I shift uncomfortably on the cold seat under me and wiggle my wrists around in the tight metal cuffs binding them close, locked in an awkward and intense staring contest with the man sitting across from me. I clear my throat to fill the silence between us and he drops his gaze to shuffle through some papers laid out in front of him; victory for me. I realize that this isn't the time to indulge in something so childish, but it makes me feel better. And it takes my mind off… Mattie. Mattie and I used to have staring contests. We'd stare at each other for what would seem like eternity, eyes burning and watering, until one of us finally found it too painful to keep our eyes open. Most of the time it was me copping out because Mattie was a pro at staring contests and had a lot of endurance. He was also really competitive and a major sore loser, so I lost a lot of sibling competitions with him. I can proudly say, however, that I've bested my younger brother at anything requiring a ton off upper body strength. But I guess that doesn't really amount to anything now…'cause he's dead…
"Mr. Jones," the man—what's his name again… Honda?—speaks up, tearing me out of my reverie.
I shake my head to clear it. "Yeah?"
Honda folds his arms on the table and locks his gaze with mine, once again initiating the staring contest we'd been previously engaged in. He looks tired, not that I blame him. It's been hours since he arrived at the scene of the crime—my kitchen—and took me into custody. Hours since my brother was found lying dead with a skinned polar bear cub in his arms. Agonizingly slow, torturous hours waiting in this room for something, anything, to give me closure. Instead, I get this same cliché crime show treatment. It's bullshit. Someone killed my baby brother and instead of going out to find the guy who murdered him, this bastard is in here treating me like I'm the one who killed Mattie. His eyes are narrowed, staring at me accusingly. Who does he think he is?
"You said you were out at the time of the murder?" Honda questions, earning an irritated sigh from me. Since I'd called the police earlier, I've had to tell and retell my story to at least a dozen people. It's getting annoying repeating the same damn thing, but for Matthew's sake I guess it won't hurt me to do it again.
"Yeah, dude, I was out getting pizza. Mattie and I planned to hang around the house tonight," I close my eyes, forcing the earlier events into my mind. Instantly, Matthew's lifeless body, cold and bloodied, flashes before me. The soft violet of his eyes glazed over with death, his expression frozen in fear. Limply, his arms hold the polar bear, Kumajirou, whom he found precious and held dear to his heart. The bear is hardly recognizable, lacking fur and skin. The poor thing was butchered. Mattie's killer obviously didn't know what he was doing when he offed the bear…did he have to be so cruel…? What had Mattie done to deserve this? Hell, what did Kumajirou do? He was just a cub. If anything, the bear's possible attempts to protect his master probably angered my bro's killer…but that doesn't mean the cub had to be slaughtered like that…
"Look," the cop's voice thankfully interrupts my train of thought, making the horrible image of my deceased brother vanish. "Your alibi doesn't hold up. I'm sorry, Mr. Jones, but you've just become our main suspect in this case."
Anger boils my blood at the new information and I jump to my feet, ready to tackle this bastard to the ground. If only these cuffs weren't holding me back. I could easily take him out. "What?! You can't be serious! I didn't touch a hair on my brother's head! I love Mattie! He's the most important person to me! Why would I kill him?! This had better be some sort of joke!" Growling in frustration, I slam my hands on the table and lean forward, coming nose to nose with Honda. I grit my teeth and glare daggers at him.
He doesn't even flinch. Honda tilts his head, knitting his eyebrows together in thought. "I understand that you're angry-"
"I'm beyond angry! You don't seriously believe that I killed my brother, do you?" I cut him off, balling up my fists, and wait for his answer. Surely he couldn't think that I hurt Matthew. I would never…I couldn't do that. "I would never hurt Matthew…you have to believe me. I didn't do it."
The guy shrugs, regarding me coldly. "I don't know what to believe. All I know is that Matthew Williams is dead and you're the closest to him. Also, you've given a false alibi and you were covered in the victim's blood when I arrived on the scene." Honda sighs and I'm rendered speechless. "Obviously, this isn't looking good for you, Mr. Jones."
"B-but," I sputter, unsure how to respond. "but…I didn't do it. Officer, please, you can't do this. I held him…I held him…they were both bleeding so much, Officer… you don't understand."
