[ she touches her hand to the pendant gently. honestly, she'd not given it two thoughts. she'd been so frustrated by her sense that ianthe had betrayed her, and the other item was purely sentimental in its value, that she hadn't considered trying to get the accessories back to ianthe. she saw no practical necessity for addressing that.
now she feels a little like a monster, for just letting it sit there unused in her drawer, out of sight so she didn't have to think about it, while ianthe suffered from its absence. ]
[She dropped her gaze to look at the pendant instead of Alina's eyes. Her skin itched again, the impulse to tear it off was there, bone hand reaching over to dig phalanges into the space between ulna and radius.
Fuck it. If she was going to go here, she was going to go here.]
The drinking was because I didn't want to feel the pain of your... fear, anger, whatever it was. It really did feel like you ripped my heart out when you accused me of being just like him. I am a bad person. I know what I am. I do terrible things, but not to you. Not intentionally. Because I l--
[She caught herself before it came out of her mouth, a sensation in the middle of her chest that she was going to explode.]
I thought I mattered. That I'd shown you that I'm not like him, even with all my sharp edges that still somehow cut you. That maybe we were figuring out how to make it work with Nikolai. I've given you pieces of me no one else here has, and you threw all that in my face.
[Her vision turned watery, blurring her view of the pendant.]
I know now that there were... extenuating circumstances, but it hurt. A lot. So I drank to not feel that. To not feel anything. To not hear her voice beckoning me. To not feel you.
[The two of them were tied together because of the amplifier. Some days, that necromantic connection had been too much.]
cw: mental illness, some minor internalized ableism and self-loathing, abuse
[ it's hard not to take ianthe's pain as affirmation of all the worst things she believes about herself. impossible, really. she had never conceived of ianthe as someone who was fragile, someone that alina could fracture at all. she was more capable, harder, darker. ianthe was the whetstone that sharpened others and never lost its hardness.
yet alina had managed it.
she tries to look back, to find holes that absolve her of this. that reimagine ianthe as especially sensitive or revisionist. something awful that ianthe had done that she was overlooking, but there's nothing. for all that ianthe's candor could be abrasive, her behavior had only ever been supportive.
alina just doesn't want to be the monster. that's all. she doesn't want to be right about becoming aleksander, becoming so very similar that she manages to even ruin ianthe of all people. ]
I'm sorry. It's not you. It's nothing you did. It's — [ she shakes her head. ] I don't know. I didn't see it in him. I keep looking for it in everyone else, so it doesn't happen again. Not that it's helped.
[ nikolai had still lied to her, hadn't he? she'd allowed it. she'd wanted the peace of pretending. ]
You matter. I'm just ... [ she bites down on her lower lip. ] I don't think I'm cut out for this, anymore.
[Ianthe was silent for a long moment as she turned over the moment. It felt like they were on a precipice of something that was both beautiful and horrific. Trauma was a hell of a thing to navigate, required so much patience, and thick skin. Could she withstand it... just take the abuse and suspicion that would stem from that trauma? Was it possible for Alina to bleed her dry when she emotionally ripped into her?
Was she worth it? There was that question again. Some would say with as often as it passed through her mind that the answer should be obvious. Everyone had a limit, right?]
I'm not going anywhere.
[This wasn't it. Pain was transitive. Temporary. People always hurt the ones they love the most. Alina didn't love her, but maybe some day she would. If for but a moment.
Ianthe slid her arms around Alina's waist, nudging her body between legs so she could get close as she looked up at Alina.]
I said I'd be here. I meant it. Trauma is a complex beast. I forgive you. I'm here for you. I missed you, even though it hurt. We can figure this out. Together.
[ alina spreads her thighs, makes room for ianthe between them, melts in her efforts at sustaining distance because she cannot help but yearn for that kind of comfort and relief, for that affirmation and support. her arms settle around ianthe. her chin rests on the crown of ianthe's head.
she's quiet, trying to turn over the likelihood that ianthe is right. that she can be here for alina, that they can figure it out together, that alina even knows what that would look like. ]
Do you think Genya ran? [ she'd presumed it was aleksander, all this time. but now ... ]
[It was only then, when Alina accepted and settled about her, that a tear escaped Ianthe's control to drip onto her cheek. She sighed in relief, fingers curling in to hold tight to the moment.
It did make the question a little jarring. Ianthe hadn't thought of Genya since Alina told her the woman had disappeared. Aside from being an example of Aleksander's cruelty and a good seamstress, the woman had been rather dull.]
I don't know. The one time I asked her to meet with me, she never showed. I assumed she just disappeared like so many others have.
Unless there's context to that question I'm not aware of.
You're not, but... Alina, nothing - no one - worth having is ever easy. A friend, a lover... more? It takes effort, work, and sacrifice. I might suck at it, but I know what it takes.
