Re: Grace Under Pressure 3/3
anonymous
April 29 2009, 23:01:08 UTC
“I-I-I have...feelings. For you. I could never betray you, t-there isn’t enough money or anything to tempt me. B-because I’d always want you more, I’d always need you.” He hung his head. “I couldn’t tell you that, with Alfred on my case all the time. Is that good enough? Ivan, please, I don’t know anything.”
The gun pressed a little harder before pulling away entirely - Matthew’s stomach fell to his feet, so sick and scared he couldn’t think. He could only remember the sound of rivers and deep forests, the sight of Ivan still asleep mid morning in his bed. How can it end like this?
“Da. It is not good enough.”
Matthew let out a terribly quiet sound, the second before the sound of a shot rang out, scattering the birds.
He held his breath, waiting for the pain.
He held his breath, and kept holding. Then he dared to take one, two, three breathes, choking over them. The scent of fresh wood and spice overwhelmed him while the blindfold was being yanked off, a pair of painfully cold hands touching all over his face. He was still crying, he realized, and Ivan was as well, skin pale grey and water marks down his cheeks.
“Forgive me, milenky, I am so sorry, forgive me, forgive me.” Matthew was crushed in his embrace almost painfully, and then his limbs started to work again. He reached up and cuffed Ivan in the ear hard, knocking him away.
“H-how could you?! You bastard! You tried to - you did this to me for nothing? I told you to trust me, why can’t you just trust me!” He yelled, wrestling with the taller blond and viciously trying to hit him. It was hard to see past his tears, with Ivan’s distraught face swimming in and out of focus. Ivan grappled with him, finally catching his hands and pulling him down again. When Ivan did speak, he sounded haunted.
“I should have. I am so used to...partners, running away, betraying, lying. I wanted believe you were different but I could not be sure. I was so angry to hear you might be with Alfred. Jealous.” His hands stroked Matthew’s hair while he spoke, warming him.
The Canadian tried to find the right words to get through to Ivan; it was like having his heart simultaneously broken and filled again with desire, exhausting and wonderful. He felt weaker, open and vulnerable and all the lighter for it. His hands explored the rough texture of Ivan’s coat, the slightly coarse jaw, smooth angles of his nose and forehead. Ivan caught the wandering hands and kissed them.
“You have no idea how hard I have tried to ignore you,” Matthew started, low and uncertain. “Or that I spent so much of my time watching you closely, trying to help you when I could. You’re this lighthouse in my world, because when I see or feel something wonderful that only you could understand, I wish you were there. It isn’t as beautiful, or worth seeing, if you’re not there.”
He tried to move away, tried to hate Ivan but kept falling short. “I need you to be there, to illuminate it,” He finished, breathless. All he could see was plum coloured eyes, begging forgiveness, and pale hair.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Ivan whispered, touching his cheek and flooding Matt’s senses with warmth. The wind had picked up, and he knew his hands were getting frostbite. “I was sure, they said you were seen with him. I should have known. I should have known better. I’m sorry.” He added, finally gathering up the cold, smaller man and wrapping him around his coat. Matt let his head rest on Ivan’s shoulder and closed his eyes to try and stop shaking.
They stayed like that for maybe minutes, or hours, until Ivan pressed a kiss onto his forehead. “I will make it up to you. I-I will do anything, anything so you would trust me again,” He said into Matthew’s hair.
The Canadian held on, braced from the cold against Ivan. “I know,” he soothed, sensing the lasting distress from Ivan, “I know.”
The gun pressed a little harder before pulling away entirely - Matthew’s stomach fell to his feet, so sick and scared he couldn’t think. He could only remember the sound of rivers and deep forests, the sight of Ivan still asleep mid morning in his bed. How can it end like this?
“Da. It is not good enough.”
Matthew let out a terribly quiet sound, the second before the sound of a shot rang out, scattering the birds.
He held his breath, waiting for the pain.
He held his breath, and kept holding. Then he dared to take one, two, three breathes, choking over them. The scent of fresh wood and spice overwhelmed him while the blindfold was being yanked off, a pair of painfully cold hands touching all over his face. He was still crying, he realized, and Ivan was as well, skin pale grey and water marks down his cheeks.
“Forgive me, milenky, I am so sorry, forgive me, forgive me.” Matthew was crushed in his embrace almost painfully, and then his limbs started to work again. He reached up and cuffed Ivan in the ear hard, knocking him away.
“H-how could you?! You bastard! You tried to - you did this to me for nothing? I told you to trust me, why can’t you just trust me!” He yelled, wrestling with the taller blond and viciously trying to hit him. It was hard to see past his tears, with Ivan’s distraught face swimming in and out of focus. Ivan grappled with him, finally catching his hands and pulling him down again. When Ivan did speak, he sounded haunted.
“I should have. I am so used to...partners, running away, betraying, lying. I wanted believe you were different but I could not be sure. I was so angry to hear you might be with Alfred. Jealous.” His hands stroked Matthew’s hair while he spoke, warming him.
The Canadian tried to find the right words to get through to Ivan; it was like having his heart simultaneously broken and filled again with desire, exhausting and wonderful. He felt weaker, open and vulnerable and all the lighter for it. His hands explored the rough texture of Ivan’s coat, the slightly coarse jaw, smooth angles of his nose and forehead. Ivan caught the wandering hands and kissed them.
“You have no idea how hard I have tried to ignore you,” Matthew started, low and uncertain. “Or that I spent so much of my time watching you closely, trying to help you when I could. You’re this lighthouse in my world, because when I see or feel something wonderful that only you could understand, I wish you were there. It isn’t as beautiful, or worth seeing, if you’re not there.”
He tried to move away, tried to hate Ivan but kept falling short. “I need you to be there, to illuminate it,” He finished, breathless. All he could see was plum coloured eyes, begging forgiveness, and pale hair.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Ivan whispered, touching his cheek and flooding Matt’s senses with warmth. The wind had picked up, and he knew his hands were getting frostbite. “I was sure, they said you were seen with him. I should have known. I should have known better. I’m sorry.” He added, finally gathering up the cold, smaller man and wrapping him around his coat. Matt let his head rest on Ivan’s shoulder and closed his eyes to try and stop shaking.
They stayed like that for maybe minutes, or hours, until Ivan pressed a kiss onto his forehead. “I will make it up to you. I-I will do anything, anything so you would trust me again,” He said into Matthew’s hair.
The Canadian held on, braced from the cold against Ivan. “I know,” he soothed, sensing the lasting distress from Ivan, “I know.”
____
er. Hope OP likes. *scuttles away to fill moar*
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I especially liked how sweetly it turned out in the ending. Goodjob! Thanks alot!
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