( there's always the chance that he's too much like baghra, of course. or that he allowed his ambition to utterly swallow his joy.
regardless, it's probably not the sort of conversation outside like this, where anyone could witness. after holding her gaze for a drawn out moment, he breaks the contact, turning his attention back to the hall. )
[ she crouches down to get it. the mat is filthy, but she's used to dirt, even now. she barely crinkles her nose at it before standing to unlock the door.
this isn't how house-shopping in the up had been. there'd been a man who showed her places, curated them. who'd negotiated times to visit and gotten the key out of a lock box. but this isn't the up.
she lets the darkling in first, then follows after and shuts the door on what might be his new apartment. ]
( in contrast to the outer hall, the apartment is well-kept and, perhaps most shocking of all: clean.
or as clean as anything gets in the down.
the kitchen is larger than the one in the current apartment, with room for the pair of them to manouver. the walls are painted in a shade of blue that flirts closer with grey, but still manages to appear cheerful. there's a small room off to the side with beat-up washing machine and a rainbow of cleaning supplies. he doesn't linger on these ㅡ though there's some appeal in not having to take his laundry off-site ㅡ before moving on to the living room.
the living room is ... nice. it's better than nice, actually. it's downright cozy. the small space packed with comfortable furniture and shelves upon shelves of books. ) How much of these, do you think, are actually readable?
( aleksander doesn't seem especially put out about it, at least. the idea of having a library of any sort is only marginally more attractive than the idea of living somewhere other than his current apartment.
and he'll be able to fill the shelves himself with time. )
Though one would think that a city driven by sex would be significantly less formulaic about it. ( this said idly as he departs from the room, heading toward the bedroom. )
You're criticizing their approach? [ not the overall issues themselves, but the tone? alina snorts. she wanders after him, not really thinking hard about what else there is to see and where, therefore, they'll wind up. ] It's not as if centuries have made you particularly inventive.
[ there's no good answer to that. alina draws up short, feeling somehow caught in a trap. every conversation with him feels that way, the great space between them littered with mines. she gapes like a fish for a moment. ]
It hardly affects me anymore, does it? [ they're not doing that anymore. she shakes her head minutely, chin down like she's seeking confirmation. ] It's none of my business.
When has that ever stopped you? ( a hint of amusement, now. the threat of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
it would be impressive, really, how deftly he's managed to burrow himself into her mind if it weren't also so very irritating. how do you unmesh something so thoroughly entangled? was such a thing even possible?
did he really want it, even if it was?
they press on. the bedroom is ... well it's nice. an actual bedroom with sheets that look like they've been cleaned at some point in the past decade. there's still hints of wear, room to make improvements, but the fact that it takes more than a few steps to cross the length of the room definitely stands in its favour. )
[ alina surveys the room bleakly from the doorway. it's a real home. not the temporary cupboard she'd shoved him into until he'd learned his lesson. panic seizes up in her chest, a sense that he's slipping away from her, and in so doing, her control over him is slipping away too.
it is the only thing that's let her sleep at night, since it happened.
the pain in her ribs grows. darkness crowds the corners of her vision. she shakes her head. ]
My opinion on this doesn't really matter either, does it? I'll leave you to it. You acn tell me what you decide.
[ she flees, then. properly hurries out of the egress into the bedroom and back to the front entrance of the apartment, shoulders stiff and breath short. ]
Alina, wait — ( but she's already gone, and the space she's left feels like a wound: raw and bloody.
their relationship in a nutshell, really, because what are they if not two animals clawing at each other?
he follows her. of course he does, and he finds her hovering at the entrance looking fragile and small in a way she hadn't since the first time he saw her.
an uncomfortable silence stretches between them. he tells himself that he'd expected this, expected that it wouldn't be easy, doing the right thing, but seeing her like this drives home the fact that this was never going to be easy. leaving her, even in a largely symbolic way, feels like he's tearing himself in half, leaving the best parts of himself behind.
the moment lingers until he breaks it, stepping forward and into her space and ...oh so very tentatively... pulls her against his chest. )
[ sunlight burns in her palm. her whole body goes stiff and still. she has sought many things from the darkling, but comfort was never one of them. the feeling of his arms around her like this is foreign, jarring enough to completely override her instinctive grasp at defending herself from his touch.
the power drains out of her, leaving only the faint buzzing in her skin that comes from where his fingers brush the bare back of her neck. she slowly moves her hands up to return the embrace, tentatively resting palms on the back of his ribs.
it shouldn't terrify her like this to no longer control him, and it shouldn't break her heart to get the freedom she'd wanted. but it does.
then, all at once, she moves her hand between them to push him back. forces her breathing into position, stills it. lifts her chin. ] Did you see everything you wanted?
[ to reggie. to the life that she wants to hide in, where she can ignore all the broken, missing parts of herself that live in some forgotten past with the darkling.
she makes no promises about acquiring the apartment, though she suspects they both know it's a settled matter. ]
[ she wants to kick and scream. she wants to shove at him and snarl, demanding to know where this kindness was when the two of them still had a chance. why he would instead only draw it from deep inside of him when he was letting her go.
even in the dim natural light that leaks in through the window panes, her eyes glisten. wet. she doesn't owe him anything, but it still stings to realize that she doesn't know if she knows how to be happy, if she's still capable of it.
but at least this way, she might find out. ]
Goodbye, Aleksander.
