Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

When one of them was sinking, the other pulled him up.

That's how it used to be.

Then Ivan went under.

Lovro reached for him.

Ivan tried to hold on to his hand.

And Lovro let go.

Lovro looked up and his eyes immediately fell on the pictures taped on his wardrobe. He sighed loudly, letting his head fall back down on his bed.

Ivan was on nearly all of them.

Lovro smiling dumbly with Jakov and Ivan’s faces pressed against each of his cheeks. Lovro and Ivan posing with Eva at Ema’s first photography exhibition. Them with all their friends on vacation in the mountains...

The only picture where he was missing was one of Lovro and his mom posing on the Dragon Bridge in Ljubljana, two years ago. Even then, Ivan had been the one behind the camera.

There were a couple of pictures he knew he shouldn’t look too much at.

Ivan giving him a piggyback ride, back during the same mountain trip. A photoboot strip where they were kissing on every shot. The picture his mom took of them at graduation, where they had been holding hands in front of their entire high school.

There was also the one picture sitting inside of his wardrobe, hidden behind the big winter jacket.

The little polaroid someone handed them in the street, on their first couple trip in Venice. Ivan’d had to pay the guy 10€ in the end, but it would still have been a happy memory if they hadn’t broken up three weeks later.

It'd stayed on his bedside table for a long time, before Lovro finally got tired of staring at their easy smiles and at Ivan’s arm around him.

With another sigh, Lovro got up and picked up his jeans from where he’d left them on the ground. He took a new sweat, careful not to topple the whole stack.

He left home in a hurry, only just catching the last bus that would take him to the faculty on time.

As he sat down, he let his gaze wander over those streets he knew every corner of. The familiar landscape faded soon, and Lovro felt his eyelids grow heavy. Lulled by the bus motion, his mind slipped away for a few minutes.

He nearly jumped when he heard the recorded announcement call out the train station.

He’d missed his stop.

He wearily took out his phone to text Joško.

Lovro didn’t follow Joško’s advice.

As soon as he reached the faculty building, he went to get a coffee from the vending machine. He headed out of the facility a few minutes later, already done for the day. His next lecture wasn’t that important.

Lunch with the others was still hours away. He could wait at home. Get a few hours of sleep and come back when they would be done with their classes too. But that also meant facing his mom’s accusations.

Lovro decided to walk around the city instead. Days were getting longer, and the sun was already high in the sky despite the early hour. Spring would be there soon.

He wandered the morning streets. One by one, the shops were rolling up their shutters, and shopkeepers were hustling to set up their displays for the day. Lovro wove through it all, hands in his pockets, trying to hold back from lighting a cigarette just yet.

He paused mid-step as he was about to cross another street.

A car had stopped to let him pass.

He recognized it instantly and shot a glance at the driver.

Apparently, blonde hair and a new jacket make a totally different human of you, because Ivan’s father was looking straight at him, not an ounce of recognition on his face.

Lovro hurried across. He let out a sigh of relief as the car pulled away behind him.

He hadn’t seen this man in years.

552 days, if the counter on his lockscreen was to be trusted.

Suddenly, every possible street seemed too cluttered.

Filled of memories including that one person.

There weren’t many spots he usually avoided: their old park, Ivan’s neighbourhood, the chicken place they’d gone to every day during their first year of uni. It wasn’t that the other places weren’t haunted by their own memories. It was just that in a city like Zagreb, you quickly run out of hangouts if you start dodging too many places.

But today, Ivan was everywhere.

He was in this park, where Lovro had tripped once and he couldn’t stop laughing. In the street just across, where they’d tried Indian food for the first time.

Lovro turned a corner so that he wouldn’t walk pass the cinema where they used to go together. They’d got used to take separate pop corns, after that one time Ivan got mad at him for finishing their bag before the movie even started.

Lovro wandered aimlessly, going in circles, trapped with nowhere left to go.

The windows reflected the harsh morning sun, blinding him each time he turned his head. People were already talking too loudly, and the roar of the engines vibrated in every one of his bones. His limbs clenched.

Lovro kept walking, moving one foot in front of the other.

The noises drowned together, leaving nothing but a dull ringing pressing against his eardrums.

He looked up at some point, and he was back to the train station.

He had been here hundredths of times since the breakup, always passing by in a blur.

But today, his gaze went straight to that tram shelter stop. The one with shattered glass panels that hadn’t been replaced yet.

Lovro stilled, unable to tear his eyes away from that metal bench.

He remembered sitting there. Cold, despite the lingering August heat.

He’d waited, for several hours, or maybe just long minutes, tasting the salt of his tears.

