All right. I'll leave it behind. [ he doesn't particularly want to, but he also knows he should pick his battles wisely instead of indiscriminately picking all of them. ] But you should bring yours just in case we're attacked by a deep sea creature that sees you as dinner and me as an extra-sweet dessert.
[ the fading sunlight casts shadows along the planes of her face, briefly illuminating the disappointment in her gaze. nikolai's brow furrows just slightly as he lifts his head. they were so happy mere minutes before, and now a heaviness hangs between them, one familiar to him. he shakes away the thought of dominik pleading with him to stop, the image souring his tongue, and the longer he looks at alina, the more a slow realization dawns upon him. ]
Did you β [ he blinks at her in genuine surprise, his voice soft, one hand traveling along the side of her thigh. ] Did you want me to go? As just your date, I mean. As your boyfriend. I hadn't thought β I didn't think you wanted Aleksander to know you were seeing someone. Frankly, I didn't think you wanted to go at all, and I certainly didn't think you wanted to take me. Do you want me to go just for you?
[ it's a battle too easily awarded to her, a victory she should accept with grace. the sinking pit in her stomach doesn't ease away, despite it; a tangible distraction has never been a hindrance to the buzzing swarm of nikolai's mind, drifting away into his world like alice spiraling down the rabbit hole, tugged between reality and the theoretical world he's unraveling in his head.
still, some measure of palpable relief floods through her, loosening the tension furrowed between her brows when she returns her gaze to his. from the sudden deflation of her breath, it's clear she had been prepared for his refusal, and what feels like another inevitable, looming argument that both of them continue to dance away from. ]
It would spit us both out. Too bony.
[ she rolls his cheek beneath her forefinger and thumb, a light pinch, but that playfulness vanishes like an easily dispersed mirage. she wishes the answer was simple when the very question begs her to examine whether she trusts that he won't charm his way into information, even while claiming he's there for her. ]
You're not a secret. Not to me. [ as possessive as aleksander will be, as tangled as that web is going to become, granting him that control grates her. ] I just assumed you wanted to stay one. Doesn't he know you and Zoya are friends?
[ that's the assumption she had been running on, at any rate, from mal's own displeasure at discovering nikolai had introduced her to a mysterious stranger. it's mortifying to realize the misunderstanding that might have been established, but she doesn't relent, pressing her lips together. ]
I'm not going to force you. If you want to go, then go.
[ it's hardly an answer to the obvious, but the thought of needing to plead with him to choose her over his plans for subterfuge weighs like lead in her chest. ]
[ this suddenly feels too much like a game with hidden pitfalls, as if a careless word here and a casual misstep there might plunge him into the icy depths of the sea. he hardly feels the pinch to his cheek, too busy asking himself if he can really attend this party without getting into some sort of trouble, but the opportunity feels too good to pass up β and then there's the looming reality of their relationship being made public to the world, something he knew would have to take place eventually, but wanted to drag his feet on for a bit longer. ]
He doesn't know. Not really. I orchestrated a meet-cute to introduce the two of the, but I went as someone else. I have an... alter ego, if you will. Not being a Lantsov makes getting through certain situations easier for me. But, Alina β
[ he trails off, looking away as he thinks, his mind turning over possibilities as quickly as he discards them. briefly, his teeth catch his lower lip before he meets her eyes once more with a troubled gaze. ]
I know you value your privacy. And I don't want you to have to remain a secret. But it's one thing to introduce you to my family, and quite another to show up at a public gathering with people who run in the same accursed circles as they do. I'm proud to stand by your side, Alina, but I want you to know that this will change things. And I don't think you'll find that change will be for the better.
[ he can't help but feel as though this is the beginning of the end. it was for him and dominik, and he can see all the ways that alina will hate what's coming next. there are questions he needs to ask her, things he needs to tell her to prepare for, but he's silent as his chest sinks around a soft exhale, reaching for her hand to wind their fingers together. the weight of what goes unspoken hangs heavily between them. ]
I'll go with you. If you'll have me. [ a brief smile flickers over his lips, and then he presses a kiss to the top of her knee. ] I can't go to your board meetings with you, but at least in this you don't have to be alone. I'm with you, Alina. Always.
[ 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.
An alter ego. He's a bit rakish compared to me β certainly more rude but almost as handsome. He stays mostly virtual these days. You don't want to meet him.
[ only zoya knows about sturmhond and his less than legal adventures, a persona meant to circumvent the irritatingly cobwebby red tape that frequently puts a halt to his schemes. in hindsight, it does sound a bit ludicrous, but sturmhond has served him well, and alina doesn't need to become an accessory in this, anyway. sturmhond can pay his way out of most situations, while nikolai finds that ruining a lantsov is far more desirable than any sum of money. ]
Aleksander has the pull to keep things out of the press. I'm afraid we don't, or else... [ or else dominik would never have been made such a spectacle, but instead of saying it he just shrugs lightly, urging a casual smile to his face. ] We'll have to have an uncomfortable conversation, I'm afraid. If there's anything in your past you don't want coming out, you'll have to weigh the risk and see if it's worth the cost. And β I'm sure you can handle it, Alina. I'm not questioning your strength. It's simply that I care about you, and I wish that being with me didn't put you in a position to make such a choice. I can't help it. That part bothers me immensely.
[ he nods, tightening his hand around hers when he feels her squeeze. it seems she's determined to make this happen, and he doesn't want to back out now. ]
I want to. I'm sure. And I'm feeling a bit sensitive, so your slights against my handsomeness are not appreciated. [ his smile turns playful as he leans in to nuzzle her cheek. ] Tell me you like me most, Starlight.
