Chapter Text
Till wakes up to loud knocking on the door and a heavy weight settled over his chest. It's warm, comforting, and he dozes back off without even noticing.
Till wakes up a second time to even louder knocking– no, pounding on the door. He groans, blearily opening his eyes and turning his head to Ivan sleeping peacefully on top of him.
He pushes them onto their sides, head nestled in Ivan’s shoulder. He recognises the feeling of the alpha still inside of him, with morning wood. The last residuals of his heat tell him to make use of it, just as he has been for the past however many days, but the incessant knocking on the door stomps out the thought.
“Ivan,” He mumbles, fingers dragging up his side. Ivan’s arms tighten in grip around Till, hips pushing into him seeking more warmth. Till moans, tempted, very tempted, but the banging is beginning to grate his ears, a headache settling in. “Ivan, the door.”
The man sleeps like the dead, and Till realises he's too hot and sweaty and aching to be dealing with this. He doesn't even know what day it is, let alone the time.
He slaps Ivan, hard across the cheek, the alpha shooting awake and jostling the both of them. “What? What's…” His words die on his tongue as his eyes settle over Till, taking in his… well, everything.
“Will you get the fucking door already?” He says through gritted teeth, eyes clenched shut, squeezing his temple. Who the fuck is at the door? Why do they sound like they'd rip it off its hinges if they were capable?
He misses the way Ivan stills, all the color draining from his face. What he does know is that Ivan doesn't move, or say anything, and he can feel his blood pressure rising.
He digs his fingers in his hair, pulling and ripping and yanking his head back. “Are you ears for decoration or something? Fucking move, I'll do it myself.”
Ivan scrambles, sliding out of Till, both of them shuddering (Till’s not sure the last time he wasn’t full or Ivan’s dick felt air) before he jumps away, back against the wall.
Till rolls out of bed– literally, rolls, a loud thump followed by a hiss, dragging with him a pair of Ivan’s basketball shorts from his bed. He struggles to put them on, and struggles more to stand back up.
Meanwhile, Ivan still sat there backed into the corner, and Till’s not sure he’s ever hated him more. Making him get up and do this shit.
Every step he takes is more sluggish than the last, Till shivering and standing in place when he feels a very obvious something dripping down his leg. He curses, using the wall, the couch, the table, everything in his path as a walking aid to get to the door that’s about to have a hole punched through it. Whoever is there is going to have hell to pay.
Till fumbles to unlock it through his aggravation, brutishly throwing it open. “Who the fuck–”
All of his indignation evaporates seeing Mizi and Sua standing there. Mizi, whose gaze travels up and down Till horrified, and Sua, with heavy bags under bloodshot eyes.
He is suddenly keenly aware of his, in polite terms, disheveled state. They don’t say anything, and neither does he. Though, he tries; his mouth opens and closes maybe three, four times, before deciding this isn’t something he can deal with and slams the door shut.
Correction, attempts to slam the door shut, and is promptly stopped by Sua’s foot. The small girl kicks the door back open, shoving past Till and walking in like she’s on a mission.
“Sua? Mi– what are you guys doing here?” He asks, covering his mouth after, surprising himself with how raspy his voice is. He turns around to follow Sua, only for Mizi to let out a sharp gasp behind him.
“Till… Your nape…?”
It took time, patience, and manhandling to pacify Sua, in which he learned she was on a mission. It’s called “Kill Ivan.”
“Calm down? You want me to calm down? Till, he–!”
“No, he didn’t! I asked him to stay!”
“You’re bonded! That’s permanent, you know!?”
“I asked him for that too!” Till screams, face flushed red in embarrassment while he holds Sua by her shoulders.
Her eyes are glossy, hands balled up in fists at her sides. “You couldn’t have asked for that.” Her tone is bitter, along with her scent. The omega was bordering on feral, the type of behavior expected of a mother fiercely protecting her pups.
He squeezes her arms in an attempt at comfort, emitting calm pheromones to show he was okay. “Neither of us were in our right mind for that. But I was aware enough when I asked him to stay.”
Sua quiets, her head hanging low. Mizi approaches her from behind, arms wrapping around her middle in a hug, and as soon as she does they both hear the girl sniffling.
“That stupid fucking dickhead should have known better.” Her voice cracks, shoulders shaking as she aggressively rubs her eyes. “Why aren’t you angry? Why don’t you want to beat the shit out of him? This is– this is serious, Till.”
