Ex's to Lovers

Chapter 22

Which Alfred Isn't A Scumbag And Doesn't Read Ivan's Secrets

Alfred quickly went to work on his goal- moving all of Ivan's stuff about an inch to the left. Ivan's room was somehow both simultaneously messier and cleaner than what Alfred had expected. Everything on the dresser and the desk was neatly placed in exact positions, but the bed was still unmade and there was still a pile of unfolded clothes on the floor, waiting to be put away, and a few stray socks, and an empty bowl and spoon with the last dregs of soup in it on the desk. Somehow it made Ivan seem more like a real person and less like the heartless asshole Alfred wanted to picture him as, and it made him uncomfortable.

Instead he focused on moving everything slightly to the left, even going so far as to press some tacks into the wall to help him shift the full length wall mirror over, using some white-out from Ivan's desk to paint over the one exposed nail in the hopes of hiding it from Ivan a little longer. Arthur had always said Alfred was careless and reckless, but Mathew had often challenged that, because he knew from personal experience how meticulous Alfred could be if he wanted to be. After all, the reason Alfred knew this prank worked was because he'd used it against Mathew before. It was with this incredible meticulousness that Alfred used to move everything, even the socks carelessly thrown on the floor, an inch over in the exact same position.

Moving the desk, dresser and bed was harder, since he had to do so without Natalya noticing, but, though it was painstaking, he'd managed it. Once Alfred was certain that everything was properly shifted, he looked around the room for something to do. Ivan would never trust that Alfred hadnt don't something to his room. He'd been searching the desk for a dry-erase marker to draw a mustache at about what he thought was Ivan-face height on the mirror, when he saw the book. It was a simple black book with a ribbon bookmark and gold lettering, but his eyes focused on it because of the single word written there. 

Diary, the cover proclaimed. Alfred froze. All Ivan's secrets, all his weaknesses, blackmail material, it was probably all in this book. It wouldn't be hard to secretly read it and find out everything and more. But Alfred wasn't that type of person. He knew where Mathew kept his diary too, his brother didn't hide anything, and he easily could have read it, but he wouldn't. Because Mathew had trusted him not to, and though he could be dumb sometimes, Alfred wanted to be the person his brothers thought he was. More importantly, he didn't want to be the type of scumbag who reads someone else's diary. 

So instead, Alfred settled for a white-out mustache and monacle on the mirror, not finding a dry erase marker, then hurriedly excused himself from Ivan's room, feeling like it'd be better not to be caught there when Ivan returned. Natalya looked up sharply when he hesitantly entered the kitchen, and Alfred hurriedly gave an excuse.

"It doesn't feel right to stay in his room without him bein' around. Is it okay if I stay down here?"

Natalya's cool stare made him shiver, but he tried his best not to look scared. After a moment, Natalya nodded, and gestured to a chair silently, and Alfred hurriedly obeyed and sat down. He'd thought Ivan's sister would have gone back to her homework, but instead, Natalya stared at him thoughtfully before making a blunt statement.