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Black Sorrow

"With our story. . ."

Lightning cracks across the sky, splitting the universe and spilling freshwater tears on her Earth, acidic in its sadness.

Wretched screams and bellows, monstrous shouts and war cries, ugly teeth snarled in grins and thorns weaved into twisted crowns. Blood curdling frights, tears black as night, glistening saliva dripping from hungry mouths.

Banshees, blood suckers, whip wielders, hammer holders, gun pointers, needle injectors, hand breaking, bone snapping, scream inducing, all surrounding, all encompassing, all suffocating.

None of it can even shine a light to it.

Everything—every last fucking thing—pales in comparison.

"Lost in Forever's embrace. . ."

There's a dull thump through the pouring rain and another clang of thunder shakes the stadium, momentarily drowning out the hideous crowd before him.

He doesn't notice Ivan next to him until it's too late.

Till looks up at him, eyesight blurry and unfocused.

Ivan doesn't have long, pink hair. Doesn't have round, gentle features and soft curves.

No.

Ivan is tall, and strong, with straight black hair and harsh obsidian eyes with that small ruby speck in the center. He certainly isn't the woman he loves and yet— Till can't stop himself from hoping.

Till doesn't even have the chance to meet Ivan's eyes before there's a hand cupping his cheek. Till's eyes widen and he doesn't know what he's going to do but he's too slow.

Ivan pulls him forward aggressively, his hand cuffed around Till's neck, a slight pressure that feels like it weighs a million tons.

Till gets a singular glance at Ivan's eyes. They're full of— a glint of something sharp and red, something that Till doesn't know the name of, biting and burning in those blackened irises.

But that's all he's allowed access to, all he's allowed to see. What happens after is now carved deeply into his mind, engraved in his heart, his lungs working tirelessly inside his ribcage.

Ivan rips Till closer, a hand tangling in his damp hair, and presses their lips together in a searing kiss.

Everything suddenly goes silent.

His lips burn against Till's as he kisses him once, long and hard, before turning his head, burying himself deeper in Till like he's desperate for air that only Till can provide him.

Till's so shocked he can't even move, eyes blown wide as he tries to process what's happening. Sound has ceased to enter his ears and his eyes reject the picture before him so strongly that even his brain is tricked.

This. . . this can't be. . .

Ivan. . . ?

The rain is coming down in sheets all around them, lightning dancing with the clouds as thunder plays her song, gracing the Earth from its dry spell.

Till attempts a breath when Ivan retreats but the black-haired boy is quick to kiss him again, harder if that's even possible, and Till fights his way through the haze, the fog, and tries to find it in himself to push Ivan away.

But Ivan's taller and impossibly stronger than Till— he always has been— and with one hand cradling and the back of his head and the other locked tightly around his waist, Till has nowhere to run. A rabbit trapped in a tiger's domain.