( from any other mouth, it would sound like (well, read like, she supposes) empty lip service. what you're politely meant to say, in response to someone making themselves an imposition. from erik's mouth — she's struck, suddenly, by how silly she is to be relieved. he's right, of course. he's not one to sugarcoat words to make them more digestible, easier to swallow, for the sake of sparing sore feelings.
she doesn't question it a second time. in fact, it hushes the doubt that's been incessantly buzzing around her skull, settles her thoughts into a pleasantly quiet thrum. )
fair enough. you don't seem like the sort of man who tolerates much. find me after dinner. ( hm. ) or before? we can go together.
[ Erik, as he's already been told, speaks plainly: he wouldn't only mince words and play with them if he intended to manipulate, and Alina is in the protected position of being a mutant. Safe, in other words, from his manipulations for now. ]
( he's not a man that can be made to do anything, a rival for wayward stallions that refuse to be broken in. still, she can't starve the impulse anymore than she suspects erik can repress the urge to chomp at the bit — two different breeds of animals, unable to break free of their instincts.
embarrassed, alina scrubs a hand over her flustered complexion, sucking in a dragging breath at the correction. it's not just the imposition of it — it's the symbolic ownership of it, an echo of the gold and black aleksander had draped her in, only to realize how deeply he meant to eclipse her in the wingspan of his shadow. a tingling flush crawls along the winding, curving path of her collarbone. )
It's just that ... Well. People would associate it with me, back in Ravka. It seems rather presumptuous to expect you to wear any of my colors.
It would be a pocket square, Alina, not a blue wedding suit.
[ Erik can understand, in a way. He had worn a colour, once, to highlight who he was, to mark him as other. It's a different situation - to wear colour as a source of pride versus a means of demonisation and discrimination - but he empathises.
Just a little. ]
If you'd rather I didn't, I'll wear something else. It doesn't bother me.
I'm so fortunate the tablecloth is so long. All the better for me to kick you under the table tonight.
( stop embarrassing her before she collapses and dies from it, thanks!! )
I don't mind, now that you know. I wanted it to be your choice to make.
( it's unspoken, of course, that she assumed he would mind, but — she expects he would mortify her about that snap-judgement, too. best not to let her doubt spurt out of her like an unsightly, unseemly wound. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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( the joke apparent: like every other indulgence here, they have time in abundance. )
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( playful, for all that the reasoning for it isn't nearly light — night owl by the design of her night terrors, not by choice. )
are you sure i won't be interrupting your nights?
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she doesn't question it a second time. in fact, it hushes the doubt that's been incessantly buzzing around her skull, settles her thoughts into a pleasantly quiet thrum. )
fair enough. you don't seem like the sort of man who tolerates much.
find me after dinner. ( hm. ) or before? we can go together.
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I'm not.
I can tolerate a dinner in your company.
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Wear something nice. I have high hopes of being impressed tonight.
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( a poetic pull to her own familiar colors, naturally, drawn to it as inevitably as any sun rising on a blue horizon. still: )
You don't have to match with me.
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( he's not a man that can be made to do anything, a rival for wayward stallions that refuse to be broken in. still, she can't starve the impulse anymore than she suspects erik can repress the urge to chomp at the bit — two different breeds of animals, unable to break free of their instincts.
embarrassed, alina scrubs a hand over her flustered complexion, sucking in a dragging breath at the correction. it's not just the imposition of it — it's the symbolic ownership of it, an echo of the gold and black aleksander had draped her in, only to realize how deeply he meant to eclipse her in the wingspan of his shadow. a tingling flush crawls along the winding, curving path of her collarbone. )
It's just that ... Well.
People would associate it with me, back in Ravka. It seems rather presumptuous to expect you to wear any of my colors.
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[ Erik can understand, in a way. He had worn a colour, once, to highlight who he was, to mark him as other. It's a different situation - to wear colour as a source of pride versus a means of demonisation and discrimination - but he empathises.
Just a little. ]
If you'd rather I didn't, I'll wear something else. It doesn't bother me.
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( stop embarrassing her before she collapses and dies from it, thanks!! )
I don't mind, now that you know. I wanted it to be your choice to make.
( it's unspoken, of course, that she assumed he would mind, but — she expects he would mortify her about that snap-judgement, too. best not to let her doubt spurt out of her like an unsightly, unseemly wound. )
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[ Haha. Short joke.
Anyway, for a man who has often taken whatever he wanted - because he was denied for so long - Erik can do no more than just roll his eyes. ]
Then I've chosen. Blue.
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( the audacity??? )
Blue, then. Without the wedding suit.
I know it must be difficult for you to resist falling at my feet with a marriage proposal, but do try to resist.
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[ Give him 20 years. ]
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Will you be escorting me down?
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That's an improvement from tolerance.
I'll see you then.