(no subject)

[commandership]

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[underage]

Then the detoured stops here don’t bother you at all?
I can’t stand all this knowing.

( in fact — he thinks the only one who could understand that molecular revolt is, in fact, zoya. being stationary doesn’t suit either of them, the way it (apparently) suits both nikolai lantsov, and alina starkov. peace is such a novelty, so far off from his future, it feels entirely artificial here, like looking at the world as a snow globe, or seeing it through the translucent wings of an insect. fragmented and odd and displaced, too unfamiliar to get used to. )

[commandership]

[ yes, but zoya has grown used to sprinkling those wayward emotions into a gilded box on her vanity. a trinket to remove at the end of each day, inconsequentially tossed into the sea of jewels stored away on her vanity. something worn and immediately shed, locked away from view until her fingers manage to dig it up again.

the darkling's probing fingertips stain those thoughts, now. draw her attention to what she's stowed away. still, she has the self-respect not to confess the first ounce of bitterness that skims her mind — that of course it bothers her to be sealed in a dollhouse, having her limbs pulled in some vain attempt to pretend she fits in this space. ]

I allow myself to be bothered only by important matters.
What's the real issue? You can't stand to be unimportant, Aleksander?

[ a pointed choice of address — retaliation for his choice to weave this illusion of camaraderie between them, as though they share the same threads of purpose. as though they're created from the same fabric. ( perhaps that's truer than she'd like it to be; she, too, can't stand to see her work no longer matter. can't reconcile her existence, now that she is no longer serves as an important fixture to ravka. ) ]