Axel didn't move, even after Ivan told him to leave. He stood at the bathroom doorway like he'd been nailed there, his feet rooted to the floor, his shoulders tense, his hands hanging uselessly at his sides.
He didn't speak.
He didn't even breathe properly.
It was as if the moment he stepped back, even by an inch, something final would snap into place, something he would never be able to undo.
"I told you to leave."
Ivan's voice came again, low and strained.
The effort it took to keep it that controlled made his body tremble faintly, the muscles in his arms tight as if he were holding himself together by force alone.
Axel still didn't move.
In his mind, everything screamed at once. If he left now, he knew this would be the last time he would ever stand this close to Ivan.
The last time he would hear his voice unfiltered by distance or hatred or silence. The last chance to say anything at all.