For a moment, I notice his hard gaze soften and almost become sympathetic. Maybe, just maybe, he'll change his mind. I can't possibly be a suspect in my brother's murder. Because I didn't do it! I wasn't even at home when Mattie was killed. I was where I said I was, picking up pizza for me and my bro to smash on while we spent our bro day together. That's it. So I don't understand why Honda has told me that my alibi doesn't hold up. There has to be some mistake.
"I'm sorry. There's not much I can do for you right now. We're still analyzing the murder weapon and sorting through all of the evidence," he says quietly, turning his head to look away from me. I drop my eyes and slowly move to sit back down, the fire in my blood extinguishing. "We'll have to hold you here until that's finished."
Numbly, I stare at my hands and think over all that has happened in just a day. My brother was killed along with his bear cub, I've been taken in for questioning…labeled a suspect…and now they're going to hold me here for who knows how long. Today has been a disaster. Of all the people in the world, Matthew had to die today. Why…? Why are people so terrible? Mattie was the most kind-hearted person I knew, and now he's gone. I don't understand why…I just don't understand…who would do this…?
"I have to go, Mr. Jones," he mumbles, awkwardly rising to his feet and gathering the messy papers into a manila folder. He nods to me and tucks the folder under his arm, turning to leave the room.
"Wait! I need to make a call!" I blurt out, realizing that I have to talk to someone. Someone close to Mattie. Even if I don't like him, he has a right to know what happened…and I'd rather he heard it from me than anyone else. "Please…just one call. That's all I'm asking for here. Can't be so bad, can it?"
The cop takes a long, deep breath and trains his eyes back on me, considering my request. Finally, after what seems like freakin' forever, he nods and gestures for me to follow him. Gladly, I jump up and stalk out of the room after him. This won't be easy, but I have to do this. Matthew would want me to and it's the right thing to do. If anything, this is probably the last heroic thing I can do for my little bro.
Honda drops me off at one of those wall phones and I draw in a slow breath to settle my nerves, forming what I'll say in my mind as I pull the phone off the receiver and punch in Ivan Braginski's number…
…xXx…
The phone rang loudly next to Ivan's ear as he was just being lulled into sleep. Irritation sparking, he cracked open an eye and checked the caller I.D., scowling at the unrecognizable number. Ivan ignored the call and rolled over, disgusted that someone would be calling him at this time of night. What idiot seriously believed he'd answer the phone? He had to get up early the next morning and didn't want to waste precious hours of sleep listening to someone pitch their useless product to him. If it wasn't a telemarketer, it was probably Alfred calling to threaten him away from Matthew. He didn't have the patience for it tonight. Ivan was exhausted and wanted only to get some sleep. But the phone just kept ringing. Groaning tiredly, the Russian silenced the phone once more and grabbed a nearby pillow to cover his head, hoping to muffle anymore sounds. The phone rang again. And again. And again…and again. Briefly, Ivan genuinely considered picking up his cell phone and chunking it across the room at a wall to kill the insistent noise it was making. He decided ultimately that this would only lead to him becoming frustrated in the morning and having to purchase another phone. It was probably best to answer the stupid device.
Ivan tossed the extra pillow to the side in aggravation and sat up, passing a hand over his face before gazing at the cell ringing next to him. Something didn't seem right about it. He suddenly had a terrible foreboding about the call and almost didn't want to answer it. A heavy feeling settled in his chest as he cautiously grasped the phone, now wide awake. What was this feeling…?
"Hello…?" his gruff voice answered slowly, furrowing his eyebrows as he waited anxiously for the person on the other line to identify himself. Or herself. Whoever they happened to be. It didn't matter. He just wanted this feeling to disappear. Ivan was uncomfortable with the way it was making him feel. It was getting hard to breathe and his chest was beginning to tighten. He couldn't understand…
"Ivan…dude…I need to talk to you," Ivan instantly recognized Alfred's voice and clenched his hand tighter around the phone. Normally, he would hang up the minute he heard the man's voice, but something made him stay on the line. Something in Alfred's voice made an intense fear to wash over him. The Russian prayed that this didn't have anything to do with Matthew. "I-It's about Mattie…"
Ivan froze, his fears being recognized. Mauve eyes widened as a hand found his chest, his heart pounding wildly. What had happened? Had Matthew been in some sort of accident? Was he ill? What was going on? "What is it? Is he alright? What's going on?"
On the other line, Ivan heard Alfred release a shaky breath. Matthew's brother cleared his throat and whispered, his voice cracking, "Mattie's dead."
