Ivan Irlbeck was an enigma.

From the moment we met, I knew something was different about him, something unique about the way he moved through life. He had an intensity to his gaze, a burning within his icy blue irises that unnerved me and piqued my... curiosity.

The guy kind of creeped me out- and I was smitten.

Although those were my surface level perceptions of him, he became so much more than pale skin and striking black hair.

The responsibility of upholding many of the conversations fell onto me in the very beginning, but I never minded. Ivan would listen more intently than anyone ever had- even Anna and my own parents. He was so good at listening, that he appeared to be listening even when things were... silent.

I could say with definitive truth that the moment I began to fall deeply for him was at the lake in the dwindling days of my first summer in Washington. My feelings for Ivan no longer felt appropriate to be labeled as merely a crush- it was something much more by then.

When I ran my hands over his skin as the sun bathed him in light, my mind was flooded with parallels to angels and celestial beings whose beauty was so magnificent- it couldn't be explained by anything else than other worldly.

I had yet to realize how difficult of a guy Ivan was to unravel, it seemed like anytime I had made progress, he would do something to completely throw me off. It pissed me off more times than I could even count, but for every time I felt like ripping my hair out over his antics, I came back wanting even more.

I just wanted to be close to him, to know him like a partner would.

One would think that as time went on, and after we had made our relationship official, I would know Ivan like I knew the back of my own hand. Nothing could have been farther from the truth.

I didn't know what the fuck was going on that night.

The end of a road had been reached; nothing I knew about Ivan was serving any explanation as to why my boyfriend was rocking back and forth on the couch, biting at his cuticles until they became raw and bloody, eyes flicking around in fear.

I had exhausted all ideas, and was forced to face the harsh reality of my insufferable helplessness regarding the current situation. I didn't know how to soothe him, or guide him through processing information as grave as what he had received regarding his only parent.

It should've been the obvious explanation, of course he was grieving, but deep within my heart I knew something was very wrong- that this had become too large for me to handle. And that saddened me deeply.

I felt as though I had failed the fragile boy sitting across from me. I knew I had to bring it to up to Mrs. Clarissa the following day, as much as it hurt to admit I couldn't help my own boyfriend.

The movie that played quietly in the background was simply a reminder of another sad attempt of mine to make things even remotely okay again.

"What are you thinking about?" I asked Ivan, leaning forward to try and catch his gaze.

"Huh? Oh, nothing. I don't know," he murmured.

"Why don't we get some water and head to bed, alright? You must be really tired," I suggested. A glimmer of hope surfaced in my chest as he allowed me to help him stand and even hold his hand as I guided us to the kitchen.

"Here's your glass, Ivan," I said, holding it out to him. He shuffled forward to grab it so I could turn back around to get my own.

As I was reaching for another glass from the cupboard, a piercing crash echoed throughout the kitchen, startling me so badly that I smacked my hand against the upper shelf within the cabinet, inhaling a sharp breath as I whipped around to assess the situation.

Ivan was frozen in the middle of the kitchen, shattered glass around his feet as his attention was hyperfixed on the kitchen window. You'd think someone was out there brandishing a knife by the way his face was twisted in horror.

He had the expression of someone facing their own demise.

Everything seemed to devolve into chaos after that, and I was running on mere adrenaline, my brain going blank and my body feeling numb. Every time I blinked, I was doing something I didn't recall ordering myself to do. Pulling my boyfriend away from the window, telling my mom to call Mrs. Clarissa in a fearful voice I didn't recognize as my own, trying to keep Ivan calm. . .

I just hoped I was doing all of the right things, given that I was completely clueless.

And scared out of my mind.

The sequence of events that had occurred immediately after that glass hit the floor came and went at incomprehensible speeds, and I knew I wasn't processing anything.

That'll hit me hard soon enough.

When Mrs. Clarissa told the shaking boy in my arms that we were going to the hospital, I wanted to cry.

I couldn't help but feel like this was somehow my fault.

I knew something was different about Ivan from the very beginning, I should have known better than to think I had control battling a beast which was unknown to me. I thought I was helping him with his grief, I believed merely being there for him would be enough.

