[ or there would be, if her mind wasn't filled with: ???????????????????????? christ, she's too hungover for this. ]
do you really think are you serious right now? you can't be. for someone so clever, i'm shocked at how much of an idiot you can be i was referring to you?
[ no. no question mark, no matter how uncertain she feels, stomach still churning at those three little words: broke us apart. ]
i was talking about YOU i never said i didn't want to be with you. you just decided for yourself that must be what i was saying. it wasn't. and aleksander already made me voiceless once, so you don't get to decide what it is i want or don't want. i'm not going anywhere. i don't WANT to go anywhere. you're stuck with me, so. get used to it.
i've only been trying to tell you that for a week.
[ he's willing to talk to her now. she has to remind herself of that, in order to release some of her frustration with her next exhale. ]
mal told me i should be honest and tell you that it's okay to be afraid. because i'm terrified too, nikolai. you're not the only one haunted by ghosts. you're not the only one still in pain. the first person i ever loved never loved me the same way, and the second could only love me as long as i was what he wanted me to be. i know you're not them, and i don't want you to be, but no one has loved me without replacing me with something or someone else. so you can tell me that you're in love with me with your whole heart, but the truth is that i'm afraid to believe you in case you change your mind. you're going to find out i'm not worth any of this and you'll leave me behind, too. people always leave me behind. so it felt even worse when you came to aleksander's party for other reasons, when i would have helped you from the start. we could have gone to his party together to get what you wanted from his files if you had just asked me.
what i was trying to tell you is that. that i'm afraid. that there are moments where i don't know where i fit in your life, and i wish you would make a little more room for me. that i want you to need me as much as i needed you that night. that it feels like you're still keeping me at arm's length sometimes because you're afraid to lose me, and it only makes me feel more alone. that you really need to stop grabbing your phone right after we're done having sex. that it would be nice if you'd turn it off for just one night. that's really all i want from you. just one night for us where nothing else has to matter, and then we can go back to dealing with the world. i wasn't trying to break up with you or start an argument. i only wanted to confide in you. i only wanted you to tell me that i was being ridiculous and that we could find a way to work on it together. but it came out all wrong, and i made you feel like you're not enough because my panic attacks are ugly to watch. you're just enough for me. i know you can't bring yourself to believe that, but it's true.
so stop taking all of the blame, nik. it's my fault too. i don't know how to be unafraid. i don't know how to ask people for the things that i need from them. but i'm trying. tell me that counts for something.
i'm not going to change my mind. i do love you, alina. nothing that happens between us can change that. and i know you're coming into this with experiences from other people, but believe me when i say i'm not going to leave you behind.
i've never been good at asking people for what i need, either. that would require admitting that i need anything at all when i've been self-reliant for nearly all of my life. but i need you to hear me when i say this. when i think about how i feel about you, it feels like a dam breaking inside of me. and no matter how many times i mend it, it still breaks, again and again. for better or for worse. i can't keep you out even when — yes, sometimes i try to hold you at arm's length. i do. sometimes i wake up and remember how much it hurts to lose someone and how i know i can't do that again. but no matter what i could try to wedge between us, i know that the dam will never stop breaking. it could never hold up against what i feel for you. that's what i can't seem to express with my actions. maybe i'm just too used to keeping every minute of my time filled and smiling through everything that could hurt me. i don't know if i can stop doing those things, but i do know that i could never stop loving you.
there's no part of you that's ugly to watch, alina. every single part of you is beautiful and brave. even the part of you that tore my shelf down in a drunken rage. i just didn't think that you wanted this anymore. all of the things that come with me.
i hear you, nikolai. what if you stopped trying to mend that dam? it can't be impossible. nothing is. someone told me that, once. maybe he had a point.
i just don't know how to make you believe me, no matter how many times i've promised that you won't lose me. that i don't need much. not fancy words or stupid crowns or all of your attention. just you. maybe that's part of the problem. we can't make each other believe anything. we can't save each other. the only thing we can do is love each other. i loved you before you loved me, i love you now, and i think i'll love you forever, if forever isn't too long for you. i should have told you that instead.
