The way you coped with this particular trauma was thinking about other things. They started off pretty grimly, but they were thoughts regardless.

Ivan's idea of a safe house was a closet in one of the bedrooms in the house. You did not have a choice in this matter. What happened to your tea was beyond you, but it wasn't in your hand when you got into the closet. Once you were safely inside, he put you down and closed the door. He pressed his hear to the door, not making a sound. Following his lead, you held your breath. The scratching and pounding were more distant, hardly even audible.

Okay, okay, think of other things. This is what it must have been like for Anne Frank. Bad analogy. Moving on.

You glanced at Ivan. His hair was the same color as the frosted world outside, which you had gone through. How had you even gotten out of there? You blamed the cupcake. New phrase for a bad situation: cupcake. Man, I really worked myself into a cupcake, didn't I? and so on.

Out of nowhere, there was an uprising in the noise. Whoever it was had to have been screaming and pounding at the door more furiously. "BROTHER" she screeched. Both of you jumped. Looking at it, there really was no clear winner as to who was more scared.

Ever so slowly, the noises subsided. Eventually, either five minutes or half an hour later, all was silent except from the tick-tocking of a heavy clock somewhere in the home. Neither of you moved, or even breathed for that matter. It was a painful silence.

"I am going to go see if she left," he said after a minute. "I will come and tell you if it is safe."

Hardly making any noise, which was a miracle for somebody of his massive stature, he slipped through the door and shut it. You were left alone to roam in the closet, maybe even to hide in it. This whole situation was ridiculous, really. In a sarcastic manner, you clicked your heels together three times, eyes closed. Nothing happened. Oh well. You could go and see what clothes he had hanging around.

To say that this guy had winter clothes was a very grand understatement. Almost everything in there was either large enough to go over five other things, or it was dense, sometimes both. He had a scarf hanging, which you playfully put around your neck for a second, adorning a sweater. It felt like satin. You pulled the sweater off and draped it over your arm.

Footsteps headed your way. With as much speed as you could, you put the scarf back where it was, but the door still opened too soon. You were holding the sweater, trying to put it on a hanger.

"You like the sweater, da?"

Feeling a hot redness on your face, you swallowed. "Yeah. Sorry for snooping..."

"It is okay. I hide all of my important things elsewhere, so you would not have come across anything bad."

For a moment, you thought about what he just said. You had mixed feelings about trying to find out what his secrets were. Part of you was nervous because who knew what he was hiding. Another part of you figured it was safer to not know these things.

You hung the sweater back up and shuffled out of the closet. He stepped out of the way, allowing you out. It was then that you noticed that tea had been splattered every which way, including all over his front.

"I should probably change my shirt," he said. "I can let you borrow something so your shirt can be washed to, if you like."

Blinking, you looked down at your shirt. How did you not notice this before? That was about rule one of things that you noticed about yourself!It was almost purely brown with the dirt from outside, and was now smattered with a rather decorative flair of tea. You really liked that shirt, too.

"Oh, uh, I guess so."

He took the sweater you had previously been looking at off the hanger and handed it to you. There was a bright, innocent smile on his face. Really, how could somebody be that adorable?

"The bathroom is just down the hall," he said, pointing. The radiant smile never faltered from his face.

As swiftly as you could, you went to the bathroom and shut the door behind yourself. Thankfully, this door locked. You put your head against it once you were inside. Oh good lord what had you gotten yourself into? How did you even get yourself into it?

Okay, no. Ivan was waiting for you to come back. Better not sit there forever and hate yourself. Besides, he was such a sweet heart that you could hardly think of doing something like that.

You took off your grimy shirt, which actually felt really stiff and crusty in your hand, and quickly donned the sweater. That was soft, too. It looked like you were wearing a bed sheet, due to the body size versus clothing size ratio, but it worked. You simply rolled up the sleeves.

Seeing as you were in the bathroom, you looked in the mirror. Admittedly, you thought you would have looked worse than what you did. Sure, your hair was being a bit unruly, but there were not black bags under your eyes or noticeable dirt. You ran your fingers through your hair and dashed a bit of water on your face.

Your stomach rumbled. Better get out there. Maybe he could give you some good food. Maybe he had some magical hang over cure. Maybe he had some answers.

Author's Note: Please remember to review and tell me what you think! Sorry if using the name Amy throws you guys off...