Ivan helped me a lot. He helped mostly only by speaking German, a language I could understand. He was a calm person with no intention to fight, rather conservative and closed in doors. I tried to ask him about his job, he did seem like to own one. I tried to communicate by helping him with chores, yet he stayed away from me. I was so inflamed and angry for feeling like an unwanted guest, except guests can leave but I couldn't.
Most of the days, Ivan stayed outside beside the stream he had found me. Hours and hours, he sat beside the frozen water and stared at it, as if there were the most interesting creatures of the world. Most of the times, he just drank bitter coffee or vodka. Most of the times, he came back home with his eyes red and puffed, he cried. Sometimes when I woke up in night, I could hear him whimper in his sleep and that really was a horrible scene. At some points I really wanted to leave him, to leave his home and let him alone. He barely spoke, barely ate and barely looked at me, as if I didn't exist.
He disappeared once in a while to bring supplies to his small house from the closest city. The winter in Russia had always been brutal, but that year, it was the most difficult of times for me. The loss of my brother, my family and my poor people, yet I was the coward who had been running away. I was stuck in that house with him, because my life was in danger... and I was glad that Ivan had let me stay. Even though he never knew I existed there. His warm manner from the first day had dusted away. I was invisible!
"Take a seat." At one of those stormy days, when Ivan couldn't follow his daily routine near the shore, he asked me to join him in a drink. I was new with alcohol; I really didn't enjoy it much.
"Prost!" I had never drunk that much alcohol at once, my throat burned and I had a funny feeling. Tipsy. I coughed and noticed that my nose was running, but I didn't care much because we were in middle of winter in Russia.
But as it felt, it wasn't my nose, it was blood. My nose was bleeding because of the amount of alcohol I had consumed. Pressure.
I ignored the flowing blood from my nose, threw my head back and let scarlet drops land on my hand and clothes. At first, Ivan just watched me with his blank face, but after a moment when I wanted to quaff yet another glass, a drop dropped inside it. I horridly looked at him who sat in front of me. He slammed the bottle on the table and started to laugh. His voice was so different, yet I barely heard him speak, maybe it was my hallucination. Maybe I was just dreaming, but he was laughing. His voice was shaking and it was imperfect, still boisterous and genuine.
I joined him, too. His cheeks were red from the alcohol roaming in his body and the tip of his nose stained red, while the rest of his face and hands were as white as the snow outside. Well, I couldn't really compare him to myself, because I am an albino and I was the palest amongst us. As I wiped the blood away with my sleeve, it hit me that Ivan was an interesting person. He was constantly laughing and smiling when he was drunk. Alcohol eased his false tensions. That night, it was the first time I had seen his teeth, they were white and arranged. That night, I noticed so many things about him despite my drunk- illusions. For example: whenever he swung his head around or rested his neck, I could see some scares around his neckline. He always wore high turtleneck pullovers all the time and covered it with his scarf. But that night, he wasn't paying any attention, or maybe he wanted me to see the marks.
"Don't touch." As I leaned forward to touch it while he had his eyes closed, he snatched my wrist and warned me with a glare, but let go. From then till later, I didn't dare to skin ship with him. He was different. He smiled with his eyes closed and laughed, it was creepy.
He was always stoic, but while laughing, he looked younger. I didn't know exactly how old he was, maybe something between 30 or 32. My vision was blurry, but I could see the lines on his face and around his mouth, they didn't make him old, they made him mature. The stubble on his face and the ruffled hair. Hair so pale.
Ivan wasn't a bad person, he was peculiar.
He laughed and his tears were falling with. He hid mysteries.
"Are you ok?" My question wasn't meant as to see him physically, but for the tears. He certainly needed help or else why would someone spend most of their time glancing at the frozen stream while stuffing himself with the poison named Vodka?
I never wanted to touch him again, never wanted to feel his grab around my skinny wrist, but I couldn't fathom his condition. I slowly reached over, and poked his arm. He was a strong man indeed as the muscles under his clothes were worked on. He faced me with an exhausted face and sighed. He cocked an eyebrow and motioned his head.
"What is wrong?" I attempted to calm him, he was always calm than I felt. I couldn't look him eye to eye, I couldn't look anybody eye in eye, because of my rare red eyes. Sometimes, I couldn't detect his eye colour, he had blue, and I saw purple.
"Are you staying.. here?" Ivan asked non chalantly. His existence smelled like vodka, I hated it, but his question shocked me the most.
"I have to, I mean I have no place to go, " I answered honestly, unaware of the fact that he wasn't asking about staying here because I had no place, but stay there as his accompany. His companion.
...
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