i don't know if that's enough for you to believe me. it doesn't feel like enough. but it is the truth. whatever we do, i want to do it with you. even if it means being afraid. even if it means fighting with me, sometimes. just as long as it means we're together. i was trying to tell you that all along, and now your shelf is suffering for it. nothing is going to make me walk away. and if i have to find a way to believe you'll stay, you have to find a way to believe me. however long that takes. we have a long time to figure it out together.
i believe you. of course i believe you. i don't think you'd say that just to spare my pride. alina, i don't want to be apart from you, either. i never did. i thought i was sparing you from this. i didn't want to be another person that couldn't love you in the way that you deserve.
will you promise me that if you're unhappy, you'll tell me? that if i'm not expressing this enough, you'll tell me? i want the truth always. i don't want you to be afraid of hurting me if i'm falling short.
you don’t have to worry about me saying anything to spare your pride. you have enough of it for the both of us. it’s both incredibly frustrating and impressive.
you never have to worry that i won’t tell you the truth, either. for example, i had a brief but satisfying fantasy of tossing you into the harbor when you started feeling sorry for yourself. my new tattoo reminds me of you, and i was going to show it to you. it would have been a more romantic gesture than destroying your furniture. most of all, i kept looking for you everywhere before i realized you were gone. we’re both half-brained idiots, you know. pushing each other away because we’re afraid of losing each other, when we did just that for awhile. lost each other.
if i promise to tell you, will you promise me the same? tell me if you’re unhappy, or unsure? i’m not perfect, either. you’ll learn that soon enough.
your fantasy might not have gone as you imagined. you know i'm an excellent swimmer and i happen to look exceptional while dripping wet.
i shouldn't have cut our conversation short. i admit i was running away. it's always been easier for me to throw myself into another project rather than feel a loss for what it is.
yes. i promise to do the same. will you still show it to me? your tattoo?
that only adds to my fantasy. you would have looked very pretty while i held your head underwater.
so we’re both cowards with a habit of running away. if you had looked more closely, you would have seen that i was still there. and your shelf would have survived its fatal and gruesome injuries. your coping methods might be better than mine.
i don’t know if i should. i’m waiting until it’s too late for you to run away from me once you’ve seen it. and, honestly, it’s going to make your ego even more insufferable.
then perhaps i should be thanking you for running off with my coat and my keys before giving in to the temptation to drown me.
would it be better if i blamed mal for the shelf instead? it fits his brand. we'll find new coping mechanisms. ones involving less destruction. or at least less destruction of things we own.
that's fair on one count. my ego is perfect and takes no criticism. when you feel comfortable enough to believe that i won't run off, then show it to me. waiting for you is hardly an inconvenience, starlight.
i'm not giving it back. well, i'll give it back, but only long enough for it to smell like you again.
i hear it's bad etiquette to give away the names of my accomplices. i'll pay the time for my crime alone. you only need to tell me what my penance will be. can we keep the destruction of desks on the list? that should count as creating art together.
you'll see it eventually. it would be inconvenient to always leave my hair down to hide it from you. think of all of the nights you would spend drowning and drooling in it if i did. i'll show you, but first you need to promise you won't file for a restraining order.
not to give you more bad ideas, but you could also steal my cologne and then everything can smell like me.
i only wish i could have seen aleksander's expression when he walked in and saw his desk. missing that moment will live on as an eternal regret of mine.
is it my face? please say it's my face. i've been waiting my entire life for this moment, i think.
does it qualify as stealing if you're encouraging it? you're tricking me into the thrill of stealing from you.
if i had to guess, it was probably something like the expression on his face when we left together. shocked, but mostly predictably murderous. you should've planted cameras in his office to capture the moment for yourself. a nice memento to remember him by. we all make mistakes. nikolai lantsov is as embarrassingly human as the rest of us peasants after all.