How foolish I was.

Something that will plague my dreams for a long time was the face Ivan made when they told us we had to leave him- that he would be alone.

The second blow of the night, and I just wanted to cry.

I was in a daze as Mrs. Clarissa guided me back to the waiting room with a gentle hand on my shoulder, and everything inside screamed at me to go back to him. Forcing my feet to continue walking away was one of the hardest things I've had to do in my life. Besides coming out and losing Anna, nothing else could even compare.

Everything seemed so desolate and devoid of life.

"I know you must have questions," Mrs. Clarissa sat me down gently onto one of the stained chairs with ripped up upholstery, bracing herself on the arm of her own chair as she lowered herself down.

I'm making someone with cancer carry me on their shoulders as I waded uselessly through life.

I remained silent for a moment, my face buried in my hands, my elbows on my knees supporting my hunched over form. The woman beside me straightened, staring out into the waiting room to allow me my pitiful moment.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, my voice muffled as a I spoke into my palms.

"You don't need to apologize, love. I understand this is confusing and scary for you. I've known Ivan for a long time, and I've been through this before." There was another moment of tense silence. Mrs. Clarissa seemed to realize that opening up the table for me to ask questions wasn't going to be effective, so she began with her own explanation:

"He has paranoid schizophrenia. Do you know what that is?"

Fuck.

I sure wish I didn't.

My mouth twisted in sadness. "Yes," I whispered brokenly. Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry-

"I'm sorry you had to find out this way. It's hard enough to watch him go through this knowing what is going on, doing so in the dark is even more difficult," she sighed, and I sucked in a deep breath to stave off my emotions as I lifted my head.

"I- I thought he had autism," I shook my head, biting my lip bitterly. "I thought I had it all figured out. I just wanted to understand so I could make sure I didn't do anything to make him uncomfortable. I just wanted to know everything about him, because I care about him so much it pains me. I was wrong. I was wrong and that could've hurt him even worse!" I gritted.

A thin hand came up to rub my back, and I peered up at Mrs. Clarissa's comforting smile. "Don't be so hard on yourself, Ethan. Ivan is-" she chuckled slightly in fondness. "He's a very introspective individual. Incredibly intelligent, and just as stubborn. He has carried a lot of shame over having a mental illness. When he was younger, around. . ." Mrs. Clarissa tilted her head, looking up thoughtfully as she reminisced about the past. "Twelve, I believe, I found him glued to the TV watching the news story of a man having a mental health crisis being shot point blank in the chest by the police in Seattle, and he didn't survive," she paused, grappling with the weight of the memory, and I grimaced at the thought of Ivan seeing something like that. "He didn't even have a weapon, was just acting a bit erratically on the street."

"It later came out that the man had paranoid schizophrenia, just like Ivan. He was having an episode of psychosis, and his family only wanted him brought in to get help. I don't think Ivan was ever the same after that," she finished sadly.

"Fuck- what can I do? I- I don't know the first thing about how to handle this- God if I did something to stress him out, I-" I began to ramble, my leg bouncing violently in stress.

"Honey, honey, hold on. Ivan's alright, he is going to be okay, you understand?" Mrs. Clarissa turned to grip my shoulders, holding my gaze as she ensured that every word pierced my frazzled haze. I nodded quickly, although her words were only marginally helpful. "You're already doing the best thing- just be there for him. He's scared, probably worried about what you'll think of him, or if you'll leave-"

"I would never leave him," I snapped, almost offended she would even suggest such a thing. It was already bad enough that Ivan thought that of me.

"And you should tell him that. Help him realize that he's safe, and that what he's seeing or hearing isn't real. Sometimes it's hard to tell when something seems so real to you that it isn't."

I took in her advice carefully, hanging onto every word. I didn't understand what it was like, it sounded absolutely torturous if I'm being honest, but I would listen and learn from Ivan as much as I could.

We were in this together.

The same nurse in baby blue scrubs, Kelly, had rounded the corner and was approaching the lobby from down the hall, and I went ramrod straight as though I had been electrocuted.