A strangled cry escaped Ivan's lips, the entire world seeming to crash down around him. Had he heard it right? Was Matthew really dead? Ivan had just talked to him earlier that day. There was no way he could be dead. This had to just a bad dream… How could Matthew be dead? He wasn't sick; Ivan would've known. He couldn't have possibly gone anywhere that would get him killed. Ivan was very much familiar with the Fridays that Alfred and Matthew spent together. They always stayed in. They never went anywhere. What could have possibly killed Matthew…?
"Alfred, you make good joke. Put Matvey on the phone…please…," Ivan had never felt so desperate in his life. This couldn't really be happening. Not to him. Not to Matthew. Not to his precious Sunflower.
Alfred sighed tiredly, silent on the other end for a moment. "This isn't a joke, Ivan… someone killed Matthew while I was out getting our pizza. I swear I wouldn't joke about that."
Ivan paused. "The bear too…?"
"Yeah…the bastard killed Kumajirou too…," Alfred, for the first time, actually sounded concerned for his brother's boyfriend. "Dude…I am so sorry. I swear…that bastard is gonna pay. The police-"
Ivan couldn't bear to hear anymore and ended the call. He stared blankly at the phone and swallowed thickly, allowing the news of Matthew and Kumajirou's death to sink in. He set the phone gently to the side on his nightstand and rested his face in his hands, closing his eyes. Ivan couldn't believe it. The love of his life was murdered. Why? What had Matthew ever done to deserve it? As far as Ivan knew, Matthew had no enemies. The young man loved everyone. No one had any reason to kill Matthew.
He remembered the first time he'd ever met Matthew. It was as if it were just yesterday. Matthew had still been in high school at the time and with the six year age gap between them, Ivan never thought they'd be anything other than two people passing each other by.
He'd been picking up a few groceries when the young man had approached him, looking fearful and anxious. The boy tugged at his sleeve and so quietly addressed him that Ivan almost didn't hear him. When the two's eyes met, as cliché and cheesy as it sounded, Ivan swore that he felt something spark between them. Ivan wasn't one to believe in love at first sight or soul mates; in fact he thought the concept was stupid. But if he were to have a soul mate, he would've bet on Matthew. And he wasn't exactly sure if what passed between them in that moment could be counted as love at first sight, but it was close enough.
Matthew had questioned him about seeing a polar bear cub around, and at first Ivan thought it was a joke. It was only when a tiny white ball of fur began chewing and tearing up his boots did he find that Matthew had been serious. Embarrassed, the boy flushed and frantically scooped the bear into his arms, apologizing repeatedly to Ivan.
"I-I'm so sorry…Kumajirou doesn't know any better…" Matthew stuttered, his voice never rising over a whisper. "He's just a cub…I'm sorry."
Ivan frowned at his damaged boots, wanting to get angry but unable to muster it up. In the end, he merely shrugged. "No harm done."
Matthew, however, did not seem to agree. "Non, I feel bad. How about I buy you lunch?"
"You do not know me, yet you invite me to lunch with you?" Ivan raised an eyebrow. "How do you know I'm not serial killer? Or rapist?"
"Well…," the boy paused, stroking Kumajirou's ears gently. "You don't look like a serial killer. Or a rapist."
"And by that you assume I'm not?"
Matthew shrugged. "I guess so. But whatever if you are. Isn't life about taking chances and all that?"
Ivan couldn't argue with that, but was slightly disturbed by the boy's naivety. "Da…but you should not be so trusting. Especially at your age. What are you? Twelve?"
"I'm sixteen, thank you very much!" the boy whisper-yelled, looking very much offended. Ivan chuckled softly.
"Excuse me," the Russian stared down at Matthew, violet eyes lit with amusement. "What was your name again…?"
"Matthew Williams," Matthew nodded, shifting his bear into one arm and holding a hand out. "What about you? I don't think I ever asked…"
"Ivan Braginski," Ivan took the outstretched hand in his own, noticing how delicate and soft the boy's hand was, and gave it a firm shake. "Good to meet you, Matvey."
Matthew smiled. "It's good to meet you too, Ivan." He pulled his hand back and raised his pale eyebrows. "About that lunch, are you in or not? It's free food. Who turns down a free meal?"
Ivan hesitated before nodding slowly. "Da…I suppose so. What harm could it do?"
"None at all!"