sorry to disappoint you. be grateful it isn't; i'm sure you'll see this as an opportunity to claim no canvas can capture your beauty. you have two more guesses before i decide whether to take pity on you or not. has your adoring public really never gotten your face inked into them? they seem obsessive enough.
hard to say. will you forgive me for encouraging my bad habits to rub off on you?
that, too, was a moment. a good one for me, probably not so much for him. what an excellent idea. what a missed opportunity. next time, cameras. i won't make the same mistake twice.
how will we know if we don't try? i can send you some wonderful headshots that would make great tattoos. not to my knowledge. any fan mail gets filtered to a private address for screening. i'm told it's 50/50 adoration and hatred. i have gotten a few marriage proposals, though. my name? my brother's name to spite me?
it depends on the bad habit and how well you plead your case. i'll be your jury, judge, and potential executioner. so far, you've tempted me into vandalism, arson, and theft. what's next on the list?
you can be forgiven for your oversight. you were busy playing the part of my gallant rescuer. we'll have to revisit his desk the way tourists look at war memorials and hallowed grounds.
where do you keep these headshots of yours? stashed beneath the bed for you to pull out and kiss at night? i would've gotten your brother's name, but i didn't want to be a walking advertisement for vaseline products or a public service announcement for the importance of practicing birth control. surely you'll find a way to mend his heart.
[ a short pause is followed by a picture of the design, starkly black against the pale nape of her neck and messily tangled snow-white strands that have fallen to the wayside. ]
good? terrible? never talk to you again because it's as creepy as a marriage proposal from a stranger?
[ it takes him a few long moments to respond, typing and erasing and typing again before he gives up altogether and calls her instead, sprawling out on the living room couch and idly fiddling with the measuring tape he was attempting to use to size out a new shelf. ]
It's charming.
[ he breathes out a soft chuckle, smiling as he covers his eyes with one hand. suddenly he's an infatuated schoolboy, although there is some argument to be made that he never stopped being one. this feels fragile and new again, and he doesn't want to squander this chance. ]
The fox. The star. [ it feels right. a reminder. ] It's perfect. You're so thoughtful and it's... just perfect.
[ her relief is a soft exhale of breath — somehow ringing too loudly for her pounding head to tolerate. with a wince, she shifts, the quiet creak of the mattress protesting it. and to think, only a handful of hours ago, she had wanted nothing more than to sink under the sheets and never emerge to face her mortification.
it would be laughable, if it wasn't so terrifying to consider what can change, an entire future tipping on its head, in only a handful of pivotal seconds. ]
Knowing you've gotten marriage proposals makes me feel overshadowed.
[ the crackle of her voice is one that can only be blamed on the hellish slog of a hangover, but the warmth that bleeds from it is nearly a tangible thing, as though she can press it into his palm for safekeeping even from afar. ]
I would have shown you last night. [ her teeth worry her lip. it isn't a regret, so much as the uncertainty that had bubbled to the surface, so much as — ] But if you had told me you still didn't want to be with me after I had, I think I would have died from embarrassment.
Please. It's nothing short of embarrassing. They weren't good marriage proposals. The sort that arrives in the mail never are, and I hope to never receive any like that again.
[ the attention is flattering, in a way, only because of his expanded ego, but overall the entire prospect horrifies him. he looks at the little fox again, tracing the outline with one finger. ]
I'm sorry about last night, Alina. I was in an awful mood and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. [ his attempts to hide it with inane cheer seem absurd in the light of day. ] I feel so much better about us, but Zoya's still not really speaking to me. I don't suppose Mal has been in touch with her? Also — will he be vexed if I asked you to come stay with me instead? Since I am your loyal boyfriend and all. And I miss you, as I always do, so please take pity on me and say you'll come.
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.