You're ridiculous. [ simply put, in the most wearisome tone she can manage. an alter ego calls to mind fantastical fairytales that have no place in real life — not without a tragic finale to them — but maybe that's another privilege that's never belonged in the world she walks in. the harsher reality of empty stomachs and threadbare hand-me-downs, rather than dashing counterparts that come out of their cage when the game's rules require it. ] Shouldn't I be asking you what you're hiding?
[ whenever she thinks she's solved the puzzle of nikolai lantsov, he adds another piece for her to slot in, changing the entire picture set in front of her. it douses her like a flood of cold water — how little she still knows of him, little secrets that pour out of his hands when he can't contain them any longer. sometimes, it's like she hardly knows him at all. ]
What past? You know almost everything. [ everything but one last grand finale she has no interest in sharing with the world. dread crawls beneath her skin like pinpricks of static. it had never escaped aleksander's sharp eyes, as piercing as steel — but her old pining for mal is barely newsworthy. better to leave it to collect cobwebs than to dig it up, she thinks, when the gap he's occupied when nikolai vanishes has already left her a little unbalanced. ] What interest would they have in a boring orphan?
[ she's not fascinating in the grand scheme, something for them to tire of, but they'll have interest in her entanglement with aleksander, an inevitable that can't be avoided. the explosive coverage of that will be unbearable, if only because she's aware of the creative liberties they'll take. nikolai lantsov steals morozova's fiancee, in bright and bold letters. sordid love triangle? she scrubs a hand over her face, mouth dipping into a frown. ]
Maybe Aleksander's pride will be so hurt that he'll keep his name out of everything? [ yeah, wishful thinking. still, she hopes nikolai will have the grace to lie to her in this, at least. she heaves a sigh, her nose wrinkling to keep her smile at bay, and gently flicks the side of his head. ] I can't tell you that. I haven't met this alter ego of yours. Maybe I'd like him better than either of you.
I'm not hiding anything. He's a different person created for convenience. It's all rather dull. He just does most of the snooping and other such things I don't want my good name attached to. I'll explain it when we're back. And you're not allowed to like him more than me. No one is.
[ but he's aware of how bizarre the entire thing sounds now that he's saying it aloud, and he's eager to move on from this particular topic. he owes her a more detailed explanation, but it can wait until they're back at home and he can properly show her a sanitized version of sturmhond's activities. his pleasant expression shifts slightly, the line of his mouth thinning. ]
I'm sure the word orphan will be thrown about with little regard, but that's not really what I'm referring to. [ he's already predicted the unbearable love triangle the media will try to shove them in, which he wonders how aleksander will react to β it's not entirely out of the realm of possibility that it could work in their favor if aleksander finds the entire thing appalling, but it feels a bit like wishful thinking at this stage. he only hopes that zoya won't have to take the brunt of that particular frustration.
he glances over with contrition in his eyes. ] I mean things like nude photographs and... intimate videos. Private matters. I can guarantee you that people will look for them.
Am I really supposed to believe you disassociate while your other personality comes out to wreak havoc?
[ the deliberate distance nikolai creates between himself and his persona is — unfathomable, an absolution he's awarded himself by separating his identity in halves. it's difficult for her to process, but then — she's never been as well-adept at deceit, or tucking away her regrets and sins in a locked drawer to neatly compartmentalize the disaster of her life. she keeps her guilt close to the chest at night instead, bearing down on her ribcage until she panics for air.
her head moves to shake in something close to bemusement, but that shift in topic sends the movement stuttering. despite their earlier recklessness in fucking each other into ruins in broad daylight, heat warms her skin. the sting of sudden humiliation is uncomfortable, but not more so than the unease of discussing it with him. ]
They won't find anything. I don't just have nude photographs and sex tapes lying around, Nikolai. [ dry and unimpressed as she tries to make it sound, there's an awkwardness in her as she crosses her arms over her chest, almost protective. defensive. she doesn't have the confidence to have any dirge of them, more importantly, but she swallows down that rising insecurity. ] The one person that does have anything like that is too possessive to share them.
Well, when you say it like that it just sounds like I need a visit to the old therapist. I am large, I contain multitudes, all that and etcetera.
[ but he's no longer thinking of how to explain sturmhond β zoya was horrified at first but got over it, and he fully believes alina will as well. no, his mind is now trying to wrap itself around the confirmation of that sort of evidence of intimacy existing. a part of him is crestfallen for no reason other than the lack of even a shred of faith in aleksander's goodwill. a part of him wants desperately to believe that aleksander's possessiveness will somehow prove to be miraculous. a part of him wishes he never brought up the party in the first place.
[ blunt honesty is, at least, her specialty. a distraction from the strangled tightness in her lungs, the oxygen that doesn't want to push past her throat. karmic justice, she guesses, for insisting nikolai is the one with a need for an old-fashioned therapist to pick apart his seams and stitch them together when alina can detect her own splitting and fraying into threads. aleksander's wrath knows no boundaries, and his pride takes no prisoners once it's been slighted. counting on the obsessive nature of his fondness won't do them any favors, if she considers the nature of it as coercive blackmail, and still —
admitting to that stupid mistake of a naive girl in love is somehow worse than confessing she had fallen for any of his other saccharine lies. ]
Why would you need to film someone without their knowledge when they're already willing? [ her self-loathing drips from every word. ] What do you expect me to do, Nikolai? There's no point in planning for the worst when there's nothing we can do about it.
[ it's a joke, or at least he tells himself that it is, smiles like it is, and casually dismisses it as if that little worry isn't burrowing its way into the back of his mind. he'll ponder it later, because he doesn't have the time to watch it fester right now, not in the face of this other looming crisis that he thinks he's already handling poorly. ]
I just don't want you to be blindsided, is all.