With a faint smile, Ivan recalled the lunch. It had come as a surprise to him to discover that he and Matthew had much in common. Much like himself, Matthew enjoyed the outdoors and any activities associated with it. Hockey was a shared interest between them and they had spent almost an hour discussing which teams were better among who was the best player. However, while Matthew supported the Canadian teams, Ivan found himself pulling for teams from his own country, Russia. This sparked a heated argument between them that was only dissolved when Kumajirou started chewing on his master's hair to get his attention. At this, both Ivan and Matthew laughed, allowing their argument to blow over. They spoke of dramatic performances they enjoyed, the cold environments they both preferred, and before either of them knew it, the time had slipped away and the evening greeted them. The pair decided that they should keep in touch and exchanged phone numbers before parting ways.
Truthfully, it took Ivan close to a week to even get up the courage to dial Matthew's number. He was met with concerns. What if the boy had forgotten him? What if Matthew didn't want to talk to him, or thought him creepy? Did their conversation over that lunch mean anything? Could they be friends? Ivan had no clue how to answer any of these questions, but in the end somehow managed to call Matthew. Admittedly, the conversation was awkward. It had been much harder for Ivan to hear Matthew's soft voice through the phone than it had been in person. Matthew often got nervous and rambled senselessly. Ivan had been amused by the boy's uneasiness and was patient with him, gently prodding Matthew into subjects he'd be sure to respond to. However, much to Ivan's dismay, each time he managed to get a conversation flowing, an incredibly annoying voice would coincidentally interrupt and distract Matthew. Ivan could only guess that it was the older brother of his new friend. This happened at least five times throughout the whole phone call before Ivan could speak to Matthew without any interruptions. The call ended with plans for them to get together again. And since then, the two had become practically inseparable.
Ivan laid back on his mattress, slinging an arm over his eyes, reminiscing. The first kiss that they shared was also something that he remembered quite clearly. Much to his surprise, it had been Matthew who had initiated it. The young man had been a bold one, Ivan admitted. The thought of kissing the blonde had only crossed his mind a million times, but acting on it was a difficult matter. He hadn't been sure how he would even go about it or even when he would. Turns out, he hadn't had to worry at all. Matthew took care of that for him. Ivan recalled how soft his lover's lips had been when they connected with his for the first time, how his heart soared at knowing that Matthew returned his unspoken feelings. The kiss had been like nothing Ivan had ever experienced in his life. Matthew, however bold he had been to start the kiss, was incredibly shy and hesitant at first, as though he'd been afraid. Of what? Rejection? The Russian had pulled him closer and made a point to put an end to that silly fear. It hadn't taken Matthew long then to open up and show Ivan just how much affection he held for him. Ivan had almost been overwhelmed by the change and the passion the Canadian put into the kiss. In all his life, Ivan had never felt so adored in just a single kiss. It was something so completely new to him, that he nearly thought it too good to be true. He'd thought it would just be like that once, but was proven wrong every other time that they kissed. Matthew somehow managed to make him feel special with each kiss.
His breath hitched as he realized just how much he would miss his blonde's kisses. Who was he kidding? He already missed them. He felt empty inside knowing that he would no longer be able to experience that warm, fuzzy sensation that only surfaced around his Sunflower. Ivan's rough, calloused fingertips ghosted across his slightly parted lips. He could almost feel those smooth, gentle lips brushing against his own, taste the sweetness that often lingered on Matthew's tongue…the way the blonde would tangle those slender fingers in his hair, or how those same fingers would curiously dance across his skin…was all of that really never going to happen again? Was the warmth that Matthew gave him now going to be taken away, leaving him cold again…?
There were so many little things that Ivan prided himself in knowing about Matthew, and even more that he was going to miss. The secret behind Matthew's bouncy, stubborn curl was one of those. He knew just what that piece of hair did to the blonde and often liked to give it a tug, just to amuse himself. And it never failed. Matthew always blushed a deep red and either cursed him or became more agreeable. Most of the time he was cursed. That didn't bother Ivan though; in fact, he found it most amusing when profanities slipped past Matthew's lips. It was a cute sight; he was going to miss that.