Jakov had finally come to pick him up. He was there as soon as Lovro called, not understanding anything of what had just happened.

Lovro sat down on the bench.

He leaned back against the broken panel as the memories of that day came flooding back.

Lovro’s screams. Ivan’s disdainful gaze.

His words.

“What now? You’re gonna leave me as soon as it starts getting difficult?”

Lovro scoffing. “Ivan…”

“You knew exactly what you were getting into.”

He had waited for him to take it back.

“Okay,” he’d said, gathering his things. He’d looked up one last time, only finding that same dismissive mask. Turning his back, he took the stairs and slammed the door behind him.

He remembered the crunch of the gravel as he retreated down Ivan’s driveway. The sound of a suffocating guilt settling in his stomach, weighing him down with every step.

He never walked the path back.

He'd thought they’d found a way to make it work.

When Ivan stopped sleeping, during their trip to Italy, Lovro immediately understood what was happening. He didn’t listen to Ivan saying he was only excited for their first time travelling, just the two of them. He made him call his doctor. She adjusted his medication.

Lovro thought it would be ok.

After they came back, Ivan started to spend his nights scribbling away this fully formed movie script that had suddenly lodged itself in his head. He had it all written on his brains, he kept saying, while rambling about the convoluted plot. It didn’t make any sense, but Lovro still tried to listen.

He managed not to panic when Ivan showed him the expensive movie camera he’d bought online.

He tried to keep his calm, even when he heard him describing the sex scene he’d envisioned for Lovro to his friends. He would have explained it to his mom too, if Lovro hadn’t heard it coming and dragged Ivan back to his room, under Ana’s confused stare.

The doctors said the episode wouldn’t last as long with the meds. That it wouldn’t go as far.

Lovro had seen how scary mania could be. He was ready to stay with him no matter what, to keep loving him the same way through it all.

But when it all came crashing down and Ivan looked like he wanted to take everyone with him, Lovro wasn’t brave enough to be the one keeping his head above water.

He’d stayed at Jakov’s place for a few days, hiding out between his room and the balcony. Jakov let him be at first. Lovro needed time. But as the days went by, Jakov started to push him to go find Ivan, insisting that they needed to talk.

But Lovro couldn’t move.

What was there to say anyway? How had he been dumb enough to think he could do it?

So, he waited.

Eva kept saying Ivan would come running back to him as soon as he’d feel better.

Lovro hoped she was right.

And when six days later, it finally hit him: what he had done and what that could mean, Lovro was met with a deleted profile and his number blocked.

What had he done?

How could this happen so fast?

Jakov came with him to Ivan’s house, they knocked on every door and every window, but no one ever answered. Ivan didn’t want to see him anymore.

The moments that shape your life happen without you even noticing them.

He had seen Ivan’s face for the last time without looking at it twice.

Would he have looked back if he’d known?

Would he have searched a bit longer for hints of life behind that blank mask?

He didn’t even remember their last kiss.

Lovro rewrote that day thousands of times in his dreams.

He’s walking down the alleyway. His eyes are blurry and his heart feels heavy.

He’s about to reach the road when he hears the gravel crack behind him, and before he can peek over his shoulder, two strong arms come circle him, holding him back.

Usually, Lovro adds some rain at some point; it always rains by Ivan’s place.

Either way, Lovro always brings Ivan closer, breathing him in. Telling him how much he missed him.

Lovro barely noticed it when he got up and started walking again.

This time, he went straight to those places he’d stopped to go. Passing by their park, he didn’t slow down. He walked up the streets leading to Ivan’s neighbourhood, not giving himself time to change his mind.

He’d spent months alternating between saying everyone that he was fine and not being able to talk about anything else.

Dying his hair a new colour every month and finally doing the green dye Ivan had been asking for months, just out of spite. He took many pictures of that one, posting each on his socials and hoping that he was behind one of those unknown profiles that kept seeing his stories. In these pictures, he tried to smile extra-large and stood closer to Jakov, just because he knew that his past crush on his best friend had never sat completely right with Ivan.

He wanted to be mad at him.

How could he let him go? How could he let him take this decision alone without even putting a fight? His episode didn’t go on for years, right? He could have reached up. If only to give him his things back, like he’d done with that sweater a few years back. Why wouldn’t he do something like that now? How could he block him?

Why hadn’t he held him back?

He needed to be mad.

He needed to stop thinking about him. He’d lost so much time already, and Ivan wasn’t here anyway.

He wanted to forget. He wanted him to leave his thoughts, but the more he thought about it and the less he forgot.

So, he tried to be mad. He tried to hate him.