[ her reassurance settles his heartbeat, even if it smarts every time he has to face his own imperfections. he should be better. he will be better, an eternal promise to himself that he keeps failing to fulfill but strives toward all the same. he can only hope to get a little closer each time.
he reminds himself that mal and alina frequently share a bed. it's a notion he's still wrapping his head around, a touch jealous but mostly perplexed at how different he and zoya are together. sharing a bed only comes with absolute catastrophe. he suddenly realizes that he will be jealous if zoya is speaking to mal while ignoring all of his messages. ]
Please do. Ask Mal, I mean. I'm both concerned and offended.
[ he reluctantly drops the topic, his mind shifting to alina's — frankly ludicrous — question. the hesitation behind her words is more than apparent. ] Are you looking for me to give you a specific date of expiration? There isn't one. It's whenever you get tired of looking at my handsome face.
No. [ yes. the little huff of frustrated air that crackles into the phone's speaker betrays her, unraveling a terribly spun lie. aware she's been snared by him, she doesn't bother trying to squirm her way out of it. ] How was I supposed you weren't just trying to be polite about it?
[ clingy, mal had called him, and alina had bristled — partially from offense on nikolai's behalf, and partially from disbelief, that ever-present fear of wanting more than she's wanted. it leaves her ill-prepared for his open-ended invitation, evidence of the steps she still needs to take — learning to trust, rather than allowing doubt and fear to paralyze her until she forgets to move at all. ]
So, never. I'll never get tired of looking at you. [ a twinge of anxiety slices through her chest. he isn't asking her to move in with him — but her toothbrush next to his and her art supplies scattered across his floor feels like it. maybe seizing that room in his life would bridge the distance between them, but it doesn't erase the memories of her clothes tucked into aleksander's closet and how quickly it had all fallen apart. ] I want to, but — you're not worried it's too soon for something like that?
You're always welcome here. I thought I made that clear already, but apparently not. Truthfully — my home feels empty without you in it.
[ he hadn't altogether planned on asking her to move in, and he's still not sure that's what this is now. but what he does know is that he'll worry every minute that she's not close. her home has none of the security that his does, although he doesn't point out this very practical fact. ]
I never get tired of looking at me, either. Maybe you'll get tired of looking at me looking at me. But regardless, I'll have a key made for you today.
[ there's much he hasn't considered until this moment — how alina will know how much time he spends not sleeping, or how frequently he skips his medication, or how much wine he and zoya manage to demolish during their nights of commiseration. none of that paints him in a particularly attractive light, and he's more worried that alina's opinion of him might change for the worse rather than this happening too soon. but — ]
Do you feel like it's too soon? [ dominik never fully moved in, at least not entirely by choice than out of necessity. he has no idea at what point alina felt comfortable moving in with aleksander, if at all. it's certainly possible they're making a mistake, but he doesn't think they are. ] Just stay with me a bit. If you like the feeling, then we'll move all your things in. If you don't, I promise that I'll still be just as happy to take over your bed at your place instead.
I don't like how you're always the reasonable one.
[ equipped with his practical mind, searching for solutions to any challenge he stumbles across. that, too, is a white lie from her mouth — hollow, nothing of substance at its center, if he were to investigate it. for as chaotic as the tangle of nikolai's thoughts can be, chasing after the ambitions and adventures that gleam in his peripheral, he's been a consistent, steadying presence. an anchor, when she begins to drift off and into herself.
but even as she loosens a laugh on her next breath, she recognizes nikolai's habit of sprinkling his insecurities like kernels for her to collect, hidden amongst the charm and easy wit. here and now, it's those crumbs of insisting she might tire of him, an uncanny reflection of her own fears. ]
Luckily for me, I have ways of making you look at me instead of whatever shiny surfaces you find. [ idly, she taps her fingers against the sheets, warring with her own tongue before she admits, ] I don't know if it's too soon, but I think ... it helps in showing us this isn't temporary. That you've made room for me in your life, and I've made room for you in mine. Having a physical reminder of that couldn't hurt, could it?
