[ alter ego. the sheer, surprising absurdity of that secret is so sudden that a laugh tickles at the base of her throat — and though it's evidence of another side of himself he's stowed away from her, she forces herself to focus. his strange habits aren't the point, but his commitment to his priorities are.
his speech has all of the trappings of a rejection. a warning to soften the blow of denying her, as though to convince her that attending it alone — without mal, who might bloody his fists; without genya, who pales deathly white in aleksander's presence, from whatever unspeakable harm he's done to her — is for her own good. all of the pain he's ever caused her has always been blanketed with sweetness, but it can't prevent her from detecting that bitterness on her tongue.
as he turns, she tenses to do the same — but his hand is a warm pressure atop hers, his fingers binding her in place. a furrow forms between her eyebrows, exposing her delay in keeping pace with the hasty racing of his thoughts. ]
It's not my first time doing this. You keep forgetting that. [ reminding him of that stain on her past is unfortunate, but necessary. she isn't that same bright-eyed girl that aleksander had made his rags to riches story, a cinderella plucked from the streets and groomed to be an equal. that streak of naivety has faded, but her determination hasn't; as aware as she is that it will hardly be the same, that she doesn't have the same protection from the same vultures that stalk aleksander and nikolai now, that she'll despise every minute of speculation and invasion of their privacy — what other choice does she possibly have but to put on a brave face? ] I can handle it.
[ it's cowardly not to present her own disclaimer. that she always attends these, if only to avoid aleksander's ire from spilling over into the other aspects of her life. to keep him complacent, leveraging his obsessive fixation to find a foothold in keeping him restrained. that she doubts nikolai will particularly enjoy witnessing any of it.
selfishly, she comforts herself with the reminder that there will be time to sort out that tangled disaster for him. later, when the tension in the air isn't billowing down her throat, threatening to smother her with anxious smog. ]
If you want to, [ she corrects, emphasizes the repetition with her brief, squeezing grip. there never was any other answer for her but yes, every time he questions whether she intends to have him. to keep him. ] If you're sure. I could always find a more handsome escort. That's obviously why I suggested Mal first.
no subject
[ alter ego. the sheer, surprising absurdity of that secret is so sudden that a laugh tickles at the base of her throat — and though it's evidence of another side of himself he's stowed away from her, she forces herself to focus. his strange habits aren't the point, but his commitment to his priorities are.
his speech has all of the trappings of a rejection. a warning to soften the blow of denying her, as though to convince her that attending it alone — without mal, who might bloody his fists; without genya, who pales deathly white in aleksander's presence, from whatever unspeakable harm he's done to her — is for her own good. all of the pain he's ever caused her has always been blanketed with sweetness, but it can't prevent her from detecting that bitterness on her tongue.
as he turns, she tenses to do the same — but his hand is a warm pressure atop hers, his fingers binding her in place. a furrow forms between her eyebrows, exposing her delay in keeping pace with the hasty racing of his thoughts. ]
It's not my first time doing this. You keep forgetting that. [ reminding him of that stain on her past is unfortunate, but necessary. she isn't that same bright-eyed girl that aleksander had made his rags to riches story, a cinderella plucked from the streets and groomed to be an equal. that streak of naivety has faded, but her determination hasn't; as aware as she is that it will hardly be the same, that she doesn't have the same protection from the same vultures that stalk aleksander and nikolai now, that she'll despise every minute of speculation and invasion of their privacy — what other choice does she possibly have but to put on a brave face? ] I can handle it.
[ it's cowardly not to present her own disclaimer. that she always attends these, if only to avoid aleksander's ire from spilling over into the other aspects of her life. to keep him complacent, leveraging his obsessive fixation to find a foothold in keeping him restrained. that she doubts nikolai will particularly enjoy witnessing any of it.
selfishly, she comforts herself with the reminder that there will be time to sort out that tangled disaster for him. later, when the tension in the air isn't billowing down her throat, threatening to smother her with anxious smog. ]
If you want to, [ she corrects, emphasizes the repetition with her brief, squeezing grip. there never was any other answer for her but yes, every time he questions whether she intends to have him. to keep him. ] If you're sure. I could always find a more handsome escort. That's obviously why I suggested Mal first.