( it's as tempting as any breadcrumb trail to follow, promised answers found at the end of a path. she ignores it, despite the impulse to latch onto alia's hints, ask her what she means by paul's burdens. it isn't fair to paul to uncloak what he's left hidden, even if it makes her skin itch with old fear; more than that, it isn't fair to alia to use her to lure those well-kept secrets from their hiding place, made a pawn by alina's wariness.
maybe it's a little cowardly, in the end, no better than sticking her head into the sand, in case of the truth of what he is — what alina is — violently shifts the landscape of what they're becoming. she hides in it, anyway, tucked away in her little claimed corner of normalcy. )
It doesn't seem fair to take all the credit for it. He's let me exist as just Alina, so long as he's just Paul.
I know a little of what it's like to live under the weight of someone else's expectations. It costs a person something when the world around you asks you to be everything to them. Well, almost everything. The one thing they never ask you to be is yourself.
I won't ask you to be anyone else. You could be just Alia, if you want to be.
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maybe it's a little cowardly, in the end, no better than sticking her head into the sand, in case of the truth of what he is — what alina is — violently shifts the landscape of what they're becoming. she hides in it, anyway, tucked away in her little claimed corner of normalcy. )
It doesn't seem fair to take all the credit for it. He's let me exist as just Alina, so long as he's just Paul.
I know a little of what it's like to live under the weight of someone else's expectations.
It costs a person something when the world around you asks you to be everything to them.
Well, almost everything. The one thing they never ask you to be is yourself.
I won't ask you to be anyone else. You could be just Alia, if you want to be.