[ it could be a disaster, but — it could be good for them, a leap of progress she hadn't considered, if their testing phase goes smoothly. releasing her anxiety to the wind, she grasps for a deep, stabilizing breath. ]
So I'll agree to your experiment, but I have conditions. [ as though she hadn't been worried, two minutes earlier, of infringing and forcing her way into his life. though unseen, the smile seeps into her voice, a soft and basking warmth. ] You'll let me paint your walls, and you'll come to bed when I ask. I get cold without you there.
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no subject
there's everything to talk about.
[ or there would be, if her mind wasn't filled with: ???????????????????????? christ, she's too hungover for this. ]
do you really think
are you serious right now? you can't be.
for someone so clever, i'm shocked at how much of an idiot you can be
i was referring to you?
[ no. no question mark, no matter how uncertain she feels, stomach still churning at those three little words: broke us apart. ]
i was talking about YOU
i never said i didn't want to be with you. you just decided for yourself that must be what i was saying.
it wasn't. and aleksander already made me voiceless once, so you don't get to decide what it is i want or don't want.
i'm not going anywhere. i don't WANT to go anywhere. you're stuck with me, so. get used to it.
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did you say yes or no to the commission? i suddenly can't remember.
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but i'll say yes if you admit you're an idiot
[ #romantic. ]
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what on earth were you saying if not that?
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[ he's willing to talk to her now. she has to remind herself of that, in order to release some of her frustration with her next exhale. ]
mal told me i should be honest and tell you that it's okay to be afraid.
because i'm terrified too, nikolai. you're not the only one haunted by ghosts. you're not the only one still in pain.
the first person i ever loved never loved me the same way, and the second could only love me as long as i was what he wanted me to be.
i know you're not them, and i don't want you to be, but no one has loved me without replacing me with something or someone else.
so you can tell me that you're in love with me with your whole heart, but the truth is that i'm afraid to believe you in case you change your mind.
you're going to find out i'm not worth any of this and you'll leave me behind, too. people always leave me behind.
so it felt even worse when you came to aleksander's party for other reasons, when i would have helped you from the start. we could have gone to his party together to get what you wanted from his files if you had just asked me.
what i was trying to tell you is that. that i'm afraid. that there are moments where i don't know where i fit in your life, and i wish you would make a little more room for me. that i want you to need me as much as i needed you that night.
that it feels like you're still keeping me at arm's length sometimes because you're afraid to lose me, and it only makes me feel more alone.
that you really need to stop grabbing your phone right after we're done having sex. that it would be nice if you'd turn it off for just one night.
that's really all i want from you. just one night for us where nothing else has to matter, and then we can go back to dealing with the world.
i wasn't trying to break up with you or start an argument. i only wanted to confide in you.
i only wanted you to tell me that i was being ridiculous and that we could find a way to work on it together.
but it came out all wrong, and i made you feel like you're not enough because my panic attacks are ugly to watch.
you're just enough for me. i know you can't bring yourself to believe that, but it's true.
so stop taking all of the blame, nik. it's my fault too.
i don't know how to be unafraid.
i don't know how to ask people for the things that i need from them.
but i'm trying. tell me that counts for something.
no subject
i do love you, alina. nothing that happens between us can change that.
and i know you're coming into this with experiences from other people, but believe me when i say i'm not going to leave you behind.
i've never been good at asking people for what i need, either. that would require admitting that i need anything at all when i've been self-reliant for nearly all of my life. but i need you to hear me when i say this.
when i think about how i feel about you, it feels like a dam breaking inside of me. and no matter how many times i mend it, it still breaks, again and again. for better or for worse. i can't keep you out even when — yes, sometimes i try to hold you at arm's length. i do. sometimes i wake up and remember how much it hurts to lose someone and how i know i can't do that again. but no matter what i could try to wedge between us, i know that the dam will never stop breaking. it could never hold up against what i feel for you.
