[ the masterpiece aleksander calls home is an exquisite thing, inlaid with marble and swathed in dark drapery haunting each of its hallways, but it's never felt like such a lovely cage until tonight. maybe it's the greedy hands that pull her in every direction, eager to hold sway over someone who has aleksander's ear; maybe it's the steel gaze that follows her from person to person, room to room, like a captor ensuring she won't stray far from his reach. or maybe it's just the row of mirrors that mock her with her reflection, the shine of her dress glinting, as though mock that little flame of hope she's kept alive tonight by wearing it at all.
the same flame that dies a little more with every hour that ticks by without any sign of nikolai, and finally extinguishes itself the instant nikolai's text flickers to life on her screen. it's not unfamiliar — that sudden emptiness in her chest that leaves her feeling a little more like that stupid girl from her past, chasing after any scrap of attention that had made her feel worth something, made her feel destined for more than the walls of an orphanage, only to find that there was nothing that could ever fill it.
she occupies it with the heat of her anger, instead, to keep herself from facing that cold, stinging disappointment. if baghra makes note of the flint in her eyes, she doesn't mention it — only remarks on alina's poor behavior when she excuses herself in the middle of a hanging, unfinished sentence before aleksander's mother can bleat out any other reprimands. addressing her plans for the foster home aleksander had bought out from beneath ana kuya's nose, another piece of alina starkov he's purchased for himself, can wait. yet another problem for yet another day.
in her hurry, she has to clutch at the skirt of her gown to scamper past where zoya abruptly tucks herself into aleksander to obscure alina from view. the edge of her smile is tense, but not without its gratitude as she walks the memorable path to aleksander's office, ignoring the dread that seems to settle in her stomach whenever she drifts too close to its doors. they click gently shut behind her when she slinks in, quiet when the pounding in her veins feels anything but.
notably, she doesn't step any closer. he might have beckoned her here with what feels like a bargaining chip more than any attempt to make amends, but she doesn't have to be a willing participant in speaking to him. if it's business he's after, business is all he'll have from her. but even the shadows of the office's entrance can't hide how she's dripping in gold, a choker too extravagant to be suited to alina's tastes wrapped around the base of her throat.
a collar by any other name is still a collar. a symbol of ownership. it makes her skin crawl to appease aleksander, to watch his eyes sweep over it possessively — but nikolai isn't the only one who can't simply walk away and leave this behind. ]
I should've known you wouldn't be able to resist. [ not her — that, she finds, he can resist too easily. it's the call of his own ambition he can't ignore. the lure of the game he's entombed himself in, uncaring that it's the very sword that's wedged its way between them. it only reaffirms her paranoia, her shattered trust in him, sharpened at him like an accusation; he never would have come solely for her, never would have been able to resist using her to sneak his way into aleksander's home. ] Give it to me.
[ it's too harsh to be a request. she steps forward, holding a hand out expectantly. ]
no subject
the same flame that dies a little more with every hour that ticks by without any sign of nikolai, and finally extinguishes itself the instant nikolai's text flickers to life on her screen. it's not unfamiliar — that sudden emptiness in her chest that leaves her feeling a little more like that stupid girl from her past, chasing after any scrap of attention that had made her feel worth something, made her feel destined for more than the walls of an orphanage, only to find that there was nothing that could ever fill it.
she occupies it with the heat of her anger, instead, to keep herself from facing that cold, stinging disappointment. if baghra makes note of the flint in her eyes, she doesn't mention it — only remarks on alina's poor behavior when she excuses herself in the middle of a hanging, unfinished sentence before aleksander's mother can bleat out any other reprimands. addressing her plans for the foster home aleksander had bought out from beneath ana kuya's nose, another piece of alina starkov he's purchased for himself, can wait. yet another problem for yet another day.
in her hurry, she has to clutch at the skirt of her gown to scamper past where zoya abruptly tucks herself into aleksander to obscure alina from view. the edge of her smile is tense, but not without its gratitude as she walks the memorable path to aleksander's office, ignoring the dread that seems to settle in her stomach whenever she drifts too close to its doors. they click gently shut behind her when she slinks in, quiet when the pounding in her veins feels anything but.
notably, she doesn't step any closer. he might have beckoned her here with what feels like a bargaining chip more than any attempt to make amends, but she doesn't have to be a willing participant in speaking to him. if it's business he's after, business is all he'll have from her. but even the shadows of the office's entrance can't hide how she's dripping in gold, a choker too extravagant to be suited to alina's tastes wrapped around the base of her throat.
a collar by any other name is still a collar. a symbol of ownership. it makes her skin crawl to appease aleksander, to watch his eyes sweep over it possessively — but nikolai isn't the only one who can't simply walk away and leave this behind. ]
I should've known you wouldn't be able to resist. [ not her — that, she finds, he can resist too easily. it's the call of his own ambition he can't ignore. the lure of the game he's entombed himself in, uncaring that it's the very sword that's wedged its way between them. it only reaffirms her paranoia, her shattered trust in him, sharpened at him like an accusation; he never would have come solely for her, never would have been able to resist using her to sneak his way into aleksander's home. ] Give it to me.
[ it's too harsh to be a request. she steps forward, holding a hand out expectantly. ]