That’s all Ivan deserved, how could he leave him?

Lovro checked his phone. 11:13. No notifications.

A silent phone used to be a warning sign. His days used to be suspended on a “Good morning” text. There was nothing to worry about now.

Lovro froze again, stopping dead in his track.

His eyes had locked onto a familiar silhouette, just a little ahead on the pavement. The height, the posture. The limp that seemed to have grown stronger in the past months. He was right there.

Lovro’s heart skipped a beat.

He stared. It’s only then that he noticed the intertwined fingers. Lovro felt his chest tightening.

Ivan was holding hands with some girl.

Lovro was about to be sick.

For months, he’d joked around with Eva, wondering what would be worse: being replaced by another guy or by a girl.

The thought of Ivan with another guy seemed worse. Imagining him drawing him, joining his friends’ group. Would he choose another skater boy who likes to be kissed behind the ear?

Lovro wasn’t Ivan’s first boyfriend, he already knew that. But to be forgotten this fast, to be only an ex-boyfriend among others…

Turns out seeing him with a girl wasn’t much better.

They fit together perfectly; his strong frame next to her small body. Lovro watched him lean in to whisper something in her ear, making her burst into giggles. They looked like any couple. He could only imagine them kissing while waiting for the bus, thanking old ladies who stop to tell them what a cute couple they make.

He bet they wouldn’t be put in a twin room if they ever went to Venice together.

Lovro wondered if Ivan’s parents had felt relieved for him to find a girlfriend again. They would never admit so, and they had always been nice to him, but Lovro could only imagine how much more at ease life would be for his mom if he could end up truly happy with a girl.

And Ivan? Was he happy? Delighted to be with someone he could finally start a family with? Three or four kids, just like his childhood dream. Lovro knew he hadn’t meant any harm when he had confessed that to him, failing to understand why it had sparked such a fight. This was the life Lovro could never give him.

None of it mattered anymore.

Lovro had given up on that a while ago.

It was only his fault that Ivan ended up with someone else.

He looked again. He stared at Ivan’s back, daring him to glance back.

Lovro wondered if he’d feel better if he managed to make that girl let out of Ivan’s hand, if only for a few seconds. He thought about causing a scene, just there. Had Ivan only told her about him? Did she even know he used to make love to a guy before?

And maybe he would have done it. Maybe he’d have walked up to them, tap Ivan’s shoulder and cause a wreck in his life once again. It wouldn’t be the first time Lovro caused the end of one of Ivan’s relationships. He could have done it once more. He couldn't let Ivan move on, while he was just there, pretending to believe he could do the same one day.

But right when he was about to make that decision, Lovro noticed the football shirt.

Ivan never wore football shirts; he was far too snobby for that.

And really, Ivan could just have taken up football now, met new friends, and found a new obsession. But Lovro’s vision was clear now. The hair was too long, the shoulders too narrow. Lovro looked closer, and he realized the guy was limping on the wrong leg. It wasn’t Ivan.

The couple turned a corner and Lovro found his breath again.

His phone buzzed in his jeans pocket. Eva was already waiting for him at their usual sandwich spot, probably having skipped her last lecture too. Lovro zipped up his jacket and turned on his heels, heading back down the hills.

It wasn’t even 12 when Lovro joined Eva at their usual table, outside of the cheapest sandwich place with vegetarian options of the centre. They had been coming here almost every day since the boys’ second year of university. The place was central, easy to get to from any faculty, and the owners always let them rearrange the plastic furniture out front.

“Mario and the girls aren’t coming,” Eva announced as Lovro took the chair opposing hers. “Should we wait for Jakov?”

Jakov had made them promise once that they would stop eating without him. Eva and Lovro often cut classes before lunch, something with not being able to listen when they were hungry anyway. But Jakov wouldn’t miss philosophy for nothing, and he ultimately grew bored of eating alone every day.

Eva still ordered an ice cream, deciding that dessert didn’t count as food. She was already eating it with passion.

“I’m saying,” she said while mixing up the content of her cup under Lovro’s disgusted gaze, “you’ve lost enough time on this loser.”

He’d already told her everything about his morning adventures, not sparing her the suspense before revealing that football shirt guy wasn’t Ivan in the end.

“Hey!” Lovro protested, “You always said you loved him.”

“I did like him,” she conceded, agitating her spoon in the air. “But that was before he went to ghost you. Now I think he’s a loser.” She pulled an exaggerated disgusted expression. “How can he hurt a puppy like you.”

Lovro smiled, shaking his head. “I’m not a puppy.”

She squinted at him, looking him up and down. “A kitten.”

