not of the fold ¦ disappearance

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pixel by tricky

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[div style="width: 300px; max-height: 100px; height: overflow; overflow: scroll; padding-bottom: 5px; margin-top: -5px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 8pt; color: #152232; letter-spacing: 0px; text-align: justify;"]He kept fancying that Ivan was absorbed in something — something inward and important — that he was striving toward some goal, perhaps very hard to attain.

— Бра́тья Карама́зовы

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There were few people that Ivan thought would be receptive to his strange mind and thoughts. These were the people he felt he could connect with the most. Winston was the closest to this out of all his brothers, though a rift of something like awkwardness kept them apart. Ivan felt cold the entire day when he realized Winston was missing. A hollow in his heart formed, and he breathed audibly through his nostrils, gripping the ground as his mind traveled down dark and twisted paths. He was almost terrified to go looking for him, after just happening upon Feza's death.

A coward, that was what he was, as he paced Winston's room while his father searched. He buried himself under the ripped sheets, hoping to comfort himself. His ears twitched when Selby arrived, entered the room, and wailed. Ivan only revealed himself when he saw Vingere, his black fur ruffled and pricked, a horrible teeth-gritting anger. He slipped away and rushed to Selby's side, pointedly and selfishly ignoring all else to press his forehead to Selby's shoulder, eyes clenched tight.