( if a tree falls in the woods, does anyone hear it? if alina rolls her eyes until they nearly pop from the sockets, can alia sense it in the universe? for what it's worth: alina still obeys, sticky-fingers in chocolate residue, smearing sweet treats into her phone screen. sucks crumbs from her fingers, sugary delight tingling on the roof of her mouth. )
You're bossy.
( it's short-lived. alina can taste citrus turn to ash on her tongue, for just a flickering moment, before she forces herself to swallow it down. special, alia says, and it only needles at the questions she's stored away beneath floorboards of whatever she and paul are building to collect dust. out of sight, out of mind. because it feels like a warning, now, though she's uncertain if alia is beckoning her to look closer, or — if it's an entreaty: treat him delicately. he has already been mishandled. )
He is special. He's made himself special to me. I don't need to know the rest for that to be true.
( the rest doesn't matter, she could say. it isn't strictly honest. the darkling has taught her to fear what skeletons hide in a closet, what truths are swept beneath a rug. it's just — she can't imagine paul's is an ugly, grotesque match for the secrets aleksander keeps.
she types. thinks better of it. reconsiders, again. finally: ) You speak about Paul like you aren't important.
( or — not as equally important.. alina frowns. ) But I'd like to know you, too. If you'll let me.
no subject
You're bossy.
( it's short-lived. alina can taste citrus turn to ash on her tongue, for just a flickering moment, before she forces herself to swallow it down. special, alia says, and it only needles at the questions she's stored away beneath floorboards of whatever she and paul are building to collect dust. out of sight, out of mind. because it feels like a warning, now, though she's uncertain if alia is beckoning her to look closer, or — if it's an entreaty: treat him delicately. he has already been mishandled. )
He is special. He's made himself special to me.
I don't need to know the rest for that to be true.
( the rest doesn't matter, she could say. it isn't strictly honest. the darkling has taught her to fear what skeletons hide in a closet, what truths are swept beneath a rug. it's just — she can't imagine paul's is an ugly, grotesque match for the secrets aleksander keeps.
she types. thinks better of it. reconsiders, again. finally: ) You speak about Paul like you aren't important.
( or — not as equally important.. alina frowns. ) But I'd like to know you, too. If you'll let me.