"Can we see him?" I blurted the moment she was within earshot, Mrs. Clarissa patting my shoulder gently to remind me of my manners, but the nurse didn't seem to mind.

She smiled sweetly at me, "you're welcome to be in the room now. Ivan will be out for a while, we had to put him to sleep to conduct the exam."

My shoulders deflated, but Mrs. Clarissa merely nodded in understanding. This definitely wasn't the first time that had happened.

"Thank you, Kelly, for being so kind and understanding towards him," the frail woman's voice shook, and she blinked quickly as though she was also trying to hold back tears. The nurse looked sympathetic, and simply nodded regally. I wondered if it gets any easier, or if every hospitalization would feel like a knife in the heart. "Okay! Let's go see him," Mrs. Clarissa perked up, and I stood quickly to help her stand, Kelly striding off back down the hall.

When we found ourselves at the door to Ivan's room, I felt a wave of nausea take over. I didn't know what to expect, but I knew it was going to fucking suck.

I was right.

Seeing Ivan lying listless in the powder white sheets, complexion looking even paler under the bright hospital lights was a difficult thing to grapple with. He appeared to be sleeping, but it wasn't exactly a pleasant sight. It looked almost unnatural, in a way.

He wasn't at my house, warm and tucked away in a blanket as we slept cuddled up to one another, but alone in a cold room, slumbering against his will despite being in a foreign place.

I immediately glued myself to the side of his bed, gripping his hand in both of mine as I rested my forehead on our joined hands. I could feel Mrs. Clarissa's eyes trained on me, an air of anticipation as though she was about to say something, but eventually took to Ivan's other side, gently pushing his fringe away from his forehead. Our eyes met from across the bed, a moment of understanding between us.

We would do anything for that boy in the bed, and would be there for him until the very end.

I came to that revelation at that moment, that there would be no one after Ivan, that it was him who I loved and wanted to marry someday.

It didn't frighten me like it probably should have.

It was simply what I have felt all along.

So I remained at his bedside for hours into the dead of night, talking to him, singing to him in my God awful voice, and eventually falling asleep hunched over his mattress as a knot began to form in my back.

I vaguely recalled Mrs. Clarissa had shook me awake at around three in the morning, trying to convince me to at least sleep on the couch if I was going to insist on staying here all night. Protesting at first, I conceded once I straightened a bit and felt how messed up my back was, so I shuffled over to the tiny grey couch and curled up in the thin blanket the hospital had provided.

The next time I woke there was a lot of activity in the room, a door slamming and people talking, and I sat up groggily, rubbing at my eyes. It took a moment for me to finally take in my surroundings, and when I did, my eyes landed on those captivating blue eyes staring at me from the bed.

Those sad, icy blue eyes spurred me into action faster than a cattle prod to the ass.

I damn near fell on my face trying to get out of that awful, itchy blanket.

My heart broke at the way Ivan looked at me as the psychiatrist discussed all of the details of his medication and the delusion that caused this all to go down, but nothing about it perturbed me. All I could focus on was that Ivan was here, and alright. . . well, relatively speaking.

When everyone in the room had finally departed, leaving Ivan and I alone, I made sure he was okay before posing the question that had been haunting me for so long.

Nothing could have prepared me for his answer.

"Why didn't you tell me? Did- did you think I would judge you? Think anything less of you?" I knew I probably looked distraught with my disheveled hair and pleading voice, and Ivan simply appeared as though he was in pain.

"Most people do," He quipped back. "If- if you want out I. . . I understand. I'm a big burden, it's not going to get any easier."

"I love you," I rushed out, staring at him intently so he knew I was serious.

To him it may seem rash, an impulsive teenager proclaiming his love in a relationship not even a year old- it seemed pathetic when it was all laid out in front of me.

But I was well aware of what the words meant, the meaning they held, and had accepted in the long hours of the previous night that the slumbering boy may not feel the same.

I didn't care. He needed to know.

"Wha- what?" He gasped, trying to lift himself up slightly to look at me better.

"I mean it. Today just made me even more sure of it."

