Chapter Text
The last thing Till sees before sighing his last breath is Mizi’s crying face. He can literally feels the wetness on his cheek, letting him know how much Mizi is hurt by his death. The only thing he could try to mutter out with his lips, are “I’m sorry.”
He has so many regrets in his life, things he wished he'd done better. But has disappeared along with half of him when Mizi went missing and Ivan left him in this cruel world and forced him to stand alone on top of the stage, with the feeling of the whole world wishing for his doom. But maybe it was the remaining sparks that lit up in his heart when Mizi bought hope in him, that he wished to no one he even knows, for a second chance to fix everything. To die in the place he didn't hate, and not as something he would do anything to not be.
And so his prayers are answered.
“Why are you stopping?”
His vision blurred, his eyes snapped open, only to for him to shut them tight again after the hardness of light attacked it. He let out a groan, he wanted to rub his eyes, feeling it letting out tears, but he’s holding something tight.
“Till? What’s wrong?”
He knows that voice.
“We need to hurry, we’ll get caught.” He finally opens his eyes once again, ignoring the stinging light, he forces himself to keep them open, even if it hurts. There, standing in front of him, is Ivan– or at least, Ivan from years ago, Ivan when his smiles feels real, Ivan when his eyes shines with lights and are locked on him, Ivan when Till doesn’t need to look because he’s always there, Ivan before he–
“Ivan!?” His voice came out louder than he intended, making the said boy startled. “Don’t yell, you idiot! You scared me.”
Till could feel his mind spiraling in confusion. He was sure he died, the bullet that went straight into his throat feels as real as it could be. But right now there’s no pain in his neck, and nor is his voice sounds as hoarse as it should be.
Till learned that keeping his emotions all bottled up and keeping himself quiet is better for himself. But he was never obedient like Ivan was, he’ll kick and scream until he lost his voice and their hit felt numb on his skin. Even when everything is hurting him, instead of wanting it to stop, he wants more of the pain. Until he forget every single needle sticking in his heart.
But right now with Ivan's hand in, and without worries of pain coming after he voices out in what's on his mind, he lets a question slipped through his lips, “What’s happening?”
Ivan creates a deadpan expression, he stays quiet for a minute, waiting for Till to say he’s joking or something, the boy has always been patient. The time was enough for Till to piece the puzzles together. He remembered things Ivan mentioned years ago, something about 7 minutes of your best memories in life playing in your head before your brain completely shuts off.
Till tightened his grip on Ivan’s hand
But that couldn’t be it, could it? After all, this memory is one Till wished to forget. The guilt that was eating him away when he heard Ivan’s footsteps behind him as they made their way back into the cage that’ll forever lock them away from the world. One that Ivan would be free of if only Till didn't decide to be an idiot and lock himself back in the place he always wished to be free.
He didn’t even see Ivan’s expression that day, never wished to, he’ll look up into the fake sky for hours if it means he doesn’t need to see what expression Ivan has on his face. He knew Ivan was not one to show his emotion, or maybe he didn't feel anything in the first place, but the thought of finding genuine anger or sadness, swimming in the black abyss of Ivan's eyes, made him feel genuine fear, emotion he thought he'll never feel for Ivan.
They never talked about that day on the following days, it only made Till more nervous. He wished the boy would annoy him about it like he always does. And then Ivan began to take his classes, something about image-making that make him smiles for hours in front of the others, then the Ivan that everyone loves is all that remains.
Till wondered if any of the smiles he gave out was even genuine at all.
“Let's go.” He finally said, Ivan’s eyes widened, his pupils dilating, showing red as if he expected Till to say something else.
But still, Ivan nods. Their hands are locked tight. Till doesn't even realize how tight his hand is holding into Ivan, as if the boy would slip away from his hand the moment he lets go.
With that, they finally set themselves free.