[ his voice drops, hating his matter-of-fact tone like he's discussing the weather and not an injustice of monumental proportions. he hates that he has to think about this at all. alina's defensiveness is misplaced but he understands it all the same, trying to think of a way to diffuse this before either of them can possibly feel any worse. ]
I know how it feels to have something incredibly personal taken away and made a mockery of. [ the dark blanket of the sky surrounds them now, stars winking into existence, reflected in the steady waters. he keeps his gaze on the sliver of moon rippling gently over the surface. ] It's true that there's likely nothing we can do to stop it from eventually happening. But I'll be there for you when it does, if β if that's what you want.
[ the sea's tranquility is equally a mockery, a scene of perfect serenity when alina wants to rage in vain, wants the sea to reflect the storm of hurt that roils through her, wants any part of her life to make sense. it gently laps at the slick sides of the yacht instead, in a world that won't stop turning for even a slip of a second — just long enough to process the path she's taken to arrive here, so far from where she had started.
so far from the destination she had in mind. but her pain isn't so significant for the universe to acknowledge it, and the stars continue to twinkle. she watches their light dimly play over nikolai's cheeks before she shrinks back at his admission, and the sudden guilt that rises like bile in his throat.
he would know that violation better than anyone, and here he is, the undeserving target of her frustration. something calm and steady to vent her anger against, strong enough to weather the blows — but far from worthy of it. ]
I'm sorry. I didn't mean — I just — [ guilt thickens her voice — or maybe it's the infuriated tears that want to spring to life, now that he's made her suddenly aware of another means aleksander has to control her. ] I'm disappointed in myself. I shouldn't take that out on you.
[ her fingertips skirt over his cheek, a gentle plea to guide his eyes back to her. ]
Why would you say that? Of course I want you there. I always want you with me. [ that's half the issue, she thinks, but she doesn't give that fear a voice. instead, her eyebrows draw together. if. as though she would throw him away over her own mistakes. ] I like you more than I've liked anyone in a long time.
No, it's β it's quite all right. Don't be disappointed in yourself for trusting someone. There's nothing wrong with that.
[ the brush of warm fingertips has him leaning toward them in the hopes of more, a careful smile curving at his lips. the apology feels like more than he deserves. after all, he's the reason that this is happening. if only alina was with someone else, someone normal, someone who doesn't have to think of these hypothetical situations that nearly always come to fruition β situations where no one ever wins. he nearly offers up the solution himself, to cut her losses, to leave him, to find someone capable of giving her the peace she deserves. but even now his throat tightens in an act of rebellion, unwilling to bear the pain of losing this. of losing her.
he tries to take a breath, his heartbeat too fast in his chest, but he finds it does little good to make his lungs feel as though they're still functional. he shakes his head ruefully. ]
I just can't help but wonder if being with me is really worth all of this. I don't want you to have to go through more pain on top of what you're already shouldering. And yet β [ he leans into her, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder before resting his forehead against it. ] And yet I want to be selfish and say that I'm falling in love with you. It's exhilarating and it's terrifying and it's far too late for me to stop. I just want so badly to be enough for you when the time comes.
Kolya. [ the diminutive is soft in her mouth, but no less weighted with a sorrow that constricts her chest. a phantom of his own pain, resounding through her. it's too familiar for alina to ignore it, acquainted with the same doubts that rattle through her bones. the insecurities that tell her she's lacking. deficient. what's haunted her since her days in the foster home, where other children gave her a wide berth and visiting families rarely looked twice at the sickly girl clinging to mal in the corner. ] You are enough.
[ spoken like an absolution, granting him the freedom he won't allow himself. she wonders if he's never had the gift of that simple truth, or if it's too difficult to accept it for himself after dominik's happiness had been turned to shreds. she tips her chin, nuzzling into the crown of his head as he hides away in her shoulder. there's no other word for it, she thinks; he won't face her with the truth of his feelings when it's easier to confess them to her skin, as if he's afraid of what he'll find if he searches her eyes. ]
You're the only one who doesn't believe that, and I can't force you to see yourself the way I do. I just wish you trusted me when I tell you that.
[ carefully, she cups the back of his neck in an attempt to nudge him out of his hiding place. there's much more she could say — that aleksander doesn't deserve to have nikolai bear the brunt of his sins. that he knows, from her own embarrassing slip of a confession, he isn't alone in the rush of his feelings. that they'll find a way through this, somehow, even if they have to fight this battle via sheer determination. but she seals them away, for now, and focuses on a softer truth. ]
Why don't you say it? [ because i want to say isn't the same, in her book. it's as coaxing as the scratch of her nails against his scalp, waiting for him to gather himself. ] Actually say it to me.
[ those words are hard to swallow in this moment when all he can think of are the many ways this can and will go wrong. hiding their relationship will grate against them both, but exposure seems just as bad β if not worse β if it means that alina will be dragged through the mud for it. and there isn't any way he can protect her. in that, he's certainly not enough.
her fingers are a comforting weight in his hair nonetheless, reminding him of how much he aches for this, for her, and how afraid he is some days that it's going to slip right from his hands. he's afraid right now, the rapid hummingbird of his heart an uncomfortable flutter in his chest, but he can hardly deny her what he knows he should give. if he can't offer anything else, at least he can offer the truth.
he swallows, lifting his head slightly so he can meet her eyes in the quiet darkness, and though his words come out softly, they're steady, mired in his own belief. ]
I am falling in love with you, Alina Starlight. [ one hand threads gently through her hair, drawing her close so that their lips brush. ] You're extraordinary, and I can hardly help myself. Some days I'm so afraid that I'm going to break this to pieces and that you'll wake up one morning and decide enough is enough. But other days...
[ his breath slows, a quiet exhale on his lips. ] You make me happy. When I'm with you... I'm happy again. It's been some time since I felt this way. You're so dear to me just for that. Not only for that, but it's a feeling I really do treasure. And I think only you could've done this for me.
