[ ask for what you want. panic seizes him. ask. how? there are too many wants tangled in his throat, always have been, choked down in favor of what he needed to be. this isn't like asking for fine brandy or asking for unerring loyalty or asking for forgiveness as a child for dropping a cannonball off the palace roof and into his mother's rose garden. (he'd never asked for the last one.) what does he really want? death. life. an end to this loneliness, a way out of this grief. he wants to pull the hurt from kaz's words, to turn his face into his dark hair and find a hiding place there. he wants to soothe a kiss to that familiar space at his throat, right beneath his ear where he used to hide a bruise away, something just for the two of them. he wants to hold his hand.
this is all wrong, and he's the one making it so. is it finally broken now? his heart rabbits in his chest, unease in every beat, shame tightening his throat. it has to be this way. kaz will understand, with time. but doubt sours that thought behind the truth of what he's known for some time now — kaz brekker's heart is perhaps the most fragile thing he's ever held in his hands. nikolai can take heartbreak, soldier on, coexist with his misery and wear a smile while he does. he'll find a way to get what he wants. but the same question he's asked himself since the start still plagues him now. will kaz ever allow anyone to touch him like this again? will he ever try to overcome this with anyone else or will he live shuttered away and untouched until the end of his days? will that be his fault, too?
his fingers loosen, slackening the pull of his tie. he feels weak, and weakness gives the chance for the demon to take hold. he can feel it now, pressing into the corners of his mind, always ready, always there. he can't afford to be anything but resolute, and yet he's done nothing this entire time but waver — and he's wavering now, feeling that barely perceptible tremor in the muscles of kaz's body, the chill on his skin, the hitch in his breath. everything has changed and yet nothing at all. ask for what you want. ]
Don't. [ his hand ghosts along kaz's spine, his fingers trembling, eyes pressing shut as his voice drops. ] Don't leave me alone with my shadow. You told me — it's grown with every wrong, and I can't see the light anymore.
[ the suli proverb, shared the very first time he ever laid hands on brekker, stitching his insides back together. he hasn't forgotten a word of it. doesn't believe a word of it. and still it holds true. fix this. he'll go off to die and kaz might never make sense of this, might spend his entire life thinking that he can't best this after all, that there will never be another place for his want. the thought is unbearable. why did zoya bring him here? why did he come? he twists, rising, depositing kaz into the plush armchair in a rumpled heap, and for a moment he hovers over him, knee pressed between his legs, hands locked on the armrests as he cages him in, his mouth close enough to kiss. kaz looks like he's going to be sick, like the tide is licking at his feet and he can't move away fast enough.
the demon closes in and nikolai skitters back, eyes glassy and hollow, pitch black. fleeting darkness flickers down his skin. he stumbles to his desk amidst the roars in his head, snatching a sheaf of paper as he begins a furious sketch, a woman with pale hair and down-turned eyes, then another, this one a man with a scraggly beard and wild brows. a child clutching a wooden toy in the likeness of a firebird. someone's grandmother wearing a faded headscarf. he crosses the room and pushes the drawings frantically at kaz, sinking to his knees before the armchair as he hastily scrawls another, his eyes burning fever green again, his breath shuddering with memories abruptly dislodged. ]
I have to find these people. No — their families. I have to. [ the pages slip to the floor as he presses his forehead to kaz's bad leg, his hand curling around his ankle. guilt rises like bile in his throat. he has no right. he should be alone. tell him to go. something chokes his words, the truth of what he wants spilling out before he can snatch it back. ] Stay with me. I — please, just stay with me.
no subject
this is all wrong, and he's the one making it so. is it finally broken now? his heart rabbits in his chest, unease in every beat, shame tightening his throat. it has to be this way. kaz will understand, with time. but doubt sours that thought behind the truth of what he's known for some time now — kaz brekker's heart is perhaps the most fragile thing he's ever held in his hands. nikolai can take heartbreak, soldier on, coexist with his misery and wear a smile while he does. he'll find a way to get what he wants. but the same question he's asked himself since the start still plagues him now. will kaz ever allow anyone to touch him like this again? will he ever try to overcome this with anyone else or will he live shuttered away and untouched until the end of his days? will that be his fault, too?
his fingers loosen, slackening the pull of his tie. he feels weak, and weakness gives the chance for the demon to take hold. he can feel it now, pressing into the corners of his mind, always ready, always there. he can't afford to be anything but resolute, and yet he's done nothing this entire time but waver — and he's wavering now, feeling that barely perceptible tremor in the muscles of kaz's body, the chill on his skin, the hitch in his breath. everything has changed and yet nothing at all. ask for what you want. ]
Don't. [ his hand ghosts along kaz's spine, his fingers trembling, eyes pressing shut as his voice drops. ] Don't leave me alone with my shadow. You told me — it's grown with every wrong, and I can't see the light anymore.
[ the suli proverb, shared the very first time he ever laid hands on brekker, stitching his insides back together. he hasn't forgotten a word of it. doesn't believe a word of it. and still it holds true. fix this. he'll go off to die and kaz might never make sense of this, might spend his entire life thinking that he can't best this after all, that there will never be another place for his want. the thought is unbearable. why did zoya bring him here? why did he come? he twists, rising, depositing kaz into the plush armchair in a rumpled heap, and for a moment he hovers over him, knee pressed between his legs, hands locked on the armrests as he cages him in, his mouth close enough to kiss. kaz looks like he's going to be sick, like the tide is licking at his feet and he can't move away fast enough.
the demon closes in and nikolai skitters back, eyes glassy and hollow, pitch black. fleeting darkness flickers down his skin. he stumbles to his desk amidst the roars in his head, snatching a sheaf of paper as he begins a furious sketch, a woman with pale hair and down-turned eyes, then another, this one a man with a scraggly beard and wild brows. a child clutching a wooden toy in the likeness of a firebird. someone's grandmother wearing a faded headscarf. he crosses the room and pushes the drawings frantically at kaz, sinking to his knees before the armchair as he hastily scrawls another, his eyes burning fever green again, his breath shuddering with memories abruptly dislodged. ]
I have to find these people. No — their families. I have to. [ the pages slip to the floor as he presses his forehead to kaz's bad leg, his hand curling around his ankle. guilt rises like bile in his throat. he has no right. he should be alone. tell him to go. something chokes his words, the truth of what he wants spilling out before he can snatch it back. ] Stay with me. I — please, just stay with me.