I tore down your shelf. If we make who behaved worse into a competition, we would have to call it a draw.

[ giving him that absolution doesn't feel like enough when it's stained with her own embarrassment, her own admission of wrongdoing, her own self-criticism. it distracts from the heart of her meaning, and the reminder she wants to wrap around it — i know what comes with loving you now, and i accept you as you are. ]

I don't expect you to be perfect. I'm not holding it against you, so don't hold it against yourself. [ selfishly, she finds some comfort in it — surefooted nikolai, as prone to stumbling as alina starkov. his flaws and insecurities on display for her to memorize, trace her fingers over to remember the shape of them when they appear next, to keep herself from mistaking his distance for cheery indifference. her voice softens, a reassurance. ] One obstacle at a time, Nik. I'll ask if he's heard anything from her whenever he gets back. I sent him out for food as punishment for snoring like a hibernating bear this morning.

[ her pause is stilted, considering, navigating past the nervousness that wants to bloom between her ribs. ]

How long would I be allowed to stay? I know guests who wear out their welcome usually have an expiration date.