Broken Glass

Chapter 3: Half A Man - Dean Lewis

Ruv watched as his children hurried off to their room and out of view, letting out a small sigh once he heard the door click close. He picked up one of his many knives which lay scattered about the wooden table, inspecting its stainless steel. The blade was pristinely cut despite its usage countless times before, its handle still firmly intact, and the carved design barely worn down. It was nearly flawless, evident proof that he had taken great care in its keeping.

Unlike he and Sarvente's relationship.

He turned the blade, angling it so he could look through the reflective metal and silently view himself. His blank expression stared out, gaze empty and unreadable, even to himself.
Leaning his elbows and forearm on the table, he slouched forward with another sigh. Eyelids falling slightly, he turned his line of sight downwards and at the wooden counter he was seated at. As much as he hated it, Selever might have had a point for once, his mind replaying the teenager's words. Had he really been as selfish as his son said?

He started thinking back to the recent days and their most notable parts. An argument between him and Sarvente, him leaving the church and temporarily running from his problems, then coming back home to rest and repeating it the next day.

It was rinse and repeat, a constant loop with seemingly no end in sight. One of pain and emotional damage, something Ruv never thought he'd see again after his confession and marriage.

What was happening to them..

He swore under his breath, leaning back in the chair he no longer found himself comfortable in. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't change the subject. His train of thought was indefinitely stuck on it. He couldn't run from his issues this time.

Ruv glanced at his surroundings, the once pastel shades of paint upon the walls now appearing dull. Granted, everything was less lively when Sarvente wasn't there, but this was different. The place was nearly lifeless, continuing to break at an alarming pace. It wouldn't be long until they reached the point of no return, assuming that hadn't already passed him by.

"Блять, I love that woman." Ruv muttered to himself, speaking with a breathy and muted tone. Although he had been clearly failing to express it, he couldn't deny the passion he had for the one he had viewed as his angel. His savior.

But the concept of love is a complicated thing. It can easily fall off and go rogue right before one's eyes, or it could be false from the very start.

Ruvyzvat had to strain himself to try and convince himself that neither of those possibilities were reality. They couldn't be.. He wouldn't let them be.

The Russian's mind was almost always clouded with doubt, he didn't deserve any of this life he had been given. Even after being told otherwise countless times before, he could never completely believe it. Comparing himself to Sarvente, he was of little worth. At least that's what he told himself.

He'd never dare to speak on it, though. Perhaps that was why he was foolish when it came to his emotions.

Time seemed like it was speeding by as he continued trying to find himself within his thoughts, it feeling like it had been hours when it had to have been only a few minutes. That absence of self confidence was clearly taking its toll. After all, it's hard to love someone else when you can barely love yourself.

Always putting himself down while others tried building him up, always haunted by self doubt when around those he cared dearly for, always keeping himself locked up and refraining from speaking about his struggles and desires. Were the years of lacking social contact finally catching up with him again?

Abruptly, Ruv was sent out of his thoughts by a sudden break in the silence. It was the subtle creaking of a door being opened. Mind not yet registering which direction the sound had come from, his hopes rose at the chance of it being Sarvente returning. She had been out for quite some time now.