that's what i can't seem to express with my actions. maybe i'm just too used to keeping every minute of my time filled and smiling through everything that could hurt me. i don't know if i can stop doing those things, but i do know that i could never stop loving you.
there's no part of you that's ugly to watch, alina. every single part of you is beautiful and brave.
even the part of you that tore my shelf down in a drunken rage.
i just didn't think that you wanted this anymore. all of the things that come with me.
no subject
what if you stopped trying to mend that dam? it can't be impossible.
nothing is. someone told me that, once. maybe he had a point.
i just don't know how to make you believe me, no matter how many times i've promised that you won't lose me.
that i don't need much. not fancy words or stupid crowns or all of your attention. just you.
maybe that's part of the problem. we can't make each other believe anything. we can't save each other.
the only thing we can do is love each other.
i loved you before you loved me, i love you now, and i think i'll love you forever, if forever isn't too long for you.
i should have told you that instead.
i don't know if that's enough for you to believe me. it doesn't feel like enough.
but it is the truth.
whatever we do, i want to do it with you. even if it means being afraid. even if it means fighting with me, sometimes. just as long as it means we're together.
i was trying to tell you that all along, and now your shelf is suffering for it.
nothing is going to make me walk away. and if i have to find a way to believe you'll stay, you have to find a way to believe me. however long that takes.
we have a long time to figure it out together.
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i don't think you'd say that just to spare my pride.
alina, i don't want to be apart from you, either.
i never did. i thought i was sparing you from this.
i didn't want to be another person that couldn't love you in the way that you deserve.
will you promise me that if you're unhappy, you'll tell me?
that if i'm not expressing this enough, you'll tell me?
i want the truth always. i don't want you to be afraid of hurting me if i'm falling short.
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it’s both incredibly frustrating and impressive.
you never have to worry that i won’t tell you the truth, either.
for example, i had a brief but satisfying fantasy of tossing you into the harbor when you started feeling sorry for yourself.
my new tattoo reminds me of you, and i was going to show it to you. it would have been a more romantic gesture than destroying your furniture.
most of all, i kept looking for you everywhere before i realized you were gone.
we’re both half-brained idiots, you know. pushing each other away because we’re afraid of losing each other, when we did just that for awhile. lost each other.
if i promise to tell you, will you promise me the same? tell me if you’re unhappy, or unsure?
i’m not perfect, either. you’ll learn that soon enough.
no subject
you know i'm an excellent swimmer and i happen to look exceptional while dripping wet.
i shouldn't have cut our conversation short. i admit i was running away.
it's always been easier for me to throw myself into another project rather than feel a loss for what it is.
yes. i promise to do the same.
will you still show it to me? your tattoo?
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you would have looked very pretty while i held your head underwater.
so we’re both cowards with a habit of running away.
if you had looked more closely, you would have seen that i was still there.
and your shelf would have survived its fatal and gruesome injuries.
your coping methods might be better than mine.
i don’t know if i should.
i’m waiting until it’s too late for you to run away from me once you’ve seen it.
and, honestly, it’s going to make your ego even more insufferable.
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would it be better if i blamed mal for the shelf instead?
it fits his brand.
we'll find new coping mechanisms. ones involving less destruction.
or at least less destruction of things we own.
that's fair on one count. my ego is perfect and takes no criticism.
when you feel comfortable enough to believe that i won't run off, then show it to me.
waiting for you is hardly an inconvenience, starlight.
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well, i'll give it back, but only long enough for it to smell like you again.
i hear it's bad etiquette to give away the names of my accomplices.
i'll pay the time for my crime alone. you only need to tell me what my penance will be.
can we keep the destruction of desks on the list? that should count as creating art together.
you'll see it eventually. it would be inconvenient to always leave my hair down to hide it from you.
think of all of the nights you would spend drowning and drooling in it if i did.
i'll show you, but first you need to promise you won't file for a restraining order.