Till grimaces, his hand subconsciously moving to the back of his neck. His fingers trace over the indents of Ivan’s incisors and molars, deeper grooves where his fangs broke skin. “I know it is. But, we haven’t even had the chance to talk. Our cycles just ended, and you guys showed up at the ass crack of dawn on– hold on, what day is it?”
Mizi’s face is concerned, giving him a slow blink as she tilts her head. “Till… It’s, three in the afternoon… and a Saturday…”
Till stills, even his breath halting. He’s factory resetting, his life flashing before his eyes and particular images of the sticky notes his mom left in the fridge playing in his mind.
“Shit.”
His eyes dart around the kitchen, living, and dining room. He’s pretty sure he remembers Ivan swiping everything on the counters off onto the ground when he put Till on it, the creak of the table when he was bent over it, and he knows there are some suspicious stains on the couch, and his mom’s recliner. His mom loves that recliner.
“Shit.”
Till’s performance in convincing the girls to help him clean up his various messes involved a lot of pleading, begging, and bargaining. He swore he’d take care of everything that involved body fluids, which was definitely the majority.
They’ve opened up all the windows and have every single fan running, the place in desperate need of some fresh air. The only place they couldn’t get to was the bathroom, which Ivan had locked himself inside of since the girls arrived.
There isn’t a single sound coming out of it, and Till is concerned, but at the moment time is of the essence. Mizi was under the table (after Till had cleaned up the sticky mess on top. Mizi smiled at her hand with dead eyes when she touched it, and Till promised to pay for one of her and Sua’s date night’s as an apology) tightening up the loose screws while Sua reorganized the countertops and shelves.
Till had scrubbed the couch cushions until they frayed, cursing under his breath wondering why they don’t have covers. And now, he was running back and forth from his bedroom to the laundry room, hauling his bedding and all the clothes in his bed.
He had asked the girls if they could bring a basket, to which Mizi frowned while Sua very blatantly scowled in disgust. “You’re either still in heat or out of your fucking mind if you think I’m going in there.” “Sua, be nice.”
The house was starting to look a little less awful, and before the sun began to wane, too. Till’s sweating, running his fingers through his hair as he finally begins to allow himself to loosen up the slightest amount. “Does it look okay?” He asks, still feeling jittery and anxious.
Sua and Mizi were in similar states, Mizi having even tied her hair up at some point. They glance at him, doubtful. “Uhh… I feel like there's still a pretty big issue…” Mizi mumbles, scratching her chin.
Till panics, instantly going on alert while his eyes scan over everything. “What? Where? My room? I know you guys don’t want to go in there. I’ll take care of it— hold on, no, we didn’t do it in my fucking mom’s room. I’m not insane–”
“No, Till, not that.” Sua huffs, closing her eyes in irritance. “We’re talking about you. Have you looked in a mirror yet? Just putting a shirt on isn’t going to cut it.”
Till blushes, now very conscious of every part of him that’s sore, that aches or tingles. He clears his throat, crossing his hands over his chest in metaphorical coverage. “I… I’ve got some makeup…” He murmurs, averting his eyes.
“I mean, that should work for now! I can come over in the morning for the next few days until all the, um, bruises, and stuff, go down. But, that’s not going to work in the long run. For the mark, you know…” Mizi says, her voice sounding a little more cheery despite still feeling stiff and awkward.
Till nods, rubbing his neck and the color in his face dying out some. Sua gives a curt hum as she makes her way down the hallway, over to the bathroom door and kicking it hard. She yells at the man behind the door to get out, throwing in a fair share of swears and insults to the mix.
Till stumbles back, putting his hand over his heart and feeling it beat faster when he hears the click of the lock and the knob jiggling. Sua’s voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater when the door creaks open, fading completely as Ivan lumbers out.
He only put his pants on, similar to Till. He’s wearing the same jeans he wore when he first arrived, while his upper half was adorned in long red streaks and the occasional indentation of teeth; his shoulders, his biceps, and his back. God, his back. Till turns red, sputtering until Ivan turns his gaze to him.
His eyes are dark, tired, tearstained. He looks harrowed, his shoulders low and lips drawn in a thin line. Even Sua went silent looking at him, her own gaze hardening as he pushes past her, walking toward Till.
Till stutters, taking a step back. “Ivan–” He starts, but it turns out the alpha wasn’t coming toward him. Actually, he was going right through him. Till pauses as the anger from the affront settles in, and by the time it does, him turning around and ready to curse, the front door was slamming shut.
