[ her sorrow pulls at his heart and adds to the eternally growing frustration he already feels when thinking about aleksander. the man has been allowed to carelessly lay waste to whatever he chooses and nikolai's pressing need to put a stop to it is only incensed further with the more alina reveals. his arms wind readily around her when she leans into him, her hair tickling his cheek. ]
He hasn't. [ he says it with an easy conviction because he truly believes it. ] And he never will.
[ for a brief moment he thinks to tell her of the plan he's formulating with zoya — reckless, high-risk, but with an equally high potential payoff. that thought gets squirreled away. he knows enough about alina to know there isn't a single part of her that would approve of what he's planning. nikolai barely approves of what he's planning. his only comfort is that it's zoya, and zoya can more than handle anything thrown at her.
he huffs out a small laugh against her hair. ]
What I'm getting into? You mean looking over my shoulder for a little ghost named Morozova? I was already doing that. You're not bringing my ruin upon me, Alina. [ he pulls her into his lap, his hands lifting to cradle her face as he gazes up at her with a gentle smile. ] Everything else that I'm getting into with you just makes me want to kiss you more.
[ he draws her closer, until he can feel the warmth of her breath across his skin, their lips just barely grazing while his heartbeat quickens yet again in nervous anticipation. there have been people since dominik, names he's forgotten and faces that are just a blur in his memories. there hasn't been anyone like alina. ] May I?
[ he can't know that with any certainty. he can't, but his belief is so unflinchingly solid that she grasps for it to keep herself afloat. it's merely another way in which he embodies the sea for her, a calm and peaceful presence that lulls her. maybe that, too, is a hazard to her heart — his easy ability to find the words she needs to hear, how gracefully he inspires faith in him — but it's a steadiness she aches for.
the curl to her smile is shy, a glimpse of light being coaxed out of the shadow of her mood. ]
You're only saying that because you love terrible ideas.
[ she might be the worst of them yet, but nikolai hasn't so much as flinched in the face of every tarnish and mark she's hastily exposed — like ripping off a bandage and praying for only a quick sting — no matter the grotesqueness of it, or the size of it. she doesn't know what to do with that — the safety in knowing he won't shy from the ugly, broken pieces that are sometimes too sharp to hold. the intimacy of his eyes on her, now, like he's taking in all of her. truly paying attention.
this close, it's impossible to miss the harsh bobbing of her throat as she swallows. the flutter of her eyelashes against her cheeks as she watches the glide of his mouth against her own, gentle and inviting. she can only offer a nod that's a moot point, anyway, when the caress of her mouth is answer enough — a teasing whisper at one corner of his own, and then the other, before she captures it. it's soft, yielding, more like a ripple of wings — there and gone each time they meet.
and nothing like the fingers that have twisted themselves tightly in the collar of his shirt, that slide upward to cup the sharp line of his jaw only to cradle his face, skate down his chest before she fits her own body flush against him, curl around the nape of his neck to hold him steady as she gently parts his lips with a swipe of her tongue — uncertain of where to linger, now that she's been allowed to touch him outside of a distant, unreachable daydream. ]
[ it's absurdly terrifying, in the first moment, like the ground has dropped away from beneath them. it's like pushing open a door on rusted hinges, a door he's kept shut for so long that it feels like a dare to walk through, but when alina's body presses to his he's suddenly anchored to this moment. his lips part readily, allowing her warmth into his mouth and sucking gently at her tongue. the cold is forgotten as the ache of desire sparks between them, his hands gliding down her shoulders to her waist where he slips beneath her shirt to skim his fingers along the curve of her back.
her skin is so soft, and he wonders if his fingertips are touching another hidden tattoo weighted with a meaning he can't wait to discover. ]
Is this such a terrible idea?
[ murmured against her mouth, a flash of a smile curling his lips before he kisses her again, his teeth gently catching the pout of her bottom lip. his fingers roam to her sides and higher up to the swell of her breasts, circling around to unhook her bra. maybe it's too fast, but he's sure she'll stop him if she wants to — and besides, he has been to slow to get here. it feels like forever since he's kissed someone like this, wanting to memorize every detail and touch every bit of her skin.
he tugs her bra out from beneath her shirt, his hands sliding over her breasts at the same time a soft groan escapes his lips, his pulse quickening, and a flush rises in his cheeks that he will fervently deny despite the fact that he can feel his face warming. ]
Alina. [ he breaks the kiss to take a breath but can't keep away for long, his lips trailing along the slope of her jaw down to the soft skin at her throat, sucking sharply below her ear before he kisses her there, his tongue pressing gently to her skin. he thumbs a nipple, his eyes cracking open hazily. ] Tell me if this is all right.
[ little pinpricks of wind bite into her skin, exposed to the night air as his touch rucks up her sweater. her own fingers are unapologetically chilled as they greedily slide beneath his shirt, chasing away the heated drag of her nails down the plane of his abdomen and the fading white scratches they leave in their wake. alina's heart is still in her throat, and it's been so long since she's searched out the vulnerability that intimacy demands, since she's allowed herself to trust the hands that hold her. all factors that should make this moment messy and imperfect, but she knows there was never going to be any other answer other than: ]
It's perfect.