“Aha.”

Eva took another spoonful of her stirred-up ice cream as Lovro shivered. It was way too cold to be eating ice cream outside. Her face suddenly lit up with excitement.

“Well, this soon won’t matter anyway! How are things going with Joško?” She wiggled her eyebrows at him, looking way too pleased with herself.

Lovro huffed. “Stop it.”

“Come on! Don’t tell me you didn’t notice he wants you.”

“I don’t know that.”

“You do,” she stated, unfazed. “I don’t understand you. He’s smart, hot, super sweet. He’s actually emotionally intelligent, out to his parents.” She was enumerating on her fingers, making a point when she switched to her second hand. “And he seems to believe you’re funny since he keeps laughing to your stupid jokes.”

She waited for Lovro to react, but he barely blinked, ignoring her comment.

“You deserve someone like him, Lovro.”

And maybe, maybe she was right.

Maybe Lovro had been stuck dwelling on Ivan, convinced he’d never meet someone like him again.

Maybe he was wrong to look for someone just like him. Maybe he could do better than that. Find someone who enjoyed going out with him, and who would actually have an answer when asked about their favourite anime character. Someone who would laugh even at his worst jokes. Someone who could admit their wrongs without falling into self-loathing.

Someone with whom he could stay on solid ground, rather than constantly dancing through storms and rough seas.

“He’s not as hot as him.”

Eva let out a laugh, giving a slight eyeroll. “Duh, no one is as hot as Ivan.” She stopped for a beat, then gave him a cheeky smile. “Except Jakov, obviously.”

It was Lovro’s turn to roll his eyes. “You’re lying and you know it.” There was a small sting in his throat, just like every time he had to talk about him, but Lovro focused on Eva’s sly grin instead.

“Should I go tell Jakov that you said that?” she threatened teasingly.

“Go ahead. He won’t mind.”

“You’re wrong, I’m sure he’d be devastated.”

“To lose the hotness contest to my literal ex-boyfriend?” Lovro asked, unimpressed.

“Ex is the important word here,” Eva pointed out. “You should find him ugly and stinky by now.”

She made it sound easy. As if Lovro hadn’t spent months and years thinking of Ivan as the most handsome person in the world, and the single most beautiful thing that ever happened to him.

Why was he like that? Why couldn’t he be like normal people, whose rose-colored glasses immediately shatter once it’s over? Surely Ivan had no problem seeing his ugly sides. Even when they were together, he would tease him for his disgusting room or for the way he blew his nose in the morning. He once called it “gross but oddly endearing”. Lovro bet he stopped at gross now.

Was that what he needed to move on?

Should he start collecting all those little things that used to sour him?

“Jakov wouldn’t expect me to think like that.”

Eva scoffed. “Only because he had a crush on the guy almost as big as yours.”

Lovro choked out a laugh.

“Tell me I’m wrong,” she said, shooting him a defiant look, her eyes glistening.

Jakov joined them long after Eva had finished her ice cream. She and Lovro had decided to start their sandwiches without him in the end. When he was done whining about it, he made it clear that he was, indeed, crushed to only rank second in Lovro’s hotness ranking.

He didn’t comment on Ivan.

Lovro lit a cigarette. He didn't take the bus back home. They’d taken their time, stretching out their lunch break, and it was already getting late. The bus would be packed and stuck in traffic on the bridge as always. Lovro was better off walking and smoking instead.

His thoughts wandered back to Eva’s words.

He ghosted you.

She wasn’t the only one to say it. Mario, Vito, Nora… they all had used that word before.

It wasn’t that simple. He was the one who had left Ivan.

But in the end, that’s what happened, right?

Lovro wrote the last word, but it’s Ivan who tore up all the remaining pages.

Lovro rolled the filter between his fingers and threw it in the closest bin. He lit up a new one right away.

He didn't want to think like that.

He knew Ivan wouldn’t be able to walk after him.

And still, he walked away.

He’d even let out a long breath.

As if things might become easier after.

His chest tightened in a way that feels familiar. He’d learned to breathe around the pain. He took another drag, forcing the smoke into his lungs. This time, he didn’t stop his thoughts.

Maybe, maybe, Ivan did the one thing Lovro wasn’t brave enough to do.

Maybe he just saw what Lovro took years to accept.

Maybe they were just too different.

Maybe he also needed someone different.

Someone a bit more like him.

Maybe the question wasn’t about who made a mistake or how things could have ended differently.

Things were always going to end that way between them.

Lovro let the smoke drift slowly out of his mouth.

Somehow, it didn’t hurt as much as it should have.