Everytime I try to focus on something I see this strange red circle, which is vaguely alarming. Hence the delay in the update and my works in general. Or maybe because I just woke up or something idk

Sorry for the month wait 🙏🙏🙏 this chapter isn't the best but regardless I hope you guys can comment along the way for motivation 💗

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PAST

MONTHS TURNED INTO YEARS and soon Y/n was sixteen.

"Get up," his mother hissed angrily, pulling at his arm. "We are leaving."

Y/n blinked his eyes in confusion. In front of him a luggage bag was open, clothes and miscellaneous items strewn about messily. Y/n couldn't recognise the state of his own home—somehow his mother had always kept it neat, but now it was ruined. There were pieces of broken furniture and wood lying about, a pile of dirtied shoes, along with broken vases.

Y/n started to panic.

"But—to where?" He finally managed to say, his voice drying. "Mother, where are we going? Where is Father?"

"Your father is dead,"  His mother spat, "I don't know where that man went."

His father...he left? He died? That couldn't be. Yet his mother couldn't be lying—today she was sober. On the extremely rare times where alcohol wasn't her friend, she would hug him loosely and tuck her head into his neck. Frequently she smelt of cigarettes and smoke, but there were moments where Y/n could remember a faint scene of vanilla perfume. Those days her temper would be soft and her nails wouldn't dig into his skin.

"What? Where..."

"Stop asking so many questions!" His mother eventually yelled at him, bringing down a harsh hand onto his head, making Y/n's face sting with pain as he dropped onto the floor. "Just do as I say. If I had my way, then..."

No. Andrei, Y/n thought, but I need Andrei. I promised him I would stay. I can't—

"No," Y/n started to shake his head and beg, "no, Mother. Let's not move. I have a friend...I have a friend here," he clutched at the fabric of his clothes and whimpered like a wounded dog, his voice beginning to crack. "Don't make me do this to him."

"Friend?" His mother scoffed. "Friend, you say?  You mean to say that the monster of the Ivanov family is your friend? Don't make me laugh now."

"He's not a monster," Y/n said quietly, not saying it too loud for fear his father would hit him again. "Andrei is my friend."

"And he is a monster in the making. All of a sudden his eye had managed to heal...and now he shows a tremendous skill to evade all assassinations targeted towards him so far—and not by pure luck, Y/n. Do you know how he managed to avoid it all? Tell me, Y/n. How did your dear friend do it?"

Y/n swallowed. Truth to be told, Andrei never told him that. It was like there was a big wall between the two of them at times when he never spoke about family matters.

"I don't know," he whispered.

"Yes, exactly. He killed them. He is only...twelve? Thirteen?" His mother said carelessly. She was three years off. "And yet he has already taken the life of someone. You are foolish to think someone as powerful as him would ever want to be friends with you."

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"I like you," Andrei said softly and affectionately. He pressed his lips onto Y/n's cheek as the (h/c) haired boy's cheeks reddened. "I really like you, Y/n. So don't leave me, alright?"

"...I won't," Y/n promised, relaxing in his hug, touched by the warm gesture. "I really don't."

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"He is my friend." Y/n persisted stubbornly.

"Stupid brat. Why did I bother explaining things to you?"

"Can I at least say goodbye to him?" The tears started to slip from Y/n's eyes. "Please?"

"Then you go. See if he's even present. With all the murdering going on..."

Murdering?

Y/n pushed that thought out of his brain and focused on a different question.

"Why are we leaving?"

"You ask too many questions." His mother snarled at him, "shut up."

Y/n did so. But he was grateful, at least, for the opportunity to see Andrei—he would explain the situation to him to prevent any misunderstanding, to ensure that he wasn't breaking his promise, he would return—and that after this he would find a way to make sure they would really stay, side by side. Y/n spent so much time making sure that his promise wouldn't be broken but here he was and it was happening.

His legs, though battered and bruised, still managed to move. In fact, Y/n ran faster than he had ever did in his life, his legs spinning and spinning and spinning—and when he finally came across the garden in which he had first saw Andrei, he stopped. Climbing over to the window had become a task easy for Y/n after so  many times of doing so. He clambered inside, surprised to find that it was unlocked, before he stood inside.

There was no one.

"Andrei?" Y/n called out, surprised. There were still tears stains on his cheek. "Are you..."

Not a single answer. Usually Andrei would run to him and embrace him, before the blonde would offer him snacks and tell him all about his day. And now the lights were off, and the bed was empty.

Y/n stood there feeling like a fool.

"...Andrei. Where are you?"

Then you go. See if he's even present. Y/n thought back to his mother's words and stilled, his body becoming painfully straight. His posture turned stiff. He tried once again to call out for him.

"Andrei? I'm here," his tone was wobbly. "I'm here. I thought you said you would be waiting for me."

There was no reply again. It was silent. Panic started to rush in Y/n as he recalled his mother's words—there has been a string of murders lately. Surely, surely—this could not possibly mean that Andrei was dead, right? The table and bed was cold, like they had not been slept in previously. The last time Y/n had managed to slip out of his home to meet Andrei was five days ago.

Quickly thinking, Y/n grabbed a piece of paper and pen from the desk. In it there were still scribbled answers from when Y/n taught him when he was blind—Y/n hastily ripped a piece from it.

Dear Andrei,

I went to check in on you but you weren't here. I'm sorry, but I think my father is making me leave—but I promise I'll be back. He refuses to tell me details, but I won't break my word. Sorry this letter was short. I meant to talk with you properly, but I hope you are safe

Y/n

He placed it carefully on the pillow. Soon the tears started to flow freely from his face as Y/n started to sob—who knew when he would be back? Who knew if this was permanent? Y/n wished that his knees wouldn't be bruised from the times he kept falling for tricks and false promises.

"I'm sorry, Andrei..." he wept, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry..."

Andrei was scared of being abandoned. And now Y/n was giving that to him. Soon this whole relationship would be nothing but an amalgamation of broken promises and flowing tears and hands cupped to each others and whispered secrets—nothing more. Just a blissful memory. Just a childhood friend, a first love.

Soon this would be another fissure in Y/n's life, where the cracks had expanded too far and the universe would show him that Y/n would never be loved, never. And soon Y/n would know that he was a being that truly didn't deserve the warmth or affection of anyone. His mother had gave birth to him with a scream and the screaming only continued. Even her silence had been loud. Hysterical. And now she was gone—having abandoned him, and in turn Y/n would abandon Andrei.

Y/n slipped out of the window, exhaling. The tears didn't stop and neither did his mother's hits  later on that day.

A gust of wind blew through the opened window and the note floated down, before being crushed by feet.

—

"The Young Master..he has—he has—!"

Blood splattered on Andrei's cheek. It was laughable, really: that there were times where he felt so inhumane. One moment he had been with Y/n, feeling light, happy, alive—and now that feeling was gone; replaced with a certain disgust yet satisfaction with his own actions. Finally—years later he had finally obtained his revenge. His sight had recovered fully, with Y/n's help. All that remained would be taking control of the household, getting rid of all of those who would oppose him—

His brother, father, and mother laid dead on the ground. It was funny to see how only in death had they stopped hurling insults at him. They were the kind of people who held within them cold, icy anger—and Andrei was the same.  But that anger tethered towards them morphed into feelings of affection and sweetness when he thought of Y/n.

Y/n, he thought, I will go to my room and he will come. Then I will relay the good news. Y/n didn't like blood, Andrei knew, so he would bathe and wash first.

He will be happy. I can help him escape from his father. He will be only mine, and I will be his, alone.

Andrei was pleased at his plan. The five and a half years of meeting Y/n truly had been blessed.

Yet it was too late.

The note was found on the gardens and the bed was still warm at where Y/n had sat, awaiting him. But when Andrei ran out to the house in fury, all he saw was emptiness and spareness.

"Where was the family who lived here?" He demanded angrily, "where are they?"

"T-They left, Pakhan," a man trembled. "I saw the mother drag the kid out just now."

"What?"

"The mother left when her husband was killed. He owed us money—so—"

"So you killed him?" Andrei's voice was dangerously soft. "You killed my beloved's father, knowing it would drive his mother and him away? I wanted to do it myself. Why did you take that pleasure from me, you ignorant fool?"

"Please, Pakhan, I did not know. I really didn't know," the man was shaking now, weeping in front of him. The gun was pointed right at his head. Andrei never missed.