He knew that Matthew liked to have the back of his neck kissed. Many times, Ivan had crept up behind an unsuspecting Canadian and in a quick motion moved the golden hair out of the way to tenderly press his lips to the soft, pale skin. Matthew would often respond with a quiet sigh, a blush, and an ever so slight tilt of the head. Ivan then would snake his strong arms around the petite young man and allow his lips to linger as he took in the scent of his lover. He'd catch wind of Matthew's shampoo—green apple; sweet, like him—and a faint amber aroma, the scent of the lotion he used. Ivan remembered how the blonde would laugh—an intoxicating and beautiful sound, something he could never get tired of and would probably give millions to hear again—when he figured out just what the Russian was doing and then, blushing deeper, would turn in the embrace and hide his face in Ivan's chest, playfully scolding. Smiling, Ivan would run his hands up the younger's back and thread his fingers gently through that soft, wheat colored hair, something else he knew that his partner enjoyed. Ivan was so much caught up in his memories that he swore he could actually smell Matthew, as though the blonde were right next to him. He could almost feel the hair that he so often loved to touch. Of course…he knew that this was impossible and moved away from the hurtful thought of Matthew's death, indulging in the other things he knew.
Matthew's sides were ticklish, so much that the blonde would often accidently tickle himself just getting dressed in the mornings. Ivan could recall clearly the intense tickle wars that many times had them both in tears and fighting for breath. Matthew had by chance come across the fact that his feet were ticklish and never let him have a break. At random times, the blonde would tackle his legs and immediately go for his exposed feet. In retaliation, Ivan only had to lean forward and attack the boy's sides, trying his best to hold in his laughter. Eventually, after much struggling, Ivan would overpower Matthew and tickle him until he could no longer even beg for mercy. The Russian managed a smile at the memoirs. Times like that were so full of happiness…
Rolling onto his side, Ivan curled into a ball and tried to maintain control of his breathing and boiling emotions. A sudden, heartbreaking memory flashed across his closed eyes. He frowned and clutched the nearest pillow close to his chest, trembling. He didn't want to remember. This was something that he simply couldn't face. Unfortunately, there was no stopping the flashback now. Ivan felt as though it would linger on his guilty conscience for as long as he lived.
Ivan lingered in the kitchen doorway, watching Matthew pour himself a cup of coffee. The blonde had just gotten into an argument with his brother. One that left the boy complying to his brother's demands as always. Ivan sighed and stepped into the kitchen, quietly shuffling up to his upset love.
"Matvey, are you ok…?" he questioned. It was a stupid thing to ask considering that he knew Matthew was obviously not ok. He kicked himself mentally for it.
Matthew took a small sip of his coffee and nodded, lowering the mug to stare into it. "I'm fine, Ivan."
"нет," Ivan knew immediately that Matthew was lying. It didn't matter to him what the brothers had even argued about; Matthew was upset and that was what mattered to him. He hated to see the cheerful blonde so down. Ivan rested his hands on Matthew's shoulders, affectionately massaging them. "Why do you listen to your brother so much, Matvey? He is not the boss of you."
The blonde relaxed at the soothing contact and set his coffee down. "Ivan…I don't know. He's just always been there for me and always protected me… I guess it's the least I could do, non?"
Ivan remained silent for a moment before spinning Matthew around and pulling him into a tight hug. "I can keep you safe too, da? I can protect you, Matvey…" he whispered, feeling heat rise to his cheeks.
Matthew lifted his head to look the Russian in the eyes. "You promise?"
"Da, I promise. I will always be there to protect you, Sunflower," Ivan leaned in close, brushing his lips against Matthew's. "You are forever safe with me."
"Sunflower…Sunflower, I'm so sorry," Ivan mumbled, voice dripping with anguish. Hot tears slipped past his closed eyes. "I broke my promise, Matvey…I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Sunflower. I didn't know…"
He hid his face in the pillow as his body was racked with uncontrollable sobs. There was no holding back now. Ivan, who was normally so good at holding back his emotions, was now reduced to a crying mess. Guilt overcame him as the unfulfilled promise rang loudly in his ears and tore at his heart. He'd promised to protect Matthew, and failed. He failed to keep the blonde safe… he couldn't save Matthew's life. Apart from his sisters, Matthew was one of the most important people in his life. Why did Matthew have to be taken away from him like this?