[ hinged on the edge of a sharp intake of breath, stirring strands of hair as she nuzzles his temple. perfect and unfair; his mouth should be a weapon for how easily it targets the sensitive slope of her neck, as if already aware of where to lick and suck and kiss to coax out the low whine from her throat. and still it's not quite so addicting as the groan that flies from his mouth, that makes her wonder if the champagne is already coursing through her system with how intoxicating she finds that single sound, and how desperately she wants to be the reason he makes those pretty noises again and again and again.
her hands push his back into the loveseat so she can work the sweater over her head and carelessly toss it aside, waiting for the self-consciousness that never comes. there's something too empowering in the flush overtaking him, in being undeniably wanted by him, for her to cover herself — even as her mouth parts around a gasp while her eyes lock to his, a callous catching on the pebbling bud of her nipple as his thumb teases it. ]
I want you. [ it sighs out of her as she devours the sight of him, her hands guiding the glide of his fingers down the dip of her waist, the sharp divot of her hips, back to her breasts as she pushes herself into his palms. she tightens his grip until their fingers dig into her skin and then releases him, thumb tugging at his lower lip as she swirls her hips in slow circles over his lap — a glide to tease him with the promise of friction, despite the weight of open honesty in her voice when she murmurs, ] So much.
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no subject
He hasn't. [ he says it with an easy conviction because he truly believes it. ] And he never will.
[ for a brief moment he thinks to tell her of the plan he's formulating with zoya — reckless, high-risk, but with an equally high potential payoff. that thought gets squirreled away. he knows enough about alina to know there isn't a single part of her that would approve of what he's planning. nikolai barely approves of what he's planning. his only comfort is that it's zoya, and zoya can more than handle anything thrown at her.
he huffs out a small laugh against her hair. ]
What I'm getting into? You mean looking over my shoulder for a little ghost named Morozova? I was already doing that. You're not bringing my ruin upon me, Alina. [ he pulls her into his lap, his hands lifting to cradle her face as he gazes up at her with a gentle smile. ] Everything else that I'm getting into with you just makes me want to kiss you more.
[ he draws her closer, until he can feel the warmth of her breath across his skin, their lips just barely grazing while his heartbeat quickens yet again in nervous anticipation. there have been people since dominik, names he's forgotten and faces that are just a blur in his memories. there hasn't been anyone like alina. ] May I?
no subject
the curl to her smile is shy, a glimpse of light being coaxed out of the shadow of her mood. ]
You're only saying that because you love terrible ideas.
[ she might be the worst of them yet, but nikolai hasn't so much as flinched in the face of every tarnish and mark she's hastily exposed — like ripping off a bandage and praying for only a quick sting — no matter the grotesqueness of it, or the size of it. she doesn't know what to do with that — the safety in knowing he won't shy from the ugly, broken pieces that are sometimes too sharp to hold. the intimacy of his eyes on her, now, like he's taking in all of her. truly paying attention.
this close, it's impossible to miss the harsh bobbing of her throat as she swallows. the flutter of her eyelashes against her cheeks as she watches the glide of his mouth against her own, gentle and inviting. she can only offer a nod that's a moot point, anyway, when the caress of her mouth is answer enough — a teasing whisper at one corner of his own, and then the other, before she captures it. it's soft, yielding, more like a ripple of wings — there and gone each time they meet.
and nothing like the fingers that have twisted themselves tightly in the collar of his shirt, that slide upward to cup the sharp line of his jaw only to cradle his face, skate down his chest before she fits her own body flush against him, curl around the nape of his neck to hold him steady as she gently parts his lips with a swipe of her tongue — uncertain of where to linger, now that she's been allowed to touch him outside of a distant, unreachable daydream. ]
no subject
her skin is so soft, and he wonders if his fingertips are touching another hidden tattoo weighted with a meaning he can't wait to discover. ]
Is this such a terrible idea?
[ murmured against her mouth, a flash of a smile curling his lips before he kisses her again, his teeth gently catching the pout of her bottom lip. his fingers roam to her sides and higher up to the swell of her breasts, circling around to unhook her bra. maybe it's too fast, but he's sure she'll stop him if she wants to — and besides, he has been to slow to get here. it feels like forever since he's kissed someone like this, wanting to memorize every detail and touch every bit of her skin.
he tugs her bra out from beneath her shirt, his hands sliding over her breasts at the same time a soft groan escapes his lips, his pulse quickening, and a flush rises in his cheeks that he will fervently deny despite the fact that he can feel his face warming. ]
Alina. [ he breaks the kiss to take a breath but can't keep away for long, his lips trailing along the slope of her jaw down to the soft skin at her throat, sucking sharply below her ear before he kisses her there, his tongue pressing gently to her skin. he thumbs a nipple, his eyes cracking open hazily. ] Tell me if this is all right.
no subject
It's perfect.
[ hinged on the edge of a sharp intake of breath, stirring strands of hair as she nuzzles his temple. perfect and unfair; his mouth should be a weapon for how easily it targets the sensitive slope of her neck, as if already aware of where to lick and suck and kiss to coax out the low whine from her throat. and still it's not quite so addicting as the groan that flies from his mouth, that makes her wonder if the champagne is already coursing through her system with how intoxicating she finds that single sound, and how desperately she wants to be the reason he makes those pretty noises again and again and again.
her hands push his back into the loveseat so she can work the sweater over her head and carelessly toss it aside, waiting for the self-consciousness that never comes. there's something too empowering in the flush overtaking him, in being undeniably wanted by him, for her to cover herself — even as her mouth parts around a gasp while her eyes lock to his, a callous catching on the pebbling bud of her nipple as his thumb teases it. ]
I want you. [ it sighs out of her as she devours the sight of him, her hands guiding the glide of his fingers down the dip of her waist, the sharp divot of her hips, back to her breasts as she pushes herself into his palms. she tightens his grip until their fingers dig into her skin and then releases him, thumb tugging at his lower lip as she swirls her hips in slow circles over his lap — a glide to tease him with the promise of friction, despite the weight of open honesty in her voice when she murmurs, ] So much.