[Ianthe was a liar, but she wasn't going to point that out. That wasn't the way Alina meant it anyway; she knew the kind of things Ianthe did.]
And her disappearance isn't your fault. I fail to see how you ruined anything with her.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[ she touches her hand to the pendant gently. honestly, she'd not given it two thoughts. she'd been so frustrated by her sense that ianthe had betrayed her, and the other item was purely sentimental in its value, that she hadn't considered trying to get the accessories back to ianthe. she saw no practical necessity for addressing that.
now she feels a little like a monster, for just letting it sit there unused in her drawer, out of sight so she didn't have to think about it, while ianthe suffered from its absence. ]
cw: self harm, alcohol abuse, emotional abuse
[She dropped her gaze to look at the pendant instead of Alina's eyes. Her skin itched again, the impulse to tear it off was there, bone hand reaching over to dig phalanges into the space between ulna and radius.
Fuck it. If she was going to go here, she was going to go here.]
The drinking was because I didn't want to feel the pain of your... fear, anger, whatever it was. It really did feel like you ripped my heart out when you accused me of being just like him. I am a bad person. I know what I am. I do terrible things, but not to you. Not intentionally. Because I l--
[She caught herself before it came out of her mouth, a sensation in the middle of her chest that she was going to explode.]
I thought I mattered. That I'd shown you that I'm not like him, even with all my sharp edges that still somehow cut you. That maybe we were figuring out how to make it work with Nikolai. I've given you pieces of me no one else here has, and you threw all that in my face.
[Her vision turned watery, blurring her view of the pendant.]
I know now that there were... extenuating circumstances, but it hurt. A lot. So I drank to not feel that. To not feel anything. To not hear her voice beckoning me. To not feel you.
[The two of them were tied together because of the amplifier. Some days, that necromantic connection had been too much.]
cw: mental illness, some minor internalized ableism and self-loathing, abuse
yet alina had managed it.
she tries to look back, to find holes that absolve her of this. that reimagine ianthe as especially sensitive or revisionist. something awful that ianthe had done that she was overlooking, but there's nothing. for all that ianthe's candor could be abrasive, her behavior had only ever been supportive.
alina just doesn't want to be the monster. that's all. she doesn't want to be right about becoming aleksander, becoming so very similar that she manages to even ruin ianthe of all people. ]
I'm sorry. It's not you. It's nothing you did. It's — [ she shakes her head. ] I don't know. I didn't see it in him. I keep looking for it in everyone else, so it doesn't happen again. Not that it's helped.
[ nikolai had still lied to her, hadn't he? she'd allowed it. she'd wanted the peace of pretending. ]
You matter. I'm just ... [ she bites down on her lower lip. ] I don't think I'm cut out for this, anymore.
cw: trauma, abuse, codependency
Was she worth it? There was that question again. Some would say with as often as it passed through her mind that the answer should be obvious. Everyone had a limit, right?]
I'm not going anywhere.
[This wasn't it. Pain was transitive. Temporary. People always hurt the ones they love the most. Alina didn't love her, but maybe some day she would. If for but a moment.
Ianthe slid her arms around Alina's waist, nudging her body between legs so she could get close as she looked up at Alina.]
I said I'd be here. I meant it. Trauma is a complex beast. I forgive you. I'm here for you. I missed you, even though it hurt. We can figure this out. Together.
no subject
she's quiet, trying to turn over the likelihood that ianthe is right. that she can be here for alina, that they can figure it out together, that alina even knows what that would look like. ]
Do you think Genya ran? [ she'd presumed it was aleksander, all this time. but now ... ]
no subject
It did make the question a little jarring. Ianthe hadn't thought of Genya since Alina told her the woman had disappeared. Aside from being an example of Aleksander's cruelty and a good seamstress, the woman had been rather dull.]
I don't know. The one time I asked her to meet with me, she never showed. I assumed she just disappeared like so many others have.
Unless there's context to that question I'm not aware of.
no subject
[ her grip is tight, firm. not quite clinging, but steady. ]
Just like I ruined it with Mal. [ she shuts her eyes. ] I'm not easy to be here for. Anyone who isn't a liar seems to give up.
no subject
[Ianthe was a liar, but she wasn't going to point that out. That wasn't the way Alina meant it anyway; she knew the kind of things Ianthe did.]
And her disappearance isn't your fault. I fail to see how you ruined anything with her.
no subject
[ unfeeling, shallow and light. ]
You're probably right.
[ her voice is a rough croak. she reaches up with one hand, smoothes it over ianthe's hair. sits with that for a moment. ]
I'm sorry.
no subject
Thank you. For apologizing.
[She wasn't going to say it was okay, because it wasn't. Ianthe had forgiven her, but she wasn't going to dismiss the impact it had.]