Alfred slowly brought his clenched fist upwards, trying to appear threatening, when in reality, he was frightened beyond human comprehension. While he had never engaged in a serious physical skirmish with Ivan before, he had certainly come dangerously close more than once before. He knew that he would end up with a minor injury or two, at best. A bruised jaw or bloody nose didn't concern him too much. But what did concern him was the fact that Ivan was armed.

That damn metal pipe of his. It's like his child or something—does he ever leave the house without it?

Alfred glanced to his right for a split second. Matthew was standing right at the entrance to the open kitchen, lavender eyes ridden with panic and confusion. Past the Canadian was the knife block, sitting near the sink.

They were all sharp and precise, but they were meant for piercing through food, not human flesh. Alfred decided against using them but silently agreed to himself that he would have to consider them if the worst came to worst.

Only then, though. I'm not a murderer.

Still, a sinking feeling took root in his stomach. Ivan could definitely handle a slice or two from a kitchen knife. Hell, he could probably get his jugular crushed and still somehow make it out alive.

Alfred gritted his teeth, searching through Ivan's merciless eyes.

How could someone as cruel as him fall for someone like Tolys? Tolys is so nice, so reasonable—I couldn't even imagine.

And how does Ivan think Tolys could ever reciprocate those feelings? Some stroke of luck? Stockholm syndrome? He must be praying for a miracle.

Suddenly, the lights began to flicker. While Ivan did not break eye contact, Alfred could still notice a hint of surprise flash through those violet pools.

"Matt? Are you playing with the switch?" Alfred joked weekly, although he knew that wasn't the case.

As expected, Matthew shook his head. He sighed in relief, glad there was some distraction to break the tension. "There's a huge storm out there," Matthew said, pointing a thumb to the half-covered window. "We're lucky that the power didn't completely go out altogether."

Alfred chuckled. "Haha, right. But we probably shouldn't jinx things."

By some twisted stroke of fate, what Matthew had predicted came true. The lights shut off, replacing everything with complete blackness.

Alfred bit back a childish scream. He wasn't scared of most things. Spiders, heights, snakes—all things that didn't even come close to fazing him. But the dark… something about it pierced right through his obnoxious hero complex and into his soul.

He could hear Ivan's footsteps echoing through the room. Based on the softer volume of his voice, Alfred could deduce that he had crossed the room to look out the window.

"The whole neighborhood has also lost power," Ivan commented in monotone.

Matthew mumbled a quiet "mhmm" in confirmation and began to carefully try finding his way around. "We need flashlights. Do you have your phone on you, Al?"

"Yeah." Alfred nodded and reached into his pocket, only to find himself grasping at empty space. He laughed humourlessly.

I left it in the car. Isn't that rich?

"Sorry. Looks like the hero may not be as reliable as he originally stated," admitted Alfred with a sheepish grin.

Matthew simply rolled his eyes, as if he was expecting it. "So it figures. Ivan, what about you?" His voice tensed as he redirected his attention to the other person in the blacked-out room.

"Дa." Ivan brought out his own phone and switched on its flashlight. The piercing white light sliced through the darkness, illuminating Ivan's face.

Alfred felt a slight sense of relief from the flashlight, even though it didn't even come close to lighting up the entire room.

The relief was short-lived, as Matthew intercepted the shining phone's light from Ivan and disappeared into the storage closet, leaving Alfred alone in an unlit room.

Well, almost alone. Ivan was still there, but Alfred wasn't too keen on making small talk. They were about to beat each other into pulps, conversating casually now would seem like a joke.

Alfred bit the inside of his cheek, repeating one sentence in his head:

You are not scared. You are not scared. You are not scared-

This claim was smashed to bits as another boom of thunder shook the house, leaving Alfred a trembling mess.

Thank god Ivan can't see me like this. He would have never let me live it down.

I keep telling myself and everyone around me that I'm a hero. Heroes are never scared!

Yet somehow, Ivan was able to point out Alfred's discomfort.
"Is the dark not to your liking, Alfred?"

"No! Where'd you get that from?" Alfred denied instinctively.

Although he couldn't see Ivan's face, Alfred assumed a trademark childish grin was pasted on the Russian's mouth.

"I know everything, Alfred," Ivan said a matter-of-factly. "Hiding things from me is impossible."

Alfred cursed silently.

God, why does he have to be so creepy all the time! No wonder everybody is so damn scared of him! I can't believe he even thinks he has a chance with Liet.

"Oh? Have I struck a nerve?" Ivan received no response, which was all he needed to hear.

Alfred heard more footsteps and felt a cold hand on his shoulder. His pupils dilated even further as he suppressed the urge to yell out. He slowly turned his head back, blue eyes meeting with purple. The violet looked a lot more like black in the darkness, though.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Alfred shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what else he was supposed to do.

Ivan laughed darkly. They were so close—Alfred could practically feel Ivan's breath on the back of his own neck.

"Nothing. But you have yet to answer my question." The laughing ceased, and a new expression replaced the initial off-putting one. This one was… concerned? The notion seemed ridiculous to Alfred. So ridiculous, in fact, that he mentally chastised himself for even considering it. "Are you scared of the dark, Alfred?"

A long silence ensued. Alfred didn't quite know how he was supposed to answer.

If I lie, he'll just know anyways. Creepy. But if I tell the truth, he's going to just laugh. Probably tell Tolys, too, if it gets him romance points.

Throughout Alfred's panicked mess of thoughts, Ivan's hand remained on his shoulder. Most likely to prevent him from escaping.

Not like I'd go very far. This house isn't that huge, and we're in a blackout, for god's sake.