"Yes, you do not know," Andrei hissed. "You do not know where Y/n or his mother have gone. You do not know who his mother is, and her true identity. You do not know that Y/n's father's debt does not apply to him. You do not know that you weren't supposed to kill his father. I was, after I would first ensure Y/n was safe. You are stupid. So fucking stupid."

He rarely cursed. He never did, actually. But now they flowed out of his mouth in a fit of rage.

"And now where is Y/n? He is at the hands of his venomous mother who will poison his mind. He may die. I may never find him." Andrei felt himself get angrier and angrier each time he spoke, and his last words were a shout. "I may never find him!"

See, he had been wrong. He didn't have the icy anger, after all. Truth was Andrei hadn't been angry for so long, being with Y/n. Being with Y/n calmed him down. Relieved him. But no. He had the bubbling kind of anger, where the feelings boiled over to the top and imploded.

Gunshot after gunshot. Andrei sank to his knees afterwards and started to despair, grabbing fistfuls of his hair. He felt like he was growing crazy. Mad. So, so angry. So angry he could not breathe. And part of that rage was directed at himself—how? How could he have let Y/n go?

His rage was a diamond stalactite sharp, clear, reflective. Tough to break. And now it shattered.

Y/n was gone. He was gone. He was gone. He was gone.

"Where are you?" Andrei whispered under his breath, tortured. "Where are you, Y/n?"

He did not stop searching for him. He would not stop searching for Y/n, until he found him.

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PRESENT

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Andrei's fever had broke, his injuries had recovered. It had been a miracle to see the Tsar sitting upright, perfectly fine.

"...You got well," Y/n murmured, sitting on the chair opposite the bed in which Andrei laid on. "Are you well? Do you feel well?"

The golden sunlight streamed in. Moss was at the window's edge. Andrei had never closed the window, not even once. The note lay in the drawer and so many times Andrei would clutch the note and look out of the window, waiting for Y/n to clamour in so he could see Y/n and simply love him. Take him in his arms. Kiss the happy tears off his face. There were so many things he wanted to do, that he couldn't. And even now he had to hold back the avalanche of feelings Andrei held for him.

"Good," Andrei's smile stretched on his face and was practically dazzling. "I believe I'm well enough to head outdoors. What do you think?"

Y/n felt the hollow feeling within him again: the dead realisation that he loved Andrei—he adored him. With each memory came a new affection for him and now those feelings had morphed into a monster Y/n didn't want to face. His past had been less than desirable to remember when it came to his parents.

A hand clasping his hand made Y/n realized he hadn't answered.

"It won't be dangerous?"

"It's adorable to see you worry so much for me," Andrei cooed, planting a kiss on Y/n's cheek. It was just like Y/n remembered. "It won't. Perhaps we can just head to the park, or to a place nearby."

Y/n instinctively leaned into his touch before he broke away. There was, for the briefest of a second, a frown on Andrei's lips when Y/n moved from him. And Y/n immediately quirked his lips up into a smile to mend the damage. He didn't want—he didn't want to just steer clear from Andrei, considering that they were close, at least—but he couldn't...

Andrei loved him. Y/n loved him. A person might have looked at them and asked—why don't you two just date each other? Why don't you two just marry each other? But it was much, much harder than saying it. Loving someone didn't just mean physical touch and affection—it meant being scared that perhaps those feelings would be lost. And Y/n had never been taught how to love, with his absent parents—now he didn't know where to place this feelings.

"Sure," Y/n managed to reply, "we can do that."

"Are you alright?"

"...What?" Y/n blinked. "I should be asking you that question."

"You just seemed a little off, Moy Sladkiy," Andrei murmured, tracing patterns on Y/n's palm. It was ticklish, and a genuine smile formed on Y/n's face. "If you don't want to go out, then..."

"No, no," Y/n said hastily, "we can. Fresh air would be nice. I'm fine."

"Then we can go shopping too," Andrei suggested, "I owe you, after all. Before you left I promised to give you everything. And I've always wanted to shop with you—get you new clothes, buy whatever catches your eye..."

Y/n's cheeks reddened in embarrassment. "Shouldn't we be buying you things? As celebration for your recovery?"

"Ah, but you see. Buying you things will make me delighted." Andrei hummed, "so if you want to truly make my day, you will come with me and allow yourself to be spoiled."

Y/n gave a long sigh.

He couldn't very well refute, right?

"Sure."

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How was it 🙏🙏