[ her eyes ring with the memory of her voice carried to him by winter's wind, and the echoing silence that had greeted it. how long has it been since you've been happy? an eternity, she had suspected then, as his grief unspooled before her very eyes. he had seemed so weary, so ancient then, his heart eroded by the harsh hand of time and containing years of secrets she couldn't begin to chip away.
a counterpoint to the youthful fear that reflects in them now. with sharp clarity, she recognizes it, filled with the pain of fighting a permanent war with hope. the hope that, in the end, everything will fall into place — and the denial of allowing yourself to want, for fear of that you'll never recover from that same hope crumbling to dust in your hands. it pulls at her each day, but she's had her time to mourn the slow deterioration of her dreams, visions of a quiet, painfully plain future that she knows better than to share with nikolai. she won't hand him the very brush he'll use to paint himself as a villain that's bound her to his side.
cradling his face in her palms, she surges forward. the insistent pressure of her mouth, an intensity that matches the rocketing of heart, softens and slows into something reverent. something that demands she handle him as all fragile, precious things require. their lips part from one another, interrupted by force of a smile she's imprinted onto the corner of his mouth. ]
You're giving me too much credit. [ her fingers flutter downward, tapping meaningfully against his sternum, flattening her palm against the leaping frenzy of his heart as though she might capture it in her hands. quietly, she shakes her head — she's never been at ease accepting that praise, eaten away by her scabrous insecurities — but the glowing appreciation in her cheeks doesn't fade. ] You make it easy to love you.
That's all that matters. Our happiness. Ours. The world can say whatever they want about everything else, but they can't have that. I won't let them. [ with a dip of her head, she locks onto his gaze. ] Whatever happens, we'll find a way through it. But for that to happen, I need to know you'll stay.
[ stay with me. a plea that vibrates through her with how desperately she needs that promise. more than what she intends to ask when she hesitates, before: ]
There's one other thing I'll need from you, too, if I haven't asked for too much already.
[ he melts into the kiss with all the softness and quiet reassurances that he can't admit to needing, her mouth sending a muted shiver through him as he gently curls his fingers at her hip, stroking along her bare skin. every moment feels like it could be their last no matter how many times she promises otherwise, but the tightness in his chest eases slowly, his heartbeat settling back into place from where it was threatening to choke him. this happiness is bittersweet, at odds with the cling of painful memories screaming that he doesn't deserve this, but he sets it aside when he hears her plea, knowing that he isn't the only one in need of something tonight. ]
I'll stay. [ he seals it against her lips, a promise he doesn't intend to break β in whatever way aleksander decides to retaliate. his fear doesn't stem from him or the carelessness of the press or the judgment of his family. he's afraid that one day alina will look him in the eyes the same way that dominik had, like he wanted nothing more than for this pain to stop. he meets her gaze now, mapping out her determination, her fortitude, her belief that they can somehow shield what they share from the realities of the world, and because he wants so desperately to believe in it, he does. ] I'll always be here for you, Alina. I can promise you that even if everything else changes, that never will.
[ he feels the relief of a genuine smile breaking through, his eyes softening as he clasps the hand she has to his heart, bringing it to his lips to kiss the tips of her fingers. it isn't lost on him how the word love has permeated this conversation, but he isn't eager to ruin the feeling with excessive scrutiny, letting it settle feather-light between them. ]
You can't ask too much of someone who wants to give you everything.
[ he would, she thinks hazily, give her everything — empty his pockets to fill her life, if she asked it, like the grand selfishness of his generosity is what he needs to convince her to find him worth staying for. nikolai's promises are never illusions meant to trick her into complacency, never a gift she unwraps just to discover an empty box. it settles uneasily on her bones. not for fear that he might try to purchase her loyalty with the privilege at his disposal, easily thrown about without consequences — but the reality that she isn't worth that sacrifice.
isn't worth any of this, if she's being miserably honest with herself. her past will be considered a blemish on his reputation, considered unsightly even as society refuses to glance away, compelled by human nature to watch a trainwreck in motion. his family's disapproval will amplify to a deafening volume, and set them at odds once more. aleksander's retribution will be swift and hasty, an executioner's axe arching through the air in one forceful stroke. and all because she had dared to consider, for a second, that she was destined for more than a lonely life of letting her paintings collect cobwebs rather than dream bigger for herself.
she tells herself he'll find out soon enough, once his self-loathing stops fogging his eyes and he can see clearly. that's all that matters, she's said of him — but she can't, in good conscience, apply it to herself. selfishly, the least she can do is enjoy what happiness they do have, here and now — convinced as she is that she's inviting the darkness back into the soft shelter they've wrapped around themselves. warm, gentle, like the outside world can't touch them. ]
My house can't fit everything in it.
[ her eyes crinkle at the corners, short-lived amusement. chaste, she taps her fingers against his lips, taking the brand of his kisses with her. ]
Win. [ her mouth narrows into grim determination. he hadn't wanted her involved, and she hadn't wanted to know the gory details, but with the threat pressing in tight around her — it's difficult to ignore the sparking embers of her own fury. the anger she bottles, afraid to let him see the effects of aleksander's pull, but he's untapped the seal — and she's uncertain if she can contain it, now. ] If he's going to try to ruin me, I'm going to take him with me. We'll start by getting ahead of the narrative before he can control that, too.
[ like he controlled me. it rests heavily in the air. if spinning the narrative won't redirect some of the storm toward aleksander, then — maybe nikolai will know how to soften the blow, to stir some pity toward her, that backfires terribly on morozova. ]
You're better than I am at coming up with stories that people want to hear.