The room stills, all of them in different states of confusion, not daring to move. It’s painfully silent outside of the hum from the fans, Till’s eyes remaining on the door in disbelief.
“I– Um.. I’ll go check on him.” Mizi says, breaking the tough air and following behind the man out of the house.
It allows Till to stop looking at the door, blinking rapidly as he forces his thoughts back in order. “The fuck was that about?” He scoffs, turning around harshly and heading to the bathroom.
It takes a moment, though Sua follows after. She leans on the doorframe, watching as he stomps his way through the small area, pacing back and forth. He feels dizzy, his hands suddenly turning clammy and his throat dry.
He stops, faces the mirror, and god is he a mess. Skin marred a mix of deep reds, purples, and blues, the oldest ones turning a muddy green color. Some are hickeys, while others are clearly bites, the dimples of Ivan’s canines still present.
They extend all the way down to his waist, and he knows there are more under his shorts. They’re sore, they hurt, the more he looks at them the more they start to itch. He feels bloated, and he wonders if all of that is Ivan too.
“Till.”
The girl's voice instantly takes his attention, violet eyes staring at teal. “Your makeup?” She reminds, giving a small tilt of her head and nodding toward the closet.
Till takes a moment, then nods. “Right,” He nods again, “Right.” He turns around, peeling his eyes off the mirror and rummaging through the closet.
“Seriously, I’m the one fucked up here. How come he’s the one crying?” Till derides, his fingers fumbling throughout the closet. He feels like he’s moving on autopilot, and failing miserably, cursing under his breath as he drops the small drawer of brushes and they scatter on the floor.
“You can cry too, you know.” Sua quips, unmoving from her position. Till glares at her, on his knees on the floor. “It’s better to get it out of the way now so you don’t ruin your makeup.”
“Fuck off.” He growls without realising it, his eyes quickly rising as he snaps his head back to the floor. “Sorry, I’m just… tired.”
Sua’s gaze remains steadily on him, getting heavier. “When you’re having sex, your body naturally releases high amounts of oxytocin, dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins. Additionally, when you’re in heat, you’re releasing enkephalins, norepinephrine, anandamide, and obviously estrogen. You produced an extreme amount of these, but once your heat ended, all of them plummeted.”
Till blinks, slowly, tied between frustration and apathy. He sighs, shaking his head before going back to picking up the brushes, putting them back in their container and standing up. “I don’t even know half of what the fuck you just said, Sua.” He mumbles, rummaging around on a higher shelf. Where the fuck did he put ointment?
“Oxytocin, dopamine, serotonin, and endorphins are happiness hormones. It should be obvious what happens when your happiness hormones suddenly deplete.” She continues, much to Till’s chagrin.
“Sua, can we please not–”
“Anandamide is responsible for the general “high” and wooziness you feel during your heat, boosting your fertility along with estrogen and FSH. Enkephalins act as a pain reliever so you can receive a knot comfortably, and norepinephrine keeps your energy levels high. Once these drop, it can lead to symptoms like withdrawal, depression, anxiety, fatigue, headaches, moodswings, etcetera.”
Till groans, about to plead with her once more to just stop talking before knocking down a bag. Something definitely shattered in that bag, alongside the towels on the top shelf falling down after.
Till closes his eyes, taking a slow, deep breath. He wants to punch something (Sua). He wants to hurt someone (Sua). He wants to sow her (Sua’s) mouth shut so he can just have a minute to fucking think.
“Sua. Can you, please, just tell me what the fuck you’re talking about.” He says, moving robotically to put the rest of his things on the counter.
Of course, it’s not that easy. Sua has to go about this the long-winded and irritating way. The way that makes Till’s blood pressure rise and his hands ball in fist.
“This is why aftercare is so important. Especially being bonded, when your body is depleted of everything that makes it feel good, it should be evident that you — or rather, your omega, would seek for something that can provide those things and take care of you. In this case, Ivan.”
Till thinks he’s going to scream, his face feeling hot as he slams his hand into the countertop. “God fucking damnit, Sua! Just tell me what the fuck you’re saying! I’m starting to get pissed off over here because you only want to speak in riddles and your fucking girlfriend isn’t here to translate for you! Can you speak like a normal fucking person for once?”
