[ keep a bird in its cage for too long, and eventually, it forgets it could ever fly at all. nikolai's fingers are poised at its latch, the door open for her to soar through — but her breath seizes in her lungs, her chest hiccuping with the weight of unshed tears. it's too much — too much to hope for. too much freedom that can't and won't last. too terrifying, too much of an unknown. she shakes her head, suddenly hyperaware of every diamond biting into her skin. they constrict with her next harsh swallow, fingers sliding beneath, as though she can stop it from strangling her. ]
You don't get it. [ or maybe he understands too well, wearing the chains of his family, finding it equally impossible to walk away, for all of the same reasons she remains trapped. will you stop as well? she thinks of mal, of genya, ana kuya and every life aleksander could ruin to drive her closer to him. zoya, whose file rests in nikolai's hands, his rage burning too hot for it to belong to anyone else. nikolai, who she's certain has made an appearance in the photographs tucked inside of her own file, if she could swallow down the bile in her throat and look. all of the reasons she can't turn away.
the choker clinks together as she rattles it. ] It was a gift. I'm bought and paid for. Leaving with you won't change that.
[ not a gift, no. a reminder meant only for her. refusing to surrender to aleksander hasn't made her any less owned, no matter what they had liked to pretend. but if she isn't trapped in aleksander's game, then she'll only be trapped in nikolai's. her eyes dart from him to the crude scrawl of letters carved into the desk, back to the jacket he holds out like a peace offering. alina fumbles in her step back, legs caught up in the long hem of her gown, hating herself for feeling like a lost child, and looking just as panicked and adrift. like a shield, she tucks the folder into her arms, hugging it tightly to her chest. ]
Just leave me alone, Nikolai. [ that icy sternness loses some of its edge, worn away by grief, but there's no mistaking the mournful resentment bubbling up, like the cruel truth might finally push him to leave without her. ] That's what you're good at, anyway.
no subject
You don't get it. [ or maybe he understands too well, wearing the chains of his family, finding it equally impossible to walk away, for all of the same reasons she remains trapped. will you stop as well? she thinks of mal, of genya, ana kuya and every life aleksander could ruin to drive her closer to him. zoya, whose file rests in nikolai's hands, his rage burning too hot for it to belong to anyone else. nikolai, who she's certain has made an appearance in the photographs tucked inside of her own file, if she could swallow down the bile in her throat and look. all of the reasons she can't turn away.
the choker clinks together as she rattles it. ] It was a gift. I'm bought and paid for. Leaving with you won't change that.
[ not a gift, no. a reminder meant only for her. refusing to surrender to aleksander hasn't made her any less owned, no matter what they had liked to pretend. but if she isn't trapped in aleksander's game, then she'll only be trapped in nikolai's. her eyes dart from him to the crude scrawl of letters carved into the desk, back to the jacket he holds out like a peace offering. alina fumbles in her step back, legs caught up in the long hem of her gown, hating herself for feeling like a lost child, and looking just as panicked and adrift. like a shield, she tucks the folder into her arms, hugging it tightly to her chest. ]
Just leave me alone, Nikolai. [ that icy sternness loses some of its edge, worn away by grief, but there's no mistaking the mournful resentment bubbling up, like the cruel truth might finally push him to leave without her. ] That's what you're good at, anyway.