( it's still an odd sight to behold — flame born from nothing but power, putting an inferni's flint to shame. alina's eyes fall to raptly watch it flicker to life, sparking the small wick, with a subtle smile and all the enjoyment of an audience watching a magic trick, without understanding the secrets behind it. )

Mm. It just so happens to be a perfect way to show off, too.

( if there's anything she can clock, it's a man with an impressive set of skills, and an even more impressive need to showcase it. teasingly, alina strikes her hands together in a soft, encouraging clap — then leaves forward without a further need for invitation, ignoring the chocolate that blends into the ends of her already paint-streaked hair.

none of her wishes have ever come true, whether they've been spent on pretty candles or shining stars or soaring comets — but even cosmic intervention can't bring alina starkov impossible miracles, it seems. it's more for nick's sake, and the ever-living childish, naive hope that they may come to fruition this time, that alina closes her lips and blows, letting the flame putter out.

her eyes flick up to his as she hovers, smearing her thumb through frosting to pop it into her mouth. )

I don't have to tell you what I wished for, do I?