[ he's not going to listen. the blade remains steady in kaz's hand, poised to draw blood, and nikolai abruptly catches a glimpse of the man kaz hasn't allowed him to see, the side he's never had a reason to show him. hardened edges, a calculating coldness, something dead in his blue-eyed stare. even the monster stills, the first breath nikolai has drawn all night that hasn't felt burdened with the weight of holding it back. he yearns to pull back the shroud, to uncover the rest, to see the monster that kaz created just to survive, because he's always wanted to know all of it. all of kaz brekker. the soft parts that hurt if he presses down too hard, and the ugly parts that make him bare his teeth if he drags them into the light. all of it lovely and fascinating to him, all of it worthy of his attention and deserving so much more than just his affection. it's a heavy weight to know he's failed to make kaz realize this.

the knife disappears, and then suddenly kaz is coming closer. nikolai fights the urge to skitter back, but kaz's grip on his arm holds firm, and he's not itching for dimitri to plummet his pulse again. his eyes dart away when kaz handles his injuries. he's too close. from here he can see the shadows pressed beneath his eyes, exhaustion sunken into his skin. how many times has nikolai reached up and tucked back the soft strands of his dark hair? he's close enough now that he could again. he could trace the sharp cut of his cheekbones, soothe the tension in his brow, warm his no doubt cold skin from the damp of the cellar or the stress of his own demons. his chains clink, and he reaches out quickly with his free hand to draw them tight, lest they brush against kaz's injured leg.

his gaze flickers up. after all the times he's shifted between man and monster, all traces of genya's tailoring has faded, his face wholly his own again, regal and elegant despite smudges of blood and dirt, the soft spray of familiar freckles across his slightly crooked nose. kaz extends what feels like an olive branch, the unexpected decency grating against his tattered pride. he lowers his head until his forehead touches kaz's knee, gritting his teeth. ]

I can't remember it. When it feeds. [ only the bloodlust of before, all consuming, and then the mess that comes after. ] I can remember sensations. The taste of blood. Flesh in my teeth. And then when I wake, the hunger is gone and the beast is sated and I'm — [ his hand curls into kaz's, a motion that comes without thinking. moments pass before he even realizes he's holding his hand. he lifts his head, trying to gather the scraps of his composure. ] Fine. Because I need to know what it's doing. Because if anyone has to see me then I want it to be you.

[ slowly, he uncurls his hand, pulling it from his grasp. means to move away, but can't, his gaze hovering on the bandages peeking through his torn trousers. now that kaz has come close he knows there are only moments before they part again, a space that will keep widening until it feels too big to cross. his fingers brush gently over the side of his thigh, feather light, to feel his bandages. the demon stirs at the touch. ]

I haven't forgotten who you are. [ a tragedy in itself. he never will. he wants to press his hand closer, higher, to places comforting and familiar, but he blinks and blood pools over the chair, dripping onto the floor, kaz split open like fruit rotting in the sun. blinks again and nothing has changed at all, kaz's steady gaze staring back at him. he withdraws his hand, his voice low. ] I know you better than all of them. I know that you want to close yourself off because of what you're feeling right now, that maybe you want to go hurt someone — or yourself, or me — but whatever you do, you cannot move backwards. Not after everything. [ that would hurt more than losing him. ] There's only ever forward.

[ he turns away, drawing in a steