A clink of a spoon brought Ivan's attention back to Alfred. Blue met violet. Alfred nodded his head toward a small crevice in the cave that would reach the outside.
Ivan stared a little. No matter his reaction, Alfred would always leave. Even if he cried, screamed, or raged Alfred would always slip away. Not even tying him up would stop the escape.
Ivan gave a short nod and started to get comfy on the cave wall. Ivan would fall asleep for.......it doesn't matter. Ivan would fall asleep and wake up right when Alfred would return. With some quit shuffling, Alfred would cuddle up next to him. Not that Ivan was complaining, Alfred was warm....so warm. And heat was a rare commodity in this cave.
"Where are you going comrade?"
Alfred glanced back before disappearing into the caverns of the cave.
With a sigh, Ivan summoned some more almost forgotten memories of his.
"Ivan, Ivan...." a melodic voice sang.
"Yes, sestra?" A high pitched, prepubescent voice replied.
"Did you feed otets?"
"Oh no! I forgot. Do not worry sestra I will feed papa right away!"
A light shuffling could be heard. It must be the young boy going to feed his papa.
The young boy dashed down a flight of stairs. The house seemed in disrepair. There was peeling, sickly green wallpaper. The wooden planks of the stairs squeaked with each step of the young boy. Small, rusted nails stuck out of the handrail.
The boy went down, down, down, the rusted set of stairs, heading towards the gaping maw of darkness.
With a grunt of effort, the boy opened what could be presumed to be a door. A slight.....almost slithering sound could be heard. Some frost was starting to gather on the boy's eyelashes. Small puffs of exhaled air could be seen. It had to be freezing.
The young boy looked into the darkness and saw his father....
Ivan awoke with a gasp. Running his fingers through his platinum hair helped calm him down. Same dream same dream.
Some soft crunches could be heard. It must be Alfred. Yep, Ivan saw a flash of molten gold hair.
Ivan let out a small gasp of air. How odd, it didn't feel cold enough for his breathe to be misting. Oh well, it was easier to just ignore things.
YOU ARE READING
Love Through the Ages
FanfictionAlfred had always been a late bloomer. Through puberty to love, he was always last. None of it clicked. Love was disgusting and icky, why would anyone like it? All it did was cause heartbreak and sorrow. Maybe with some help he could learn the ins a...
