reznikolai | I N B O X

[A dozen questions bleed like fresh lacerations from the dark of his mind. When did you go to him? Was it only once? Twice? More? What does he give you that I couldn't? How does he touch you? How can you stand to touch him?

Not all of them are fair. Nikolai had found new shapes of comfort and happiness and forgiveness in the arms of other partners even when he was still with Alina; it didn't mean that she lacked, only that they had something to give too. And he had found the Darkling's touch tolerable enough, the same hands that fractured him with these scars. But here in the dead of night, his thoughts are untamed beasts.]

Tell me. What wouldn't I love? What's so horrible that it would make me turn away from you after everything?

There are parts of me I thought you couldn't ever love. But I showed them to you anyway. I let you see all of me, like you asked.

You were angry at me because I kept the truth from you. Because I chose for you. Haven't you done the same to me?

What do you want me to say Nikolai?
I hate him. That's the truth. I loathe him. I haven't forgotten what he's done. To me. To you. To Genya. To all of Ravka.

But part of me understands him too.
And I hate that too.
I hate that I don't know what I would be if I wasn't a solution to a problem.
That even though I'm a so called saint people still mob me and want to wear my bones.
That if I couldn't be a saint, I don't know how long would I be tolerated.
That I want more power than any Grisha should have.
That it was a relief to think I died in the fold because it meant I didn't have to contend with being the savior any longer.
That a happy ending with my power ripped from me sounds more like a punishment than a reward.
That I'm never sure if you wanted me or what I could do for you.
That I'm never sure if you love me or just the idea that you could have me.
Those are the ugly parts of me.

Do you love that Alina?
Or are you in love with a story you told yourself about her.

I think I could.

Just about every doubt you have about being a Saint, I've had about being king.

Who am I without a problem to solve? What good am I if I can't fix what's broken in Ravka? How could our people continue to respect me, to love me, if they knew the monster I hide inside myself? If they knew that I'm starting to think I don't want to give up my claws and wings anymore?

I hate how easily I fell in love with the life I'm allowed to have here. How easily I fell in love with you.

I hate that everything I do ultimately serves me most of all. I hate that you doubt my love, but I hate even more that I've given you every reason to doubt.

Truthfully, I don't know. Did I want to make you happy because you deserve it after all you've endured, or because I can't stand being alone? Did I fall in love with you because you're YOU, or because you represent everything I can't have and desperately want?

I wish I could say the right thing. But I don't even know what that would be right now.

You think you could.

But you don't know.

I don't know either.

Goodnight Nikolai.

Saints dammit, Alina.

Do you want honesty, or do you want horseshit? You ask me to be honest, and then as soon as I deny you the answer you hope for, you cut me loose. You close up.

Where would Ravka be if I gave up on it every time I didn't get the results I wanted?

Love is messy, Alina. I'm not perfect, you're not perfect. Our feelings aren't perfect. It's a big damned mess. But you won't even give us a chance to sort through it.

[And to be sure to provoke an answer from her, he adds:]

By the way, I fucked him too. At least I waited until our relationship was in the grave.

How sacrificial and noble of you.
Am I supposed to like the answer just because it's honest?
What is there even to save.
Our futures are written.
I'm not a saint. You're not even a king.
Or has he not told you that yet either.

He told me, but I find it funny that you never breathed a word about it. Any other secrets I should know?

Why did you even message me? What, did you want me to cry to you about how lonely I am? To reassure you that I'm thinking about you when I'm fucking someone else? And then would you tell me that there's nothing worth salvaging between us?

You're as selfish as I am.

Because you have so much room to talk about keeping secrets.

I messaged you because I missed you. Because I'm lonely. Because I'm weak. Because you're right, I'm selfish. Because I'm stupid and stay up thinking about what it would have been like to be your wife, to have your stupid little pretty babies, and live a stupid little pretty life.

This was a bad idea from the start.

[It's the specter of the children they'd never have together that hollows out his anger again. All it is is a battered shield around the unabating ache in his chest.]

You know I've always been overfond of bad ideas.

I can't give you that life, as much as everything in me wants to. I can't go back to a year ago and do it all differently. Apparently, I can't even take away your loneliness. Couldn't make you feel loved enough. So what do you want from me?

I don't know.

It's probably no comfort, but being with him only made me feel more lonely in the end.

I'm not sure that's something anyone can solve for me.

No, there are things even I can't fix.

[Then, even though there are a hundred things he could tell her, a thousand, he doesn't know what to say. All he knows is that this isn't finished. Maybe it will never be finished. Always unraveling, always cracking in a dozen directions.]

When I was with him, it was like I was taking back control of myself. It was like confronting the monster all over agin. By owning all the parts of myself that I hate, I could rob him of the power to make me feel small. Maybe that's strange, but you're the last person who could judge me right now.

I'm telling you this because I've dealt with my own darkness that nobody could extinguish for me.

[ She knows he doesn't mean it like this, but it feels like confirmation that she's broken. Like why should she even bother trying to put the pieces back together? ]

I'm not judging you.
I understand it.

[ Curious.... about how it happened for sure. ]

For me it felt like.... I got to be cruel. I got to be greedy. I got to be the opposite of a saint.
I felt like a monster but I didn't feel bad.
I didn't think you could love that Alina though.
I don't so I don't think anyone should have to.

I don't love the monster. I don't think anyone should have to bear the burden of what I become. Sure, I've learned to control it, but I doubt I'll ever be rid of it.

You chose to anyway. To bear it, to love me.

Why didn't you let me do the same for you?

Because I'm not sure I deserve it.
Go be happy, Nikolai.
I don't have to be a part of it.

[She's right. Neither of them are destined to be a part of the other's happiness. If he's destined for happiness at all. But in this moment, folded up in the lonely dark and holding too many jagged clashing emotions, all he can think to write is:]

Come see me.

[And he fires it off before he can think better of it. Then a hasty amendment:]

Tomorrow.

[After all, the hour is waning to nearly three o'clock by now.]

[ Who is the bigger fool? Him for offering or her for accepting. This only will end one way. The path is drawn. ]

ok.

[They have that in common too. Incurable foolishness.]

Good night, Alina.

I N B O X

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