[ She's held tight, suspended in seconds that stretch into long eternities as long as he stays silent, making her wish she could take it back or hold it in even if it hurts her. Holding onto it was like trying to clutch a piece of cut glass, futile and useless, only leaving her bloodied and scarred.
And then he shares in her confession, her her whole body shudders, a tearless moan of a sob surfacing. She leans into him again, encouraging him to drink from her with long, slow strokes down his neck and back and up again. ]
We're both idiots.
[ But she does not mean it in a derisive way. It's true. Nikolai may have hidden some truths from her but she had been willfully blind to other parts. ]
I'm sorry, [ she whispers. And then again. ] I'm sorry it won't be ours.
[ Because it cannot be here, and even when... if they return home, she could accept Nikolai's proposal. She could be his wife. But it would not really be the Nikolai in her arms that drinks from her breast. The one that she fell in love with, that she still loves against all her better judgement (the thin amount of it she manages to have normally). She wonders if she will ever feel a love so messy and so whole ever again. It almost would be easier to die on the fold. ]
no subject
And then he shares in her confession, her her whole body shudders, a tearless moan of a sob surfacing. She leans into him again, encouraging him to drink from her with long, slow strokes down his neck and back and up again. ]
We're both idiots.
[ But she does not mean it in a derisive way. It's true. Nikolai may have hidden some truths from her but she had been willfully blind to other parts. ]
I'm sorry, [ she whispers. And then again. ] I'm sorry it won't be ours.
[ Because it cannot be here, and even when... if they return home, she could accept Nikolai's proposal. She could be his wife. But it would not really be the Nikolai in her arms that drinks from her breast. The one that she fell in love with, that she still loves against all her better judgement (the thin amount of it she manages to have normally). She wonders if she will ever feel a love so messy and so whole ever again. It almost would be easier to die on the fold. ]