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i only wish i could have seen aleksander's expression when he walked in and saw his desk.
missing that moment will live on as an eternal regret of mine.
is it my face? please say it's my face.
i've been waiting my entire life for this moment, i think.
no subject
you're tricking me into the thrill of stealing from you.
if i had to guess, it was probably something like the expression on his face when we left together. shocked, but mostly predictably murderous.
you should've planted cameras in his office to capture the moment for yourself. a nice memento to remember him by.
we all make mistakes. nikolai lantsov is as embarrassingly human as the rest of us peasants after all.
sorry to disappoint you. be grateful it isn't; i'm sure you'll see this as an opportunity to claim no canvas can capture your beauty.
you have two more guesses before i decide whether to take pity on you or not.
has your adoring public really never gotten your face inked into them? they seem obsessive enough.
no subject
will you forgive me for encouraging my bad habits to rub off on you?
that, too, was a moment. a good one for me, probably not so much for him.
what an excellent idea. what a missed opportunity.
next time, cameras. i won't make the same mistake twice.
how will we know if we don't try?
i can send you some wonderful headshots that would make great tattoos.
not to my knowledge. any fan mail gets filtered to a private address for screening.
i'm told it's 50/50 adoration and hatred. i have gotten a few marriage proposals, though.
my name? my brother's name to spite me?
no subject
i'll be your jury, judge, and potential executioner.
so far, you've tempted me into vandalism, arson, and theft. what's next on the list?
you can be forgiven for your oversight. you were busy playing the part of my gallant rescuer.
we'll have to revisit his desk the way tourists look at war memorials and hallowed grounds.
where do you keep these headshots of yours? stashed beneath the bed for you to pull out and kiss at night?
i would've gotten your brother's name, but i didn't want to be a walking advertisement for vaseline products
or a public service announcement for the importance of practicing birth control.
surely you'll find a way to mend his heart.
[ a short pause is followed by a picture of the design, starkly black against the pale nape of her neck and messily tangled snow-white strands that have fallen to the wayside. ]
good? terrible? never talk to you again because it's as creepy as a marriage proposal from a stranger?
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It's charming.
[ he breathes out a soft chuckle, smiling as he covers his eyes with one hand. suddenly he's an infatuated schoolboy, although there is some argument to be made that he never stopped being one. this feels fragile and new again, and he doesn't want to squander this chance. ]
The fox. The star. [ it feels right. a reminder. ] It's perfect. You're so thoughtful and it's... just perfect.
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it would be laughable, if it wasn't so terrifying to consider what can change, an entire future tipping on its head, in only a handful of pivotal seconds. ]
Knowing you've gotten marriage proposals makes me feel overshadowed.
[ the crackle of her voice is one that can only be blamed on the hellish slog of a hangover, but the warmth that bleeds from it is nearly a tangible thing, as though she can press it into his palm for safekeeping even from afar. ]
I would have shown you last night. [ her teeth worry her lip. it isn't a regret, so much as the uncertainty that had bubbled to the surface, so much as — ] But if you had told me you still didn't want to be with me after I had, I think I would have died from embarrassment.
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[ the attention is flattering, in a way, only because of his expanded ego, but overall the entire prospect horrifies him. he looks at the little fox again, tracing the outline with one finger. ]
I'm sorry about last night, Alina. I was in an awful mood and I shouldn't have taken it out on you. [ his attempts to hide it with inane cheer seem absurd in the light of day. ] I feel so much better about us, but Zoya's still not really speaking to me. I don't suppose Mal has been in touch with her? Also — will he be vexed if I asked you to come stay with me instead? Since I am your loyal boyfriend and all. And I miss you, as I always do, so please take pity on me and say you'll come.
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[ 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.
