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bibbidi bobbidi boo

@itsmariejanel / itsmariejanel.tumblr.com

☾ maria • she/her • 31 • goodreads ☾ icon by @yekkiz
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Ivan stared at the contents of his suitcase blankly, barely paying attention to what he was packing as he flicked the zip back and forth. “I didn’t think you’d be here.” He remarked, glancing over his shoulder.

“I was waiting for you-.. where’s Pixie?” Bruno asked, as though he didn’t already know the answer. “Oscar’s.” “Are you coming back, or..?” Bruno mirrored Ivan’s fidgeting, picking at the fluff on his old joggers. “I don’t know, I need t’think for a while-.. I’m goin’ away with Tilda n’ Mia for a couple weeks n’ all.”

Ivan snapped his attention back upon his luggage. It would’ve been easier if Bruno hadn’t been home, he was bound to forget something now, distracted as he was.

“Ivan, I-…” Ivan interrupted Bruno before he could continue, “Explainin’ ain’t gonna change anythin’ is it?”

Bruno fell silent, struck with inertia at the edge of the bed. He should’ve explained, pleaded, threw himself at Ivan’s feet and promised he’d never return to Oasis Springs-.. but he couldn’t bring himself to do so.

“I’m probably gonna find someplace else when I get back-.. dunno what you wanna do with the house, but I don’t want it. Y’could buy me out, I guess, or we could sell it.” Ivan filled the void with practicalities that Bruno didn’t want to envision just yet.

“We don’t have to decide anything right now.” He offered, instead. Ivan shook his head, “I ain’t gonna change my mind.” Bruno thought as much, but he still couldn’t help himself from adding, “I still love you, for what it’s worth.”

Ivan paused for an excruciating moment before sighing, deflating Bruno’s glimmer of superfluous hope, “I ain’t sure what it’s worth anymore…”

“It’s not the same as before.” Bruno pleaded, “Kaden’s-…” Ivan rose to his feet, dismissing Bruno’s words with a wave of his hand, “I don’t want nothin’ t’do with any of ‘em-.. apparently, that includes you.”

Bruno tugged at Ivan’s wrist before he could leave, manoeuvring himself between him and the door; his unusually calm, cold shoulder cut far deeper than Bruno expected it would.

“You don’t have to have anything to do with them-.. no one’s in any danger.” Ivan huffed disbelievingly, sidestepping Bruno’s efforts to stop him from leaving, “Keep tellin’ yourself that.” “It’s different with-…”

Ivan finally lost his air of composure, cutting Bruno off mid-sentence, “Was it not excitin’ enough for ya?  D’ya not feel alive unless y’pushin’ folk around, fuckin’ someone over-.. is doin’ whatever y’please the only thing that gets your blood pumpin’? Does it make life worth livin’?” Bruno blinked as Ivan confronted him, not quite expecting such a succinct breakdown of all his supposed failings.

Ivan’s steady gaze faltered somewhat once he’d said his piece though; his brief flash of anger replaced by sadness as he asked, “All this time-.. why’d y’even pretend, B?”

Bruno avoided Ivan’s gaze for a moment, unable to form a response; he hadn’t always been pretending, but as much as he hated to admit it, Ivan wasn’t too far off the mark. He didn’t particularly enjoy the lifestyle that he’d described, but it felt a hell of a lot more natural than trying to fit into this one; he wasn’t made for domestic bliss, he didn’t make Ivan happy, nor was he. They both knew he was playing pretend by now, but letting go was easier said than done, no matter how much you loved someone. In fact, love only made things more complicated.

Ivan pulled away from Bruno, punching through the silence than hung thick between them, “I just need some space, okay? Do whatever y’want with yours.” Bruno tugged desperately at Ivan’s shirt as he turned away, “Wait-.. can we just talk about everything when you get back?”

Ivan sighed morosely, offering a weak shrug, “Sure, let’s prolong the inevitable-.. what’s a few more weeks?”

Bruno hung his head as another rogue tear escaped down the side of his nose. Ivan’s demeanour felt so wearisome, so final-.. but Bruno didn’t want to let go, not that it felt fair to try and convince him to stay either.

“Don’t fuckin’ cry, B! Don’t act like this wasn’t on you!” Ivan spat, his uneven tone betraying the lump that resided in his own throat.

Bruno stuck his fingers beneath his glasses, jamming them into his eye sockets; he thought Ivan’s familiar anger would’ve consoled him, but it didn’t.

“I tried, okay? I really did-.. n’ you did too, I know y’did…” Ivan added a little more softly, as though he understood; as though it wasn’t really Bruno’s fault, like he wasn’t truly angry at him-.. even though it wasn't true.

Bruno nodded; the tips of his fingers still pressed firmly against his eyes in a vain attempt to stop the pain from overcoming him completely.

“Bruno, don’t…”

Ivan tried to pry Bruno’s fingers away from his eyes, wordlessly begging him not to make this harder than it already was.

He acquiesced, dropping his hands to his sides as Ivan gently caressed his cheek, his eyes brimming with a million different emotions at once-.. but that was Ivan, and that was the problem.

He hated, loved and felt everything with intense fervour, unapologetically wearing his heart on his sleeve for all to see; a heart so full of love and passion that Bruno felt inadequate in comparison. He couldn’t reciprocate any of it the way Ivan deserved; it would never be enough.

Hollow and empty in contrast, Bruno could never hope to give as much as Ivan was worthy of, and he was worth the world-.. but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to pretend.

Maybe just one last time…

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