[ he isn't sure what she could possibly want to ask for β she so rarely asks for anything, but the few things she does ask for are always intangible, unable to be weighted and measured except by the heart. this is no different, but it surprises him all the same, almost taken aback by the sudden ferocity in her tone. she has a good many reasons to be angry at aleksander, but so rarely shows any feeling for him beyond muted indifference and quiet resignation. it's unlike him to hesitate, but he does all the same, testing the weight of her request. ]
Do you want to tell your story? [ gently asked, but a certain solemnity settles in his gaze. this is difficult ground to traverse, and he doesn't want to cheapen this moment by pointing out that spinning the narrative in her favor is a brilliant move he would never ask of her. ] If you come forward with accusations against him, it will certainly change things, but β please don't do this for my sake. Trust me when I say I care very little about complaints on how I choose to live my life and who I choose to love.
[ it was never about him to begin with. what hurt far worse than the commentary on his taste was how much it hurt dominik to have his life splashed across pages that everyone could see. this feels far too much like history repeating itself, the similarities too eerie to ignore. they can say whatever they like about him falling for peasants with no notoriety to speak of β what he knows will be much harder to abide is the inevitable scorn that will land squarely onto alina's shoulders. ]
If this is something you want β [ he tucks their clasped hands to his chest again, squeezing gently. ] Then we'll do it. Together. It will be scathing, but you won't be alone in this even for a minute. In fact, I'd be proud to stand by your side.
[ it could pierce like a blade, cutting soft flesh from the bone, if it wasn't so iron-clad in her conviction. but maybe, she thinks, it isn't entirely honest. more than that, it isn't entirely possible to remove nikolai from the equation. their visions of happiness align like matching stars, after all, and if she's to nurture that blossoming future — she needs to weed out what's been infecting her, from before they had even crossed paths. ]
It's not only for you, [ she amends, worrying at her lip. ] It's for us, but mostly — it's for me. I think ... I needed a reason to be free of him, and to believe that there was more that I could have. A reason to risk the consequences.
[ the flex of her fingers within his falls victim to her nerves, toying with the ends of his own, to give herself something to absently fiddle with. she doesn't dwell on her own implication, or even take note of it. she's never believed herself to be worth fighting for. to find worth in fully shaking free of the last of the shackles aleksander had placed on her, when it had been a necessary exchange. her suffering, in exchange for the protection of those he would rather see harmed. her prison, in exchange for the freedom of her friends. she frowns down at their clasped hands, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. ]
A future with you deserves that kind of risk. You make me feel stupid and brave enough to do it, and possibly a little insane. No, absolutely insane. [ beneath the fan of her eyelashes, she peers back up at him, cracked open and vulnerable. ] But I'm sure of it, Nikolai. I don't want to live at the whim of his mercy.
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[ the fading sunlight casts shadows along the planes of her face, briefly illuminating the disappointment in her gaze. nikolai's brow furrows just slightly as he lifts his head. they were so happy mere minutes before, and now a heaviness hangs between them, one familiar to him. he shakes away the thought of dominik pleading with him to stop, the image souring his tongue, and the longer he looks at alina, the more a slow realization dawns upon him. ]
Did you β [ he blinks at her in genuine surprise, his voice soft, one hand traveling along the side of her thigh. ] Did you want me to go? As just your date, I mean. As your boyfriend. I hadn't thought β I didn't think you wanted Aleksander to know you were seeing someone. Frankly, I didn't think you wanted to go at all, and I certainly didn't think you wanted to take me. Do you want me to go just for you?
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still, some measure of palpable relief floods through her, loosening the tension furrowed between her brows when she returns her gaze to his. from the sudden deflation of her breath, it's clear she had been prepared for his refusal, and what feels like another inevitable, looming argument that both of them continue to dance away from. ]
It would spit us both out. Too bony.
[ she rolls his cheek beneath her forefinger and thumb, a light pinch, but that playfulness vanishes like an easily dispersed mirage. she wishes the answer was simple when the very question begs her to examine whether she trusts that he won't charm his way into information, even while claiming he's there for her. ]
You're not a secret. Not to me. [ as possessive as aleksander will be, as tangled as that web is going to become, granting him that control grates her. ] I just assumed you wanted to stay one. Doesn't he know you and Zoya are friends?
[ that's the assumption she had been running on, at any rate, from mal's own displeasure at discovering nikolai had introduced her to a mysterious stranger. it's mortifying to realize the misunderstanding that might have been established, but she doesn't relent, pressing her lips together. ]
I'm not going to force you. If you want to go, then go.
[ it's hardly an answer to the obvious, but the thought of needing to plead with him to choose her over his plans for subterfuge weighs like lead in her chest. ]
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He doesn't know. Not really. I orchestrated a meet-cute to introduce the two of the, but I went as someone else. I have an... alter ego, if you will. Not being a Lantsov makes getting through certain situations easier for me. But, Alina β
[ he trails off, looking away as he thinks, his mind turning over possibilities as quickly as he discards them. briefly, his teeth catch his lower lip before he meets her eyes once more with a troubled gaze. ]
I know you value your privacy. And I don't want you to have to remain a secret. But it's one thing to introduce you to my family, and quite another to show up at a public gathering with people who run in the same accursed circles as they do. I'm proud to stand by your side, Alina, but I want you to know that this will change things. And I don't think you'll find that change will be for the better.
[ he can't help but feel as though this is the beginning of the end. it was for him and dominik, and he can see all the ways that alina will hate what's coming next. there are questions he needs to ask her, things he needs to tell her to prepare for, but he's silent as his chest sinks around a soft exhale, reaching for her hand to wind their fingers together. the weight of what goes unspoken hangs heavily between them. ]
I'll go with you. If you'll have me. [ a brief smile flickers over his lips, and then he presses a kiss to the top of her knee. ] I can't go to your board meetings with you, but at least in this you don't have to be alone. I'm with you, Alina. Always.
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[ 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.
