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Ivan wasn’t proud of himself for hiding out in the basketball court during his breaks to avoid Lovro. Still, it was the least he could do: if he made himself scarce, maybe Lovro would be spared from remembering how badly Ivan fucked everything up.
The court was always blissfully empty at that time, and Ivan was eager to hide among its silence and play by himself.
That relief only lasted a moment when he reached the court today.
The laugh reached him first.
Lovro’s voice was next.
“Shut up, you suck at this,” he almost yelled.
“Fuck off, I was the one who taught you how to play!” Jakov yelled back, a bright smile plastered on his face as he threw the basketball and missed his target terribly.
Lovro only laughed harder, uncaring of how he sounded or looked. He never laughed like that around Ivan.
No. During every moment they stole away together, Lovro was on edge, terrified of both what others saw and what Ivan himself thought.
But he was careless with Jakov.
He was silly, loud, happy.
Ivan hated himself for the bitter taste that conclusion left in his mouth.
Somehow, in the time it took Ivan to process the scene he was watching, hidden behind the gym doors, Jakov had run towards Lovro and dragged him onto the floor, where they were now fake wrestling.
“I should’ve gotten that shit on camera,” Lovro said, laughing so hard he had tears running down his face.
Jakov gave up on the wrestling and just lay by Lovro’s side in the middle of the court.
“Don’t you fucking dare,” he replied, out of breath. “I have another twenty pictures of you with blue hair.”
Love kicked his leg, smiling more shyly now. “Stop bringing it up, for fuck’s sake.”
That was the type of smile Ivan did know. It was fleeting, unsure, and discreet—like their time together.
Jakov pulled his phone out of his pocket, scrolling until he found what he was looking for. Ivan couldn’t see anything from his hiding spot, but he knew it was probably a picture of Love with said blue hair.
Ivan longed to walk in. He wanted to see the photos and compliment Lovro until he smiled softly at him again, blushing all over. He wanted Jakov to not feel like a threat. He wanted the hand Jakov had on Lovro’s shoulder as they talked on the floor not to look like a brand.
Instead, he pathetically watched as Lovro and Jakov went through the pictures of a lifetime of knowing each other, their heads hanging close together, their laughs intertwined to the point he couldn’t distinguish which sound was coming from whom.
Instead of taking what he wanted, he turned around and left at that very moment with the heavy feeling of failure burning through his soul.