[ she reaches up to peel his hand away from her cheek, then turns to slip out the door. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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( there's always the chance that he's too much like baghra, of course. or that he allowed his ambition to utterly swallow his joy.
regardless, it's probably not the sort of conversation outside like this, where anyone could witness. after holding her gaze for a drawn out moment, he breaks the contact, turning his attention back to the hall. )
The key's meant to be under a mat.
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this isn't how house-shopping in the up had been. there'd been a man who showed her places, curated them. who'd negotiated times to visit and gotten the key out of a lock box. but this isn't the up.
she lets the darkling in first, then follows after and shuts the door on what might be his new apartment. ]
no subject
or as clean as anything gets in the down.
the kitchen is larger than the one in the current apartment, with room for the pair of them to manouver. the walls are painted in a shade of blue that flirts closer with grey, but still manages to appear cheerful. there's a small room off to the side with beat-up washing machine and a rainbow of cleaning supplies. he doesn't linger on these ㅡ though there's some appeal in not having to take his laundry off-site ㅡ before moving on to the living room.
the living room is ... nice. it's better than nice, actually. it's downright cozy. the small space packed with comfortable furniture and shelves upon shelves of books. ) How much of these, do you think, are actually readable?
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[ it's the down, after all. but she regards the shelves with some mild interest. her nose crinkles, though. ]
Even if they do, I suspect I can already tell you their endings. Every book I've read here has been on a certain, ah, predictable theme.
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( aleksander doesn't seem especially put out about it, at least. the idea of having a library of any sort is only marginally more attractive than the idea of living somewhere other than his current apartment.
and he'll be able to fill the shelves himself with time. )
Though one would think that a city driven by sex would be significantly less formulaic about it. ( this said idly as he departs from the room, heading toward the bedroom. )
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( idly put despite the fact that they're supposed to not be doing that anymore, tumenalia notwithstanding.
he's looking over his shoulder now, brows lifting slightly: part tease, part challenge. )
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It hardly affects me anymore, does it? [ they're not doing that anymore. she shakes her head minutely, chin down like she's seeking confirmation. ] It's none of my business.
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it would be impressive, really, how deftly he's managed to burrow himself into her mind if it weren't also so very irritating. how do you unmesh something so thoroughly entangled? was such a thing even possible?
did he really want it, even if it was?
they press on. the bedroom is ... well it's nice. an actual bedroom with sheets that look like they've been cleaned at some point in the past decade. there's still hints of wear, room to make improvements, but the fact that it takes more than a few steps to cross the length of the room definitely stands in its favour. )
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it is the only thing that's let her sleep at night, since it happened.
the pain in her ribs grows. darkness crowds the corners of her vision. she shakes her head. ]
My opinion on this doesn't really matter either, does it? I'll leave you to it. You acn tell me what you decide.
[ she flees, then. properly hurries out of the egress into the bedroom and back to the front entrance of the apartment, shoulders stiff and breath short. ]
no subject
their relationship in a nutshell, really, because what are they if not two animals clawing at each other?
he follows her. of course he does, and he finds her hovering at the entrance looking fragile and small in a way she hadn't since the first time he saw her.
an uncomfortable silence stretches between them. he tells himself that he'd expected this, expected that it wouldn't be easy, doing the right thing, but seeing her like this drives home the fact that this was never going to be easy. leaving her, even in a largely symbolic way, feels like he's tearing himself in half, leaving the best parts of himself behind.
the moment lingers until he breaks it, stepping forward and into her space and ...oh so very tentatively... pulls her against his chest. )
no subject
the power drains out of her, leaving only the faint buzzing in her skin that comes from where his fingers brush the bare back of her neck. she slowly moves her hands up to return the embrace, tentatively resting palms on the back of his ribs.
it shouldn't terrify her like this to no longer control him, and it shouldn't break her heart to get the freedom she'd wanted. but it does.
then, all at once, she moves her hand between them to push him back. forces her breathing into position, stills it. lifts her chin. ] Did you see everything you wanted?
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( really, he doesn't need much more than this. )
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[ to reggie. to the life that she wants to hide in, where she can ignore all the broken, missing parts of herself that live in some forgotten past with the darkling.
she makes no promises about acquiring the apartment, though she suspects they both know it's a settled matter. ]
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( his fingers bracelet her wrist, not allowing her to slip away just yet. his other hand lifts to cup her jaw. )
Not before I say goodbye.
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[ her voice is small, but heavy with fatigue. ]
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( simply put. and, look, he's never claimed to be a good man. has never really wanted to be good.
but...
he presses a kiss to her forehead. butterfly-soft. )
Be happy, Alina. You do deserve that.
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even in the dim natural light that leaks in through the window panes, her eyes glisten. wet. she doesn't owe him anything, but it still stings to realize that she doesn't know if she knows how to be happy, if she's still capable of it.
but at least this way, she might find out. ]
Goodbye, Aleksander.
[ she reaches up to peel his hand away from her cheek, then turns to slip out the door. ]