Ivan's sobbing became louder as he apologized over and over, wanting to somehow make amends for the fate that had befallen Matthew, feeling that it was his fault. He should've been there. It wouldn't have mattered to him if he was intruding on the brother-bonding time Matthew and Alfred set Fridays for. As long as Matthew was safe…alive…it would've been worth it. Matthew would be laughing and smiling, warm and full of life. He wouldn't have been murdered. Ivan would've killed the bastard that dared to try and lay a finger on his precious love. Had Matthew been in any pain when he was killed? Had his killer been so ruthless as to torture the innocent young man before dealing death upon him? Ivan hoped not. He could only imagine a pained expression on Matthew's face as he too quietly begged for the agony to cease. Crying out, Ivan shook violently as he came close to hyperventilation. That couldn't happen. No one could be that cruel to Matthew…surely no one could. Ivan whimpered, his breaths becoming short and frantic, as he tried to regain composure; however, he was too far gone. The tears just kept coming, no matter how many times he wiped them away. His chest hurt terribly, as if someone had reached in with a bare hand and tore his heart out. This pain, this suffering…it was more than he'd ever experienced before. In all his life, he'd never been so close to someone and never dared to open himself up. Ivan never let anyone in, until Matthew walked into his life. With Matthew, he found that he could truly be himself and actually open up. Now that the blonde was dead…well, he felt so trapped again, like he would shut himself off from the world again. He didn't want that. He wanted to be free of that. Matthew gave him that freedom. Without his Sunflower, he knew that he would surely revert back into himself, and that was the last thing he wanted.
"Please…please let me be d-dreaming…," he stuttered out, giving up all attempts to regain self-control. Ivan clutched his chest, desperately willing the pain away. "Sunflower, I love you…please don't leave me all alone. I need you…"
For so long, Ivan had been alone. He'd thought he preferred it, but he was so wrong. He'd never been more wrong in his life. Matthew showed him that. Had he depended too much on his love's company to save him from that dark aloneness he'd thrived in all his life? Possibly. But did that really call for Matthew to be snatched away from him, plunging him headfirst back into the dark abyss of loneliness he now so despised? What god in this universe would be so cruel and loathing to him?
Ivan wiped his eyes and took long, deep breaths to calm himself. The process of taking these soothing breaths was repeated until he was no longer hyperventilating. Fresh tears still slithered their way out of his tear ducts, but he didn't expect to stop crying for a long time and ignored them. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, rising to his feet only to turn and fall to his knees by the edge of his bed. Hesitantly, Ivan clasped his hands together and bowed his head, allowing his eyes to slowly fall closed. Now Ivan wasn't religious, and he didn't think he'd ever be. But somehow, this felt like the right thing to do. For Matthew, not for himself.
"I am not a religious man by any means and I'm not going to pretend to be. In fact, I feel foolish for even doing this, but I know Matvey would do it for me. So why not return the favor, da?" Ivan started softly, pausing to think about just what he would say. Turns out, he didn't need to. The Russian, without thinking at all, began to pray for the first time in his life. "This isn't about my salvation or where I'm destined to go after my life is over. I already know where I am headed, and it isn't the same place as Matvey…"
Ivan paused so he could keep himself composed and cleared his throat, hoping that his voice wouldn't crack under the emotional strain. "I do not deserve to join him in that beautiful place that he has gone to…and that's ok. Whatever happens to me, it doesn't matter. As long as my Sunflower has made it safely to You… I am content." He trembled, doing his best to fight another breakdown. "However, I-I am hurt…and I am heartbroken…to have such…such a preciousness taken from me…"
He choked up, quietly whimpering as he bowed his head lower, as though he was ashamed of the wreck he was quickly becoming. Terrible shakes and shudders wracked him, the pain spreading throughout him. Everything hurt by this point. His eyes burned with the amount of tears he'd shed and was continuing to shed for his fallen lover; his heart ached horribly and he pleaded silently for someone to just rip it out of him already, to spare him this unbearable agony. Was it really supposed to hurt this much? Was his throat supposed to close off and restrict his flaming lungs to the air they so desired? Is this really how much pain he was to endure? Would it be like this forever?
"B-but," Ivan continued shakily, "so long as h-he is freed of worry, freed of pain, always smiling and l-laughing so beautifully…then I-I suppose that I can sleep easier, kn-knowing that never again will the awful plagues of this world touch him…" He pressed his lips against his clasped hands, tears dripping onto those hands and soon soaking them. "I only have a simple request of You and while I may not have any right, I pray that a sinner such as I will still be acknowledged." Ivan swallowed back his nervousness.
"I only want for Matvey to be taken care of and eternally happy…and to know how very much he is loved and adored by me. No one else has come as close to my heart as he, and I will never love anyone as I have loved him…I thank you so much for sending that wonderful angel to me…"
"Mon cher, I swear God has sent you for me," Matthew said quietly, snuggling close to Ivan's side.