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[ only zoya knows about sturmhond and his less than legal adventures, a persona meant to circumvent the irritatingly cobwebby red tape that frequently puts a halt to his schemes. in hindsight, it does sound a bit ludicrous, but sturmhond has served him well, and alina doesn't need to become an accessory in this, anyway. sturmhond can pay his way out of most situations, while nikolai finds that ruining a lantsov is far more desirable than any sum of money. ]
Aleksander has the pull to keep things out of the press. I'm afraid we don't, or else... [ or else dominik would never have been made such a spectacle, but instead of saying it he just shrugs lightly, urging a casual smile to his face. ] We'll have to have an uncomfortable conversation, I'm afraid. If there's anything in your past you don't want coming out, you'll have to weigh the risk and see if it's worth the cost. And β I'm sure you can handle it, Alina. I'm not questioning your strength. It's simply that I care about you, and I wish that being with me didn't put you in a position to make such a choice. I can't help it. That part bothers me immensely.
[ he nods, tightening his hand around hers when he feels her squeeze. it seems she's determined to make this happen, and he doesn't want to back out now. ]
I want to. I'm sure. And I'm feeling a bit sensitive, so your slights against my handsomeness are not appreciated. [ his smile turns playful as he leans in to nuzzle her cheek. ] Tell me you like me most, Starlight.
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[ whenever she thinks she's solved the puzzle of nikolai lantsov, he adds another piece for her to slot in, changing the entire picture set in front of her. it douses her like a flood of cold water — how little she still knows of him, little secrets that pour out of his hands when he can't contain them any longer. sometimes, it's like she hardly knows him at all. ]
What past? You know almost everything. [ everything but one last grand finale she has no interest in sharing with the world. dread crawls beneath her skin like pinpricks of static. it had never escaped aleksander's sharp eyes, as piercing as steel — but her old pining for mal is barely newsworthy. better to leave it to collect cobwebs than to dig it up, she thinks, when the gap he's occupied when nikolai vanishes has already left her a little unbalanced. ] What interest would they have in a boring orphan?
[ she's not fascinating in the grand scheme, something for them to tire of, but they'll have interest in her entanglement with aleksander, an inevitable that can't be avoided. the explosive coverage of that will be unbearable, if only because she's aware of the creative liberties they'll take. nikolai lantsov steals morozova's fiancee, in bright and bold letters. sordid love triangle? she scrubs a hand over her face, mouth dipping into a frown. ]
Maybe Aleksander's pride will be so hurt that he'll keep his name out of everything? [ yeah, wishful thinking. still, she hopes nikolai will have the grace to lie to her in this, at least. she heaves a sigh, her nose wrinkling to keep her smile at bay, and gently flicks the side of his head. ] I can't tell you that. I haven't met this alter ego of yours. Maybe I'd like him better than either of you.
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[ but he's aware of how bizarre the entire thing sounds now that he's saying it aloud, and he's eager to move on from this particular topic. he owes her a more detailed explanation, but it can wait until they're back at home and he can properly show her a sanitized version of sturmhond's activities. his pleasant expression shifts slightly, the line of his mouth thinning. ]
I'm sure the word orphan will be thrown about with little regard, but that's not really what I'm referring to. [ he's already predicted the unbearable love triangle the media will try to shove them in, which he wonders how aleksander will react to β it's not entirely out of the realm of possibility that it could work in their favor if aleksander finds the entire thing appalling, but it feels a bit like wishful thinking at this stage. he only hopes that zoya won't have to take the brunt of that particular frustration.
he glances over with contrition in his eyes. ] I mean things like nude photographs and... intimate videos. Private matters. I can guarantee you that people will look for them.
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[ the deliberate distance nikolai creates between himself and his persona is — unfathomable, an absolution he's awarded himself by separating his identity in halves. it's difficult for her to process, but then — she's never been as well-adept at deceit, or tucking away her regrets and sins in a locked drawer to neatly compartmentalize the disaster of her life. she keeps her guilt close to the chest at night instead, bearing down on her ribcage until she panics for air.
her head moves to shake in something close to bemusement, but that shift in topic sends the movement stuttering. despite their earlier recklessness in fucking each other into ruins in broad daylight, heat warms her skin. the sting of sudden humiliation is uncomfortable, but not more so than the unease of discussing it with him. ]
They won't find anything. I don't just have nude photographs and sex tapes lying around, Nikolai. [ dry and unimpressed as she tries to make it sound, there's an awkwardness in her as she crosses her arms over her chest, almost protective. defensive. she doesn't have the confidence to have any dirge of them, more importantly, but she swallows down that rising insecurity. ] The one person that does have anything like that is too possessive to share them.
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[ but he's no longer thinking of how to explain sturmhond β zoya was horrified at first but got over it, and he fully believes alina will as well. no, his mind is now trying to wrap itself around the confirmation of that sort of evidence of intimacy existing. a part of him is crestfallen for no reason other than the lack of even a shred of faith in aleksander's goodwill. a part of him wants desperately to believe that aleksander's possessiveness will somehow prove to be miraculous. a part of him wishes he never brought up the party in the first place.
he's silent for a moment, trying to choose his words carefully. ] As much as I want to believe that to be true, if we really are to make our public debut at your ex-fiancΓ©'s party, I do think planning for the worst holds some merit. If they don't come out through him, they'll come out some other way. Are you sure of what to expect, or do you think he ever recorded you without your knowledge?
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[ blunt honesty is, at least, her specialty. a distraction from the strangled tightness in her lungs, the oxygen that doesn't want to push past her throat. karmic justice, she guesses, for insisting nikolai is the one with a need for an old-fashioned therapist to pick apart his seams and stitch them together when alina can detect her own splitting and fraying into threads. aleksander's wrath knows no boundaries, and his pride takes no prisoners once it's been slighted. counting on the obsessive nature of his fondness won't do them any favors, if she considers the nature of it as coercive blackmail, and still —
admitting to that stupid mistake of a naive girl in love is somehow worse than confessing she had fallen for any of his other saccharine lies. ]
Why would you need to film someone without their knowledge when they're already willing? [ her self-loathing drips from every word. ] What do you expect me to do, Nikolai? There's no point in planning for the worst when there's nothing we can do about it.