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[ her reassurance settles his heartbeat, even if it smarts every time he has to face his own imperfections. he should be better. he will be better, an eternal promise to himself that he keeps failing to fulfill but strives toward all the same. he can only hope to get a little closer each time.
he reminds himself that mal and alina frequently share a bed. it's a notion he's still wrapping his head around, a touch jealous but mostly perplexed at how different he and zoya are together. sharing a bed only comes with absolute catastrophe. he suddenly realizes that he will be jealous if zoya is speaking to mal while ignoring all of his messages. ]
Please do. Ask Mal, I mean. I'm both concerned and offended.
[ he reluctantly drops the topic, his mind shifting to alina's — frankly ludicrous — question. the hesitation behind her words is more than apparent. ] Are you looking for me to give you a specific date of expiration? There isn't one. It's whenever you get tired of looking at my handsome face.
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[ clingy, mal had called him, and alina had bristled — partially from offense on nikolai's behalf, and partially from disbelief, that ever-present fear of wanting more than she's wanted. it leaves her ill-prepared for his open-ended invitation, evidence of the steps she still needs to take — learning to trust, rather than allowing doubt and fear to paralyze her until she forgets to move at all. ]
So, never. I'll never get tired of looking at you. [ a twinge of anxiety slices through her chest. he isn't asking her to move in with him — but her toothbrush next to his and her art supplies scattered across his floor feels like it. maybe seizing that room in his life would bridge the distance between them, but it doesn't erase the memories of her clothes tucked into aleksander's closet and how quickly it had all fallen apart. ] I want to, but — you're not worried it's too soon for something like that?
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[ he hadn't altogether planned on asking her to move in, and he's still not sure that's what this is now. but what he does know is that he'll worry every minute that she's not close. her home has none of the security that his does, although he doesn't point out this very practical fact. ]
I never get tired of looking at me, either. Maybe you'll get tired of looking at me looking at me. But regardless, I'll have a key made for you today.
[ there's much he hasn't considered until this moment — how alina will know how much time he spends not sleeping, or how frequently he skips his medication, or how much wine he and zoya manage to demolish during their nights of commiseration. none of that paints him in a particularly attractive light, and he's more worried that alina's opinion of him might change for the worse rather than this happening too soon. but — ]
Do you feel like it's too soon? [ dominik never fully moved in, at least not entirely by choice than out of necessity. he has no idea at what point alina felt comfortable moving in with aleksander, if at all. it's certainly possible they're making a mistake, but he doesn't think they are. ] Just stay with me a bit. If you like the feeling, then we'll move all your things in. If you don't, I promise that I'll still be just as happy to take over your bed at your place instead.
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[ equipped with his practical mind, searching for solutions to any challenge he stumbles across. that, too, is a white lie from her mouth — hollow, nothing of substance at its center, if he were to investigate it. for as chaotic as the tangle of nikolai's thoughts can be, chasing after the ambitions and adventures that gleam in his peripheral, he's been a consistent, steadying presence. an anchor, when she begins to drift off and into herself.
but even as she loosens a laugh on her next breath, she recognizes nikolai's habit of sprinkling his insecurities like kernels for her to collect, hidden amongst the charm and easy wit. here and now, it's those crumbs of insisting she might tire of him, an uncanny reflection of her own fears. ]
Luckily for me, I have ways of making you look at me instead of whatever shiny surfaces you find. [ idly, she taps her fingers against the sheets, warring with her own tongue before she admits, ] I don't know if it's too soon, but I think ... it helps in showing us this isn't temporary. That you've made room for me in your life, and I've made room for you in mine. Having a physical reminder of that couldn't hurt, could it?
[ it could be a disaster, but — it could be good for them, a leap of progress she hadn't considered, if their testing phase goes smoothly. releasing her anxiety to the wind, she grasps for a deep, stabilizing breath. ]
So I'll agree to your experiment, but I have conditions. [ as though she hadn't been worried, two minutes earlier, of infringing and forcing her way into his life. though unseen, the smile seeps into her voice, a soft and basking warmth. ] You'll let me paint your walls, and you'll come to bed when I ask. I get cold without you there.
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