Ivan glanced over at the smaller man and smiled, shaking his head. "Matvey, it is definitely the other way around."
A strangled, grief-stricken sound echoed throughout the room. "H-he has changed me in the smallest of ways, and I would be a miserable, despicable person if he hadn't come into my life. Now that he is gone, I feel as though I may quickly return to that former state." Voice cracking, Ivan continued, determined to make it through this, "I pray that Matvey doesn't be sad for me, for he has brought me more happiness than I could ever imagine, and perhaps someday I can find that joy again…"
Ivan clenched his hands tighter together and closed out the prayer with what he felt was the most difficult thing for him to do. "W-with confidence…I hand over the job of protecting Sunflower, a job I failed, to You. For he is so much safer in Your hands than he could've ever been in mine. Please, God, make sure he's always smiling…"
When he fell silent, Ivan was hit fully with the trauma Matthew's death had dealt him. He cried out as loudly as he could, repeatedly punching his mattress and weeping uncontrollably. He gripped at the sheets and hid his tear-stained face in the mattress, faintly catching Matthew's scent. Louder, he screamed and cried, not caring who heard. It hurt so badly. He would miss it all so much. He would miss Matthew's sweet tooth and the frightening experiments he turned his normally excellent cooking into. He would miss the birthmark on the blonde's right shoulder, the way that Matthew would lean into his touch, and especially the adorable way that Matthew would cling to him as they slept. He would miss it all so much. Matthew's laughter, smile, lovely singing voice… everything. All of that was gone now, never to be seen or heard again…
Ivan lifted his face from his bed and knotted his fingers in his silver hair, distraught. There was the bear too…that damn, annoying polar bear. He would miss Kumajirou too. The bear would chew on his boots, nip at him, hog all of the pillows and sometimes the whole bed—how a petite thing like Kumajirou managed to take up a whole bed, he didn't know—, beg for food on a regular basis, rummage through his things, and often would steal the attention of Matthew, but Ivan loved the little bear nonetheless. Kumajirou and Matthew were a packaged deal; he had no choice but to love Kuma. Even if he had been annoying at times. Now that he thought about it, he'd give anything to have that annoyance back. Life would just be so boring without the day-to-day adventures that the bear presented him with. But it wasn't like Kumajirou was only an annoyance. There were times when he and Ivan actually got along. Those times weren't as common as the irritating occurrences, but that only made them all the more special. Ivan would miss all of that.
Slowly, Ivan untangled his fingers from his hair and rose to his feet, stone-faced as he trudged to his dresser. He reached out tiredly and opened the top drawer, rummaging through it until he found the item he was searching for. Carefully, he plucked a small, velvety box out of the drawer and frowned, his heart tearing in two at what the contents of the box meant to him. Ivan opened it and stared down longingly at the ring inside, biting his lower lip harshly to hold back a whine. The diamond gem gleamed in the darkness, teasing him with that he knew that he no longer had a chance at. The Russian snapped the box closed, gaining control over his breathing as he held it close to his heart. He had been planning to propose to Matthew for some time now, but whenever the chance arose the words died on his tongue. He would break out into a sweat and nervously guide Matthew away from the subject. He'd been terrified. He knew there had been no reason to be scared, that it was foolish, but he couldn't help it. Ivan didn't want to screw it up. Matthew meant too much to him. Dejectedly, he realized that he no longer had to worry about messing up. He'd missed his chance. Matthew was dead, and the blonde would never know just how much he meant to Ivan. If only he had just gotten up the courage and asked for Matthew's hand…he wouldn't be having these regrets… and he wouldn't feel like such an idiot. He knew what Matthew's answer would have been; he wasn't stupid. But he'd never been in such an intimate relationship before, where commitment was required. He'd never been faced with the option of taking that next step. What if he did something wrong? What if he'd been wrong about how Matthew felt…? Thoughts like these raged throughout his mind every time he opened his mouth to propose to Matthew. These thoughts had stopped him from reaching for the happiness he longed for.
His heart breaking more and more, Ivan continued to hold the box close as he searched for yet another one in the drawer; one that held even more value than the first. Soon, his fingers brushed against a smooth, wooden surface and gently closed around it, pulling it out of the drawer. Ivan took a deep, ragged breath and opened this box, greeted sadly by the sight of two identical golden wedding bands…