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I just don't want you to be blindsided, is all.
[ his voice drops, hating his matter-of-fact tone like he's discussing the weather and not an injustice of monumental proportions. he hates that he has to think about this at all. alina's defensiveness is misplaced but he understands it all the same, trying to think of a way to diffuse this before either of them can possibly feel any worse. ]
I know how it feels to have something incredibly personal taken away and made a mockery of. [ the dark blanket of the sky surrounds them now, stars winking into existence, reflected in the steady waters. he keeps his gaze on the sliver of moon rippling gently over the surface. ] It's true that there's likely nothing we can do to stop it from eventually happening. But I'll be there for you when it does, if β if that's what you want.
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so far from the destination she had in mind. but her pain isn't so significant for the universe to acknowledge it, and the stars continue to twinkle. she watches their light dimly play over nikolai's cheeks before she shrinks back at his admission, and the sudden guilt that rises like bile in his throat.
he would know that violation better than anyone, and here he is, the undeserving target of her frustration. something calm and steady to vent her anger against, strong enough to weather the blows — but far from worthy of it. ]
I'm sorry. I didn't mean — I just — [ guilt thickens her voice — or maybe it's the infuriated tears that want to spring to life, now that he's made her suddenly aware of another means aleksander has to control her. ] I'm disappointed in myself. I shouldn't take that out on you.
[ her fingertips skirt over his cheek, a gentle plea to guide his eyes back to her. ]
Why would you say that? Of course I want you there. I always want you with me. [ that's half the issue, she thinks, but she doesn't give that fear a voice. instead, her eyebrows draw together. if. as though she would throw him away over her own mistakes. ] I like you more than I've liked anyone in a long time.
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[ the brush of warm fingertips has him leaning toward them in the hopes of more, a careful smile curving at his lips. the apology feels like more than he deserves. after all, he's the reason that this is happening. if only alina was with someone else, someone normal, someone who doesn't have to think of these hypothetical situations that nearly always come to fruition β situations where no one ever wins. he nearly offers up the solution himself, to cut her losses, to leave him, to find someone capable of giving her the peace she deserves. but even now his throat tightens in an act of rebellion, unwilling to bear the pain of losing this. of losing her.
he tries to take a breath, his heartbeat too fast in his chest, but he finds it does little good to make his lungs feel as though they're still functional. he shakes his head ruefully. ]
I just can't help but wonder if being with me is really worth all of this. I don't want you to have to go through more pain on top of what you're already shouldering. And yet β [ he leans into her, pressing a gentle kiss to her shoulder before resting his forehead against it. ] And yet I want to be selfish and say that I'm falling in love with you. It's exhilarating and it's terrifying and it's far too late for me to stop. I just want so badly to be enough for you when the time comes.
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[ spoken like an absolution, granting him the freedom he won't allow himself. she wonders if he's never had the gift of that simple truth, or if it's too difficult to accept it for himself after dominik's happiness had been turned to shreds. she tips her chin, nuzzling into the crown of his head as he hides away in her shoulder. there's no other word for it, she thinks; he won't face her with the truth of his feelings when it's easier to confess them to her skin, as if he's afraid of what he'll find if he searches her eyes. ]
You're the only one who doesn't believe that, and I can't force you to see yourself the way I do. I just wish you trusted me when I tell you that.
[ carefully, she cups the back of his neck in an attempt to nudge him out of his hiding place. there's much more she could say — that aleksander doesn't deserve to have nikolai bear the brunt of his sins. that he knows, from her own embarrassing slip of a confession, he isn't alone in the rush of his feelings. that they'll find a way through this, somehow, even if they have to fight this battle via sheer determination. but she seals them away, for now, and focuses on a softer truth. ]
Why don't you say it? [ because i want to say isn't the same, in her book. it's as coaxing as the scratch of her nails against his scalp, waiting for him to gather himself. ] Actually say it to me.
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her fingers are a comforting weight in his hair nonetheless, reminding him of how much he aches for this, for her, and how afraid he is some days that it's going to slip right from his hands. he's afraid right now, the rapid hummingbird of his heart an uncomfortable flutter in his chest, but he can hardly deny her what he knows he should give. if he can't offer anything else, at least he can offer the truth.
he swallows, lifting his head slightly so he can meet her eyes in the quiet darkness, and though his words come out softly, they're steady, mired in his own belief. ]
I am falling in love with you, Alina Starlight. [ one hand threads gently through her hair, drawing her close so that their lips brush. ] You're extraordinary, and I can hardly help myself. Some days I'm so afraid that I'm going to break this to pieces and that you'll wake up one morning and decide enough is enough. But other days...
[ his breath slows, a quiet exhale on his lips. ] You make me happy. When I'm with you... I'm happy again. It's been some time since I felt this way. You're so dear to me just for that. Not only for that, but it's a feeling I really do treasure. And I think only you could've done this for me.
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a counterpoint to the youthful fear that reflects in them now. with sharp clarity, she recognizes it, filled with the pain of fighting a permanent war with hope. the hope that, in the end, everything will fall into place — and the denial of allowing yourself to want, for fear of that you'll never recover from that same hope crumbling to dust in your hands. it pulls at her each day, but she's had her time to mourn the slow deterioration of her dreams, visions of a quiet, painfully plain future that she knows better than to share with nikolai. she won't hand him the very brush he'll use to paint himself as a villain that's bound her to his side.
cradling his face in her palms, she surges forward. the insistent pressure of her mouth, an intensity that matches the rocketing of heart, softens and slows into something reverent. something that demands she handle him as all fragile, precious things require. their lips part from one another, interrupted by force of a smile she's imprinted onto the corner of his mouth. ]
You're giving me too much credit. [ her fingers flutter downward, tapping meaningfully against his sternum, flattening her palm against the leaping frenzy of his heart as though she might capture it in her hands. quietly, she shakes her head — she's never been at ease accepting that praise, eaten away by her scabrous insecurities — but the glowing appreciation in her cheeks doesn't fade. ] You make it easy to love you.