"Well… kind of…" Alfred looked to the floor, not wanting to see Ivan's face contort into another smirk. He braced himself for the inevitable onslaught of laughter.

But it never came.

"Why?" asked Ivan, the question hanging up in the air like an unwanted presence.

Why? Why am I scared of the dark? It sounds so stupid, doesn't it?

Alfred felt like he wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, a feeling that felt so unfamiliar. He rarely was confronted with situations in which he was at the mercy of the other person.

"I guess I'm scared because.." He couldn't find the right words. "Because… in the dark, there could be all sorts of things ready to come for you. Like, you could be in an unlit room and there could be a crazy psycho murderer standing right behind you, ready to kill you melee style." Alfred caught sight of another strike of vivid white lightning through the window. "Maybe it's like… what I don't know might hurt me."

Somehow, it felt good to get it off his chest after keeping it to himself for so long. Even if he was spilling it to someone like Ivan.

Ivan nodded thoughtfully. "I understand. Do you want to know what I am scared of?"

Alfred raised one eyebrow.

When did this become a confessional hour?

He looked back to Ivan, who actually looked genuinely invested in the conversation. For once, he was taking Alfred seriously.

Whatever. I'll humour him, for now.

"Sure," Alfred replied after a short pause.

What is he scared of?

Natalya, maybe? That's no surprise.

"Being alone." Ivan stared off into the dark, a faraway look in his deep violet eyes. "You were right. I never had any friends." He lifted his hand from Alfred's shoulder and let it fall to his side. "Once I tried befriending a hamster. It didn't quite work out as well as I would have hoped."

Ignoring the small attempt at humour at the end of Ivan's sentence, Alfred couldn't help but feel pity for the Russian.

"Not trying to be rude, but I already figured as much. I mean, you're not the most welcoming person around…" Alfred shut his mouth, realizing that his words came out a little harsher than intended.

Ivan accepted it all with a solemn nod. "I thought so. I have done some terrible things. It's no surprise, really," he said. "But I have always believed in forgiveness. Even if I show that I am no longer a monster, people still continue to treat me as one." Ivan's voice threatened to crack under the weight of his own emotions. He really didn't mind. So much was already bursting from the seams, it was only a matter of time before his constitution gave away completely.

"Hey… I really didn't know all that." A pang of guilt stabbed Alfred in the heart. The person standing in front of him was someone he had spent basically his whole life developing a hatred for. Alfred would have never imagined that he would be having a heart-to-heart with that very person. "Ivan, dude, I'm sorry for saying all that. You know, about you having no friends…"

Ivan smiled. Not an ominous grin, but a genuine smile. "I am beginning to think that you aren't an insensitive asshole."

That should have been insulting. But somehow… it isn't?

"Right back at you, buddy," responded Alfred jokingly.

"On a different note, do you know what is taking Matthew so long?" Ivan turned his head in the direction of the storage closet down the hall.

Alfred shrugged. "Beats me. I'm going to go check."

He spun on his heel in an attempt to begin his walk, but his foot got caught on Ivan's heel instead. Alfred began to tumble backward, grasping at anything he could use to break his fall. The first thing he happened to find was Ivan's arm.

Before he could realize what was happening, Ivan was on the floor, too.

Laying right on top of Alfred.

Matthew quickly ran out of the closet at the loud noise. "Eh? What happened-"

The Canadian looked at the ground and processed what he was seeing.

"The bedroom is that way if you need it."

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

"Lovi… you hurt Antonio? How?" Feliciano bombarded his older brother with questions, aching to find out what had really pushed Lovino to the brink of tears.

Lovino buried his face in his hands, feeling the hot tears escape from his eyes and cascade down his flushed cheeks. "I wasn't good enough—DAMMIT! I was never good enough…" His entire body trembled with sadness and frustration. All of his grievances were his own fault, and for once, he was able to openly admit it.

Feliciano shook his head and patted Lovino on the back assuringly. "Fratello, you are good enough! You're the best big brother I could hope for!"

Lovino removed his hands from his tear-streaked face and looked at his younger brother with red-rimmed eyes. "No I'm not, Feli. Antonio deserves someone better than me. Someone who isn't such a damn jerk all the time."

Feliciano crossed his arms over his chest. "Lovi, Antonio loves you. You both deserve each other, can't you see it? He even put it down for you on paper!" His eyebrows narrowed accusingly. "It's not everyday when someone loves you enough to do something like that. It's so obviously meant to be! Do you even love him?"

Lovino let another sob escape his mouth before replying. "Si, dumbass."

"I don't think I'm the dumbass here, Lovi. Remember what you told me back in the car? You told me that I needed to be strong," reminded Feliciano. He pointed a finger at Lovino's face. "And now, it's my turn to tell you the same thing."

Lovino heard a loud boom. He glanced out the window, only just then noticing the downpour that was happening outside. "It's none of your business…"

Feliciano shook his head again, this time more assertively. "When you walk around the house and spend the rest of your days sulking and crying and regretting your decisions, I have to make it my business."

Whatever version of Feliciano Lovino was witnessing now was not the usual Feliciano he knew. This one was stronger, wiser beyond his years.

He seemed to know a thing or two about love. So Lovino listened.

"Fine." Lovino refused to make eye contact, instead choosing to direct his gaze to the ceiling. "What do I do, now?"

Feliciano grinned, glad that he could get through to his stubborn older brother.

"Remember what Antonio asked you?"

Lovino thought for a moment. "About Homecoming?"

Feliciano nodded. "If you want to show him you love him, there's something you can do to start." He leaned inwards, placing his elbows on his knees.

"Give him an answer."