[ it's really all about connection. become one with your partner. alina's eyes drift closed as he whirls her down aisles, the bejeweled skirt of her gown shimmering like a shooting star behind her. she can almost imagine the whip of the wind through her air, the salt of the sea stinging her eyes — a freedom neither of them can truly seize for themselves. a freedom that a little boy might have tried to steal among these same stacks of books, a ball of golden hair racing toward these same shelves. she can imagine him with a clarity that startles her, that ghost of a boy nikolai seems to honor now, inviting her to share in the old memories he's tucked away inside of these ancient, dusty pages.
it's another piece of nikolai she stows away, placing it between her ribs for safekeeping. because she knows how precious they are, these sides of himself that can't be learned by cracking open the spine of a tome chronicling the lives of royalty. and, with a glimmer of what's perhaps childish, foolish hope, she lets herself consider if this is an invitation to know him when he has every reason to continue to shut her out.
for that reason, she ignores the bittersweet pang that goes through her when he mentions dominik. even bastard princes are born to bear loneliness and ridicule; it warms her to know he had found a home in another person as she and mal had, but she can't help the envy that rears its head, that wonders if he'll ever find her worthy of that same love. if he'll ever speak of her with the same sweet, wistful remembrance.
she hides it with an arch of her eyebrow. ]
Because it wasn't challenging enough? You're getting better at being subtle about your boasting.
[ her eyes flutter back open, then, just in time to catch the graze of nikolai's fingers along fanciful spines. her accompanying smile is a tentative thing that needs nurturing, as if her muscles have forgotten the shape of mirth on her mouth. it blooms only when he lowers her to the floor, bright as if she's taken the sun and placed it there, with a squeal of a laugh that tumbles out of her before she can choke it down.
her hair spills onto the floor like a dusting of comets as her fingers unfurl, slow, to swipe aside the strands that invade his vision. they're as unruly as nikolai's childhood was, it seems, for how easily they drape back into his line of sight — but her smile only softens as she cradles his cheek with one hand. it's surreal, to see the emerald on her hand — for display, a statement of their engagement in its own right — shine on her finger, the band of it pressing against his skin.
and here she is, wondering if she's even allowed to kiss the man she's agreed to marry. she nuzzles her nose to his, warring with herself before she tilts her head to brush her lips to his, feather-light. ]
They're going to write books about us, one day. I can only hope they won't end with you dropping me on my head on the night of our engagement.
[ a mumble against his mouth in her reluctance to part from him, confident as she is that he won't let her fall, no matter how wry her tone is. still, her arms wind around his neck, pulling him even further down with her until they really just might risk tumbling onto the floor. ]
Are you really going to let me just imagine what other kinds of misbehavior you got up to? Because it won't be very flattering, I can tell you that much.
no subject
it's another piece of nikolai she stows away, placing it between her ribs for safekeeping. because she knows how precious they are, these sides of himself that can't be learned by cracking open the spine of a tome chronicling the lives of royalty. and, with a glimmer of what's perhaps childish, foolish hope, she lets herself consider if this is an invitation to know him when he has every reason to continue to shut her out.
for that reason, she ignores the bittersweet pang that goes through her when he mentions dominik. even bastard princes are born to bear loneliness and ridicule; it warms her to know he had found a home in another person as she and mal had, but she can't help the envy that rears its head, that wonders if he'll ever find her worthy of that same love. if he'll ever speak of her with the same sweet, wistful remembrance.
she hides it with an arch of her eyebrow. ]
Because it wasn't challenging enough? You're getting better at being subtle about your boasting.
[ her eyes flutter back open, then, just in time to catch the graze of nikolai's fingers along fanciful spines. her accompanying smile is a tentative thing that needs nurturing, as if her muscles have forgotten the shape of mirth on her mouth. it blooms only when he lowers her to the floor, bright as if she's taken the sun and placed it there, with a squeal of a laugh that tumbles out of her before she can choke it down.
her hair spills onto the floor like a dusting of comets as her fingers unfurl, slow, to swipe aside the strands that invade his vision. they're as unruly as nikolai's childhood was, it seems, for how easily they drape back into his line of sight — but her smile only softens as she cradles his cheek with one hand. it's surreal, to see the emerald on her hand — for display, a statement of their engagement in its own right — shine on her finger, the band of it pressing against his skin.
and here she is, wondering if she's even allowed to kiss the man she's agreed to marry. she nuzzles her nose to his, warring with herself before she tilts her head to brush her lips to his, feather-light. ]
They're going to write books about us, one day. I can only hope they won't end with you dropping me on my head on the night of our engagement.
[ a mumble against his mouth in her reluctance to part from him, confident as she is that he won't let her fall, no matter how wry her tone is. still, her arms wind around his neck, pulling him even further down with her until they really just might risk tumbling onto the floor. ]
Are you really going to let me just imagine what other kinds of misbehavior you got up to? Because it won't be very flattering, I can tell you that much.