That's all that matters. Our happiness. Ours. The world can say whatever they want about everything else, but they can't have that. I won't let them. [ with a dip of her head, she locks onto his gaze. ] Whatever happens, we'll find a way through it. But for that to happen, I need to know you'll stay.
[ stay with me. a plea that vibrates through her with how desperately she needs that promise. more than what she intends to ask when she hesitates, before: ]
There's one other thing I'll need from you, too, if I haven't asked for too much already.
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I'll stay. [ he seals it against her lips, a promise he doesn't intend to break β in whatever way aleksander decides to retaliate. his fear doesn't stem from him or the carelessness of the press or the judgment of his family. he's afraid that one day alina will look him in the eyes the same way that dominik had, like he wanted nothing more than for this pain to stop. he meets her gaze now, mapping out her determination, her fortitude, her belief that they can somehow shield what they share from the realities of the world, and because he wants so desperately to believe in it, he does. ] I'll always be here for you, Alina. I can promise you that even if everything else changes, that never will.
[ he feels the relief of a genuine smile breaking through, his eyes softening as he clasps the hand she has to his heart, bringing it to his lips to kiss the tips of her fingers. it isn't lost on him how the word love has permeated this conversation, but he isn't eager to ruin the feeling with excessive scrutiny, letting it settle feather-light between them. ]
You can't ask too much of someone who wants to give you everything.
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isn't worth any of this, if she's being miserably honest with herself. her past will be considered a blemish on his reputation, considered unsightly even as society refuses to glance away, compelled by human nature to watch a trainwreck in motion. his family's disapproval will amplify to a deafening volume, and set them at odds once more. aleksander's retribution will be swift and hasty, an executioner's axe arching through the air in one forceful stroke. and all because she had dared to consider, for a second, that she was destined for more than a lonely life of letting her paintings collect cobwebs rather than dream bigger for herself.
she tells herself he'll find out soon enough, once his self-loathing stops fogging his eyes and he can see clearly. that's all that matters, she's said of him — but she can't, in good conscience, apply it to herself. selfishly, the least she can do is enjoy what happiness they do have, here and now — convinced as she is that she's inviting the darkness back into the soft shelter they've wrapped around themselves. warm, gentle, like the outside world can't touch them. ]
My house can't fit everything in it.
[ her eyes crinkle at the corners, short-lived amusement. chaste, she taps her fingers against his lips, taking the brand of his kisses with her. ]
Win. [ her mouth narrows into grim determination. he hadn't wanted her involved, and she hadn't wanted to know the gory details, but with the threat pressing in tight around her — it's difficult to ignore the sparking embers of her own fury. the anger she bottles, afraid to let him see the effects of aleksander's pull, but he's untapped the seal — and she's uncertain if she can contain it, now. ] If he's going to try to ruin me, I'm going to take him with me. We'll start by getting ahead of the narrative before he can control that, too.
[ like he controlled me. it rests heavily in the air. if spinning the narrative won't redirect some of the storm toward aleksander, then — maybe nikolai will know how to soften the blow, to stir some pity toward her, that backfires terribly on morozova. ]
You're better than I am at coming up with stories that people want to hear.
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Do you want to tell your story? [ gently asked, but a certain solemnity settles in his gaze. this is difficult ground to traverse, and he doesn't want to cheapen this moment by pointing out that spinning the narrative in her favor is a brilliant move he would never ask of her. ] If you come forward with accusations against him, it will certainly change things, but β please don't do this for my sake. Trust me when I say I care very little about complaints on how I choose to live my life and who I choose to love.
[ it was never about him to begin with. what hurt far worse than the commentary on his taste was how much it hurt dominik to have his life splashed across pages that everyone could see. this feels far too much like history repeating itself, the similarities too eerie to ignore. they can say whatever they like about him falling for peasants with no notoriety to speak of β what he knows will be much harder to abide is the inevitable scorn that will land squarely onto alina's shoulders. ]
If this is something you want β [ he tucks their clasped hands to his chest again, squeezing gently. ] Then we'll do it. Together. It will be scathing, but you won't be alone in this even for a minute. In fact, I'd be proud to stand by your side.
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[ it could pierce like a blade, cutting soft flesh from the bone, if it wasn't so iron-clad in her conviction. but maybe, she thinks, it isn't entirely honest. more than that, it isn't entirely possible to remove nikolai from the equation. their visions of happiness align like matching stars, after all, and if she's to nurture that blossoming future — she needs to weed out what's been infecting her, from before they had even crossed paths. ]
It's not only for you, [ she amends, worrying at her lip. ] It's for us, but mostly — it's for me. I think ... I needed a reason to be free of him, and to believe that there was more that I could have. A reason to risk the consequences.
[ the flex of her fingers within his falls victim to her nerves, toying with the ends of his own, to give herself something to absently fiddle with. she doesn't dwell on her own implication, or even take note of it. she's never believed herself to be worth fighting for. to find worth in fully shaking free of the last of the shackles aleksander had placed on her, when it had been a necessary exchange. her suffering, in exchange for the protection of those he would rather see harmed. her prison, in exchange for the freedom of her friends. she frowns down at their clasped hands, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. ]
A future with you deserves that kind of risk. You make me feel stupid and brave enough to do it, and possibly a little insane. No, absolutely insane. [ beneath the fan of her eyelashes, she peers back up at him, cracked open and vulnerable. ] But I'm sure of it, Nikolai. I don't want to live at the whim of his mercy.