Because even at Ivan's lowest point, I was still madly head over heels for him.

"Why-" His eyes madly searched my face, eyebrows furrowed and mouth parted like his brain was short circuiting simply trying to accept what I had said.

"Because what you don't understand, Ivan, is that you've got to be the strongest, bravest, most empathetic person I know, and I simply don't want to imagine life without you," I said seriously, encompassing his cold right hand into the warmth of both of my palms.

Ivan stared at me in disbelief, and I had a feeling I needed to prepare myself for the outcome that I feared the most. I forced myself to continue looking at him, but felt my shoulders deflate as Ivan began to speak.

"I love you too," he whispered. "I have for a while."

And just like that, all the tears I had managed to keep at bay came tumbling down in a watery smile of pure joy, and Ivan's eyes soon overflowed with tears of happiness.

Surging forward, I connected our lips as our tears mixed on each other's cheeks, nothing but goofy smiles and hiccuping breaths filling the kiss, and it was nothing less than perfect.

When we parted, I nudged my nose against his, Ivan returning the gesture in a show of admiration. My heart felt like it could explode, and I rushed forward to reconnect our lips, the burst of passion between us getting the better of me.

Ivan pushed himself up on his right arm, his left still limp at his side, but managed to throw his good arm around my neck to pull himself even closer to me, the blanket pooling around his waist as we kissed.

"Ivan, Ivan, Ivan," I murmured against his lips like a prayer.

"Ethan-" he breathed back, voice catching on the end. "You stayed."

"Of course I did. I promised, remember?" I chuckled, brushing my thumb against his jaw.

"Yeah," Ivan nodded frantically, another tear cascading down his fair cheek. "You did," he reaffirmed, using the arm around my neck to yank me even closer, forcing me to clamber up onto the hospital bed.

"This is very naughty, Ivy," I teased playfully, nipping at his neck as he gripped my hair.

"You stayed, you stayed," he repeated softly, as though trying to convince himself that I was really there, and eagerly began searching for my lips again.

The bed was a mess of limbs as we made out in desperation, seeking solace in one another after such a horrific time.

That being said, we were too preoccupied to notice the door opening.

"Boys? Are you two sleep- ah!" Mrs. Clarissa shrieked from the threshold, quickly stepping into the room and shutting the door behind her before anyone in the hallway could catch sight of us as Ivan and I separated. "Oh my goodness, Ethan get off of him! For heaven's sakes you two, I left for fifteen minutes!"

I sheepishly slid off of the bed, wiping at my mouth as Ivan brought the back of his hand to his lips, eyeing me with a deep blush on his face.

"Sorry Mrs. Clarissa. . ." Ivan mumbled into his hands, looking about ready to dissolve in embarrassment.

"Mhm," the older woman pursed her lips, but the small smile playing on her lips ruined the stern look she was going for as she handed Ivan his sandwich. As Mrs. Clarissa rounded the bed and stood in front of me, I tilted my head down slightly and tried to give my most charming smile. She raised an eyebrow, yanking on the shell of my ear lightly as she pushed my breakfast into my hands.

She gripped my shoulder and leaned in close to my ear. "Thank you for being good to my son," she whispered.

The following Saturday morning, Mrs. Clarissa offered to give me a lift home as she was heading back to relieve my mom of Benji and Mary, and to pack an overnight bag for Ivan. I was almost glad he was out cold by the time we left, because I knew watching us go would probably send him into a spiral, and I hoped he stayed asleep until Mrs. Clarissa could be there for him. No one should have to be alone in the hospital.

While I would have zero qualms about spending my entire Saturday by Ivan's bedside, Mrs. Clarissa did bring some persuasive arguments to the table, and I'll give her that. She said I stunk in the most loving voice I had ever heard, and that Ivan would likely be asleep the majority of the day due to all of the sedatives, so it wouldn't be the most productive use of time. She also said I couldn't live off of the hospital's grilled cheeses- that I believe was her weaker argument.

I thought a lot about what I was going to do when I returned home, but walking into the house and being faced with the rumpled blanket lying haphazardly on the couch that Ivan and I had shared the night before...