Ivan was used to this.
Durability was one of his few strong suits- being able to take hits and come back with the same stubborn enthusiasm for chaos. That was his thing. The one thing that nobody could take from him.
But every time he stared into a mirror, or Den pulled out a particularly shiny knife, Ivan did see what had been next in line to be stolen.
And with every reflection he peered into, Ivan reached for his face, and he was becoming more aware that his glass was getting closer and closer to getting shattered. Even if he tried not to believe it.
And even if his heart told him otherwise.
YOU ARE READING
Recreyo Scenes
FanfictionDrabbles that are too short for one-shots, but I still want to get out there. Feel free to request any scenarios.
