[ hurt bleeds out of her, a wound of his own making, and his first instinct is to staunch it with the well of emotion he's struggling to keep at bay. will it change anything if he tells her again that he loves her, the one trap he never planned to fall in after the disaster he created of dominik, or will he be met with the same question that he has no answer to and no defense against? he can't ask her to settle for what he's given her when he knows how much she deserves and how far he will always be from reaching it. he won't beg, even when every part of him wants to. ]
So am I, Alina. I'm right here. [ he puts the cigar down to take up his lighter, setting fire to the rest of the files, the blaze hotter and brighter as the breeze blows back heat into his face. ] You've looked. You've seen. This is how it feels to be loved by me. Like a half measure. Like it's divided. Like there's always something else I want more than you. Dominik used to say the same thing, you know. I loved him. God, I loved him — and you. But it doesn't matter. I will always make you feel like you're being left behind.
[ leaning forward, he lets the pages tumble bit by bit into the sea, ashes breaking off and tiny embers flitting into the air. he doesn't have the strength to turn back and look at her. ]
Just let me do what I'm good at. I told you I couldn't bear to ruin someone else. I told you how I feared this would go. I even told you that when the time came I was afraid I wouldn't be enough — and you told me I already was, because you're kind and you're generous and you wanted to see the best in me, but now you're really seeing the truth that I selfishly thought I could hide from you. I don't want you to be with me and feel like that. I'm not going to beg you for anything. I'm not going to convince you to stay. I won't chain you to me like I did to him just because I didn't want to face the hurt of him not being there. I don't want you to accept this, Alina. I want you to let me do something that I know I'm not going to fail at. Not this.
No. [ it rings with a fierceness that's final, like the thud of a book being shut once its reached its conclusion. let me, he's begged — the one request he will make of her, the only expression of his love he offers her and the very one it will kill her to accept from him — and alina nearly reaches for that lifeline, that one thread that will keep him tied to her. she isn't ready to sever it if it brings nikolai one step closer to walking away, but knowing he's kept himself by her side out of a misplaced sense of obligation would feel more alone than being alone. no better than aleksander, in some ways, sinking her claws into what she can't let go until it's in tatters. ] We do it together. That's what you promised me, but I'll find a way to do it alone if I have to.
[ the path forward is steeped in fog, an unknown — but it's an unknown she'll have to brave without the same constitution zoya has for deceit, without the same cleverness that defines nikolai's each move, without aleksander's taste for cruelty. she's outmatched, by far, and starting to wear thin at the seams — but nikolai's insistence has taken a spark to a dying ember, reigniting that fading fight inside of her.
she'll find a way. she has to. ]
You never believed in us. It was never going to work because you were always planning for it to end. [ its edge is too dulled to be an accusation, falling from her mouth like a sudden revelation as every warning comes rushing back to her. and you don't believe in us now. the defeat is written into every line of his shoulders, every refusal to turn to look at her, every resigned acceptance that this is all there is for them. doomed to repeat history, trapped in his belief that his love is an inevitable death sentence. ] For someone who says he doesn't give up on people, you've done an excellent job giving up on yourself and on us.
[ because nothing, and no one, can harm nikolai lantsov more than himself. she inhales deep, her shoe scuffing on the dock as she takes a step backward. ]
Do you expect me to just accept that? Well, I don't. I won't. [ the tenacity in it is more threat than promise, a stubborn refusal that grinds her heels in. an immovable object meeting the unstoppable force of alina starkov. ] You could change it. You could find a different way to love me, if you wanted to. I could show you how to, if you asked.
[ but he won't ask, and he still won't hear her. not now, not tonight, and her belief in all that they could be can only carry the both of them so far before she begins to collapse beneath the weight. her refusal to say goodbye is deliberate, pointed, as she gives him one last, long look — memorizing the harbor lights catching on golden hair, the elegant line of his profile, to torment herself with — before turning on her heel to leave. ]
Edited (pls do not look at my late night nitpicking) 2021-03-18 07:51 (UTC)
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
So am I, Alina. I'm right here. [ he puts the cigar down to take up his lighter, setting fire to the rest of the files, the blaze hotter and brighter as the breeze blows back heat into his face. ] You've looked. You've seen. This is how it feels to be loved by me. Like a half measure. Like it's divided. Like there's always something else I want more than you. Dominik used to say the same thing, you know. I loved him. God, I loved him — and you. But it doesn't matter. I will always make you feel like you're being left behind.
[ leaning forward, he lets the pages tumble bit by bit into the sea, ashes breaking off and tiny embers flitting into the air. he doesn't have the strength to turn back and look at her. ]
Just let me do what I'm good at. I told you I couldn't bear to ruin someone else. I told you how I feared this would go. I even told you that when the time came I was afraid I wouldn't be enough — and you told me I already was, because you're kind and you're generous and you wanted to see the best in me, but now you're really seeing the truth that I selfishly thought I could hide from you. I don't want you to be with me and feel like that. I'm not going to beg you for anything. I'm not going to convince you to stay. I won't chain you to me like I did to him just because I didn't want to face the hurt of him not being there. I don't want you to accept this, Alina. I want you to let me do something that I know I'm not going to fail at. Not this.
no subject
[ the path forward is steeped in fog, an unknown — but it's an unknown she'll have to brave without the same constitution zoya has for deceit, without the same cleverness that defines nikolai's each move, without aleksander's taste for cruelty. she's outmatched, by far, and starting to wear thin at the seams — but nikolai's insistence has taken a spark to a dying ember, reigniting that fading fight inside of her.
she'll find a way. she has to. ]
You never believed in us. It was never going to work because you were always planning for it to end. [ its edge is too dulled to be an accusation, falling from her mouth like a sudden revelation as every warning comes rushing back to her. and you don't believe in us now. the defeat is written into every line of his shoulders, every refusal to turn to look at her, every resigned acceptance that this is all there is for them. doomed to repeat history, trapped in his belief that his love is an inevitable death sentence. ] For someone who says he doesn't give up on people, you've done an excellent job giving up on yourself and on us.
[ because nothing, and no one, can harm nikolai lantsov more than himself. she inhales deep, her shoe scuffing on the dock as she takes a step backward. ]
Do you expect me to just accept that? Well, I don't. I won't. [ the tenacity in it is more threat than promise, a stubborn refusal that grinds her heels in. an immovable object meeting the unstoppable force of alina starkov. ] You could change it. You could find a different way to love me, if you wanted to. I could show you how to, if you asked.
[ but he won't ask, and he still won't hear her. not now, not tonight, and her belief in all that they could be can only carry the both of them so far before she begins to collapse beneath the weight. her refusal to say goodbye is deliberate, pointed, as she gives him one last, long look — memorizing the harbor lights catching on golden hair, the elegant line of his profile, to torment herself with — before turning on her heel to leave. ]