place 8 years after the Alien Stage was blown up. Till has found some semblance of peace with the rebels. It doesn't last long. Ivan might be alive, forcing Till to confront the pain again.
Heavy angst ✿ Slow burn like molasses ✿ Post Karma