Ivan shot awake, panting heavily as he stared out into the darkness of his room. Still feeling the adrenaline rushing through his body, the fear still lingering, Ivan quickly turned on his lamp. The room was bathed in a dim glow, and the man let out a small sigh. This was the second time this week... He buried his face in his hands for a moment, letting out a shuddering breath. Sweat coated his hands, and he noticed for the first time that he was soaked in it.
Standing up quietly, Ivan made his way to the bathroom. He turned on the light, squinting at the brightness, when he let out a humorless laugh once catching a glimpse of his appearance. It was almost comical how weak and pathetic he looked. His thin frame, with dark bags under tired purple eyes. His snow like hair sticking out in every feasible direction. The bandages wrapped around his neck. The scars poking from underneath his shirt...
What a pathetic view. It was no wonder he was invaded and conquered so often in the past, haunted by cruel bosses and leaders. Famine and drought had to be lurking around the corner somewhere. The cold was never ending, enveloping him no matter what he tried to get rid of it. Covered in scars of all shapes and sizes. He deserved them all.
If only he could have been stronger. But he deserved the scars, for being so weak. So useless. No wonder no one wanted to be around him.
Sighing, he shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of these thoughts. Alfred had said that it wasn't healthy to think these kinds of things... That he thought of himself too lowly...
Ivan peeled off his sweat soaked undershirt, and pulled off his sweatpants and boxers, tossing them into the laundry basket. He gently unraveled the bandages around his neck, being sure not to look in the mirror.
He quietly made his way to the bathtub, and sat in it, arms wrapped around himself due to the cold porcelain. He turned on the water, feet directly under the blast. Once he deemed the water hot enough, he plugged the drain. Ivan listened tiredly at the almost musical sound of the running water, eyes heavy.
Ivan pressed his back against the cold porcelain, trying to keep himself from falling asleep. He didn't need to have another nightmare so soon... Besides, the cold always felt good against scars... The numbness was much more tolerable than the burning sensation he was used to there.
Feeling so unbearably exposed, free for taking, Ivan brought his knees to his chest. Doing this always helped him feel more safe. As if it could protect himself. Although it never stopped himself from being conquered, being branded...
Ivan turned the water off, leaning back, water soaking into his skin. Like this, almost floating in the warmth, he could almost imagine that he wasn't scarred. He could almost feel whole...
His thoughts shifted away from view, as he closed his eyes, dozing off. The warm water was so comforting... As if it were a blanket that could keep everything bad away...
