Drawings and Secrets / RusAme Highschool AU

Chapter 1 - Alfred

The thing I love most about him are his eyes.

The color is magical, a mixture of different shades of violet and just a tint of indigo. They're like a painting, drawing you in and you end up finding yourself staring. God, those eyes make mine wish they were brighter, happier.

But that's only a wish. I end up looking into those gorgeous eyes, but it's always, and always will be, from afar. 

I once tried to paint his eyes, but I never could bring myself to finish. The reason was, he was too far away to understand how to paint them. I know exactly how they look, but to put that on a canvas and fully express how much beauty they hold is almost impossible. Is was that, and another thing.

He, Ivan Braginski, has no idea I even care to look. 

Frankly, in some ways I'd like it to stay that way. But there's always a longing, a deep desire for him to catch my eye and look back at me. So he notices, and so that I can finally see those eyes on mine. Again.

It wasn't always like this. Years before high school was even close to coming into view, when everyone my age only wanted to play and pretend, I knew him, and he knew me. We would race each other to the playground, the only expression on our faces joyful.

"Alfred! Come to the slide with me," His small voice would say to me, his Russian accent rolling the r in my name. I had a wild imagination, and he'd ask if we were going to play as pirates, cowboys, astronauts, or any other thing I could think of. His favorite was always astronauts, since his face would light up when I choose it. We were close, and we were neighbors in my town. I'd walk over to his house, and we'd play until it got dark. The two of us never had any problems with each other.

That is, until a few years later. 

When we were in fourth or fifth grade, I was the smartest kid in my class. Others got jealous of that, and I got teased. I wasn't smart to them, I was stupid and a complete failure. I didn't say anything about it to Ivan, but he saw through me. He told the kids to back off and leave me alone, and the only response was a sly comment.

"Oh, so you're standing up for little Freddy huh? What is he, your boyfriend? You into guys now?"

Ivan didn't understand that, and told me what they said. We both had no idea how to fix it at that point, and the situation became too hard to deal with.

So we got quiet. He moved to a different neighborhood a few years later, still in the same town but just father away. I was alone all throughout middle school, and then high school came. The beginning was like a nightmare, it was worse than either of my previous experiences. Football players threw me against lockers and I was constantly treated like garbage. I'm only a few years in now, but things haven't changed. The only thing I enjoy about high school is having Ivan in a few of my classes, sitting near enough to look at him and remember when we were young and innocent. But I'm still unnoticed as I have been all these years.

He's the only person I've ever truly loved.

The feeling began way back before even fifth grade. It was a bright spring day at recess, and Ivan thought of a new idea, which was to make daisy crowns. I didn't understand how to though, so he made one for me. As my young self watched him wrap the flowers together into jewelry made of nature, something sparked in me. The way Ivan's sparkling, magnificent eyes were focused on tying the stems and how he slightly stuck out his tongue in concentration, it made me stare. Once he was finished, however, I snapped out of my trance and smiled as we both wore the prized crowns on our delicate foreheads. But back then, I didn't really get that spark yet. It took awhile for me to realize just how much I was attracted to him, not only for his looks, but just for him in general.

Now I sit at my desk in literature class, my gaze ending up on his face again. I'm studying how his long nose curves in places and how soft his pale lips look. God those lips too, I've dreamed of them brushing against my own too many times. But of course, the bell ring snaps me out of it like it always does. I watch him stand up from his seat and-

Wait a minute.

I watch him stand up from his seat and.. see his face turn towards me.

"Oh, hello Alfred!"

Oh my god. It finally happened. He noticed, he noticed me. Ivan Braginski finally caught sight of my stare, and even greeted me.

This must be the most craziest dream I've had in my life. But yet, it's not a dream. This is.. this is real. 

I can finally look now, I can finally see his eyes on mine again. And my god, they're better than any painting I've seen. They're shining, like purple stars, swirling, as I almost feel tears in my own.

But how, I think, how do I reply to him? 

"Alfred? Are you there?"

Idiot, I think again, you're a goddamn idiot, Alfred Jones.