He doesn’t know how he ended up in the other omega’s face, but she doesn’t flinch. She keeps her eyes on his, head craned up to do so. “I’m saying, that, if you want to cry right now, it doesn’t say anything about you. It’s just biology, so, it’s okay.”
Till freezes, and his eyes are already burning. He chews his bottom lip, head shooting back down to the ground and turning away from her. “‘m not gonna cry.” He mumbles under his breath, tears pricking in his eyes.
“Mhm.”
“I’m not.”
“Okay.”
Till sniffles, and seconds later his vision is blurry, little drops plopping on the floor as his shoulders shake. He sucks in a sharp, wheezy breath. Sua steps in, wrapping her arm around his and pressing her head against his shoulder. He chokes, sobs, aggressively wipes his face, all the while Sua rubbing his back with small, cool hands.
“Why—” He starts, but he doesn’t want to ask. He hunches over, covering his mouth, salty tears dripping over his fingers. This isn’t personal, it’s just a biological reaction. But why did he leave?
“I already said, he’s a stupid fucking dickhead.” Sua says, knocking their heads together. She takes his hands, putting their wrists together and her scent on top of Ivan's. “It'll be really bad if your mom comes home to you crying like this and all you smell like is Ivan.”
“I’m not crying.” He says, crying. “Don't tell Mizi.”
“Done.” Sua says, taking a step back. Till brings himself to look in the mirror again, and the difference is almost jarring. He touches his neck almost in shock, but the soreness reminds him they didn’t just magically vanish. He can still feel the grooves and indents when he runs his fingers along.
“Thanks, Sua…” He murmurs. Besides the few marks covered up on his jaw (seriously, was Ivan trying to eat him?), his face remains largely untouched. His eyes are still red and puffy, tear stains evident. “Fuck, I should have showered first…”
“That would just make you cry more.”
He gives her a weak glare, lips in a pout. “Why?”
“Because then you would have washed away all of Ivan’s pheromones, and you’d be miserable.” Sua helpfully provides, Till clicking his tongue, rolling his eyes as his arms cross over his chest.
“Fuck you.” He grumbles, as all arguments seem futile.
He makes his way over to his room, Sua following and sitting on the edge of the clean bed, not trying at all to hide her disgust. Despite the lack of bedding and clothes and his window open to air the place out, it still smells distinctly like Till and Ivan, Till’s shoulders unwittingly relaxing.
He changes into something decent and warm, crawling past her and pushing himself in the corner of his bed. His nose twitches, catching the scent of vetiver and finding a blanket he missed, tucked between the bedframe and the wall.
He stuffs his face in it, taking a deep breath. He doesn’t notice how he wraps it around his limbs, cuddling with it until Sua groans.
“You’re a creep.”
“Shut up.” He sniffs, burying his face deeper in the blanket. “…I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier.”
Sua doesn’t say anything right away, but her rand ruffles through his hair. “You were mentally and emotionally unstable, so I suppose it’s forgiven.”
Till would roll his eyes if they hadn’t fluttered shut at the combo of Ivan’s scent and the fingers running through his hair. If he wants to pretend that it’s Ivan fingers, he’s not going to say anything. Sua said it was just a biological reaction, so this much is okay.
He thinks he could possibly doze off like this, and Sua wouldn’t mind. That is, until the front door opens.
Till immediately jumps to sit, his and Sua’s heads both turning toward the bedroom door. There’s a mix of anticipation, anger, and hesitance building up in his chest. He leans forward, before catching the scent of mint and matcha and all of it depletes.
He lays back down, face first before he even sees her, catching the way Sua casts her gaze to him, a look akin to pity, out the corner of his eye.
“Till? I’m home. Oh, Sua.” Io’s voice is gentle and soft, believing Till is sleeping as she stands at the doorway. “How is he doing?”
Till’s eyes close tighter, shutting away the burn, Sua slowly rubbing his back.
“He’s okay, Miss. Just tired.”
He hears the thump of her feet on the ground as she gets closer. Her fingers tuck his hair behind his ear, out of his face. He cracks an eye open, his mom smiling at him lovingly. “Till… If you need anything, just tell me, okay?” She bends down, kissing the top of his head, then pauses.
Till and Sua both tense, Till’s skin bristling as he hears the very subtle sniff come from Io, her loving smile faltering.
She stands back up, lingering there for a moment. Time might have slowed down as the moment feels to stretch for infinity, Till’s heartbeat echoing in his ears. “…Is that Ivan’s blanket?”
Till glances at her, then at Sua. He doesn’t trust his own voice not to crack, so he nods his head instead.
Io giggles. “Oh, that’s so sweet. All of your friends are looking out for you, huh?”
Sua huffs an awkward laugh, and Till feels sick. His head feels like it's spinning and soon he'll vomit nothing but bile while they talk back and forth. After a minute or two, his door clicks shut, and Sua lets out a little breath.
“What are the chances your mom tries to kill Ivan when she finds out?”
“I think she’d kill both of us.”
Sua snorts, picking up her phone. “Mizi says Ivan dropped her off at home, she’ll come back over tomorrow. Oh, and she slapped him a couple times.”
Till’s head darts up, wide eyed and in shock. “Mizi did?”
She nods, a pleased tilt to her lips as she texts back. It reminds Till he hasn’t picked up his phone at all in the past week, and he can’t help but wonder where it is now.
It takes little time to find it, halfway tucked under the bed. When he opens it, his eyes go wide. “Holy fucking shit, Sua, 233 missed calls?!”
Sua freezes up, her lips pursed as she quickly averts her gaze. “…I was worried about you.” She quietly supplies, and Till is laughing.
At least, he is until Sua starts to tear up, and so instead he's sitting up in bed next to her, rubbing her shoulder. “That dumb motherfucker is the only one with a stupid car. I wanted to come over earlier.”
“Well… If it makes you feel any better, the mark had already happened like, maybe thirty or forty minutes after he got here.”
“…Freaks. You're both freaks.” She says with a sniffle, and Till is laughing again while Sua pushes him away.
The two settle, Sua deciding to spend the night and, with Mizi, now on video call, they agree to have a sleepover together tomorrow. Till finally gets to check his messages, first going to his and Ivan’s.
He was occasionally a little doubtful, but he sees clearly now that the text he intended for Sua went to Ivan instead. The alpha sent a wall of text as follow-up, even when he said he was on the way to drop off his notes and with a treat.
He can't help but smile reading the messages, and dichotomously his chest feels tight at the same time. He can feel himself getting frustrated again, so he opts to just watch videos instead.
The two omegas would have fit on the bed together just fine, but while Sua tolerated sitting on the mattress, she absolutely refused to sleep on it. Which leads to Till digging through the garage to blow up the air mattress, putting it against his bed frame when they decide to call it for the day.
Even after turning the light off, the two kept on chattering mindlessly, whispering when they were sure Io was asleep and giggling at little jokes and videos they showed each other.
He thinks maybe another hour went by just like that, and then Sua was putting her phone on one of the chargers and getting comfy with some of Io's spare bedding (that was also something she refused to take from Till, even with them being freshly washed).
Till tosses and turns, and he realises this is the first time in almost a week that he's slept without Ivan there. It feels like it's been years, but also that he was gone too quick. He puts his hand over his heart without thinking, feeling the soft rhythm.
“Hey, Sua?” He turns over, peering over the edge of the bed to find the girl already looking at him, like she was expecting it.
“Yes, Till?”
“Do you think Ivan hates me?” It's the only thing that seems to make even a semblance of sense. Ivan may have gone into pheromone shock from the very beginning, and none of it was his own choice. Was he disgusted when he woke up sober for the first time?
Sua glares at him, looking like she might throw something at him, but Till's expression is so earnest and worried she settles for a sigh instead. “Did he say something that made you think he hates you?”
Till shakes his head as he hugs a pillow to his chest. “He said he loves me.”
Sua doesn't say anything, but she also doesn't seem too surprised by that. “Okay… Do you realise how you're not making any sense right now?”
Till flops back over onto his back with a groan, covering his face. “I'm saying– it doesn't make sense, Sua. I know he didn't mean that, so how can I be sure he actually…liked, spending my heat with me? I mean, it's understandable that he regrets being bonded. But, I'm his best friend, or at least I thought I was, and he walked out without saying a word to me.”
Till pants, and ranting is only beginning to make him feel more anxious, rather than alleviating his mind.
Sua sits up next to him, her chin on the bed. “Why do you think he didn't mean it?”
Till pauses, thinks, then blushes as he averts his eyes. “Um… Can I tell you something you don't want to hear?”
He barely looks at her, but Sua is thoroughly unamused. She rubs her temples as though mentally preparing herself, letting out a strong huff through her nose followed by an exasperated breath. “Fine.”
“He said he wanted to get me pregnant. Like, a lot.”
Till is then smothered by a pillow, and Sua, despite her frame, is very strong when she wants to be. Till starts with taps, then frantically smacks her arm when he feels himself getting lightheaded.
“Why the fuck would you tell me that.”
“Because, Sua! He obviously didn't mean that — no one wants to be a teen parent, and Ivan– he’s good with kids, but that doesn’t mean he wants them. I'm saying that I know he wasn't thinking straight, so him c-confessing to me… wasn't genuine.”
Sua still carries a heavily disgusted expression, but rolls her eyes as she settles back down.
“And, I also told him to–”
“Till.” She says, a threatening, low and dangerous tone. “Whatever you're about to say. Don't.”
Till sighs as he lies down, dramatically so, turning his back to her. Then, a second later, he's facing her again. “So does he hate me?”
“You're so fucking stupid. No, he doesn't hate you. He's just an idiot. You're made for each other.”
Till frowns, but when Sua doesn't say any more, he takes that as the end of their conversation. Strangely, just the smallest amount of reassurance from Sua, who is known for her bluntness, makes him feel a little lighter.
The next day when Mizi arrives, bright and early with snacks for all three, they gather in the living room with blankets and pillows, closing all the curtains and put the TV on. They tend to hang out like this often, of course with the inclusion of Ivan. This time, though, Till can tell the girls are trying to get his mind off said man.
Mizi talks more, louder, faster, over the movie they’ve each seen at least a dozen times — Scream, they’re having a marathon, which Till knows is also to cheer him up — playing in the background. Sua is constantly checking on him, refreshing his snacks, asking if he wants more sweets (Till always says yes).
His mom as well even came out, sitting on her recliner (Till tries not to stare too much or audibly gulp when it clicks, reminding himself that it always does that) asking questions about each scene that Sua answers with practiced ease. She sounds like one of those movie recap channels, and she has it down so perfectly you’d think she was in the studio while they were filming.
With the curtains drawn, they don’t even notice when it does start to get late until Io offers to buy them pizza. They're in the middle of arguing, yet again, why Scream 2 was better than the original 1996 version, while Scream 3 was playing in the background.
“The original is a classic, for sure, but the second is more suspenseful, dramatic, like the scene with–”
“–Randy on the phone, I know, Till, you bring it up every time.”
“Because it's a good fucking point!”
“Do you guys have to argue over this every time?”
Till never anticipated that between the two, he would be the one to chase. Nor that Ivan would be so good at hiding.
It would make sense that the person who has your schedule down to the minute would know how to avoid you, but regardless, it's still getting on Till's nerves.
Monday morning, as promised, after staying the night, Mizi helped Till clean up, telling Io that she was doing her makeup with Till. With the bathroom door locked, Till did his normal makeup in the mirror, which consisted of concealer a shade lighter than his skin, eyeshadow and eyeliner, while Mizi worked behind him to cover up his neck.
Till looks at himself, most of the marks covered except for the ones that would be under his shirt. He lets out a little breath, before aggressively rubbing his eyes, smudging the already messy job.
“You’re gonna get wrinkles doing that.”
“Shut up.”
Sua and Mizi didn't pack, and Anakt High doesn't have a dress code, so that leads to the couple going to school in a pair of Till's pajamas. Mizi thinks it's cute seeing Sua drowning in one of Till's shirts, while his pants fit Mizi like a glove, somehow or another.
They make it to school fine after Till gets dressed – baggy and ripped jeans with chains around them, layered shirts, studded cuffs, and a chunky spiked collar that leads to Mizi getting pouty.
“Why are you covering up my hard work?”
“What if the teeth marks are still visible?”
“Do you really think they would be? It’s been three days for some of them, and almost a week for the majority.”
“You don’t understand, Mizi. It literally felt like I was getting mauled. He–”
“Okay!! Whatever you say, Till!”
Till felt like he was holding his breath for the first half of the day, getting tense every time someone walked near him and easing up only after they passed. Once lunchtime, he bolts. He waits at the front of the cafeteria, only sitting down once the girls meet up with him.
He feels antsy, glancing up at the hall every few minutes to see if Ivan was here yet. What would he do after ghosting him over the weekend? Act like nothing happened? Say it was an accident and didn’t mean anything? (a little late for that, Till rolls his eyes in his head.) Would he pull Till aside to talk separately? Maybe he just needed some time to get his head in order.
As it turns out, Till will never know the answer to that.
Since Ivan never shows up.