Many people wondered why he stuck around. Why he stayed with the man who constantly smiled and dreamt of sunflowers and warm places, despite the fact that his heart was every bit as cold as his land.

He was beaten and broken and humiliated time and time again, with only a few rare, warm moments in which he actually felt loved. Bruises and cuts littered his body. Deep wounds ran around his wrists and ankles where rope rubbed off his skin. Finger-shaped bruises on either side of his neck where hands had been smothering the life out of him. Thin, too-pale skin stretched across protruding ribs. Dark semi-circles hung below dull violet eyes.

People asked him why he stayed with the man who caused all of his pain and suffering. Asked him time and time again why he didn't just leave and return to the pseudo-safety of his home. They didn't know why anyone would willingly stay with that monster of a man.

Hell, he didn't even know.

He kept telling himself that it was because he loved the man who may as well have been made of ice itself. He told himself it was because he was in love with him, that he didn't want to leave because of that.

And that hadn't been a lie...at first. He had come because the man interested him (and because he needed help). He was intrigued by the man who said he wanted nothing more than sunflowers and a warm place (and world domination, but that was more hinted than outwardly declared). And, at least he thought, he had fallen in love with him somewhere along the way.

But that was before. Now, he didn't know what he wanted anymore. He wasn't allowed to want anything. He was only supposed to take what was given to him. He didn't know how to feel hungry or thirsty anymore. He ate and drank when food and water was given to him, and even then, it wasn't much.

Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he felt that he wanted to go home. But he always squashed the feeling down; he wasn't supposed to want anything. And even if he were allowed, he knew he wouldn't be able to go home anyway. It was best not to want things, because all he would get would be disappointment.

People asked him why he stayed.

And every time, he would answer with a quiet, "I love him," and walk away.

Back inside.

Back to the prison.

Back to Ivan.

"Velcome back, Roderich."

Yeah...
This was actually written for an APH meme I took.
I liked it.
So I posted it on here.

The part about not being allowed to want anything was an idea from my friend Have Faith In Yourself. Don't ask. Long story. Faithers, you'll get it.

This actually didn't take very long to write...and it wasn't very hard either. Which surprised me because I've had such horrible Writer's/Creativity Block for a while now.
Ah well, at least I managed to write something.

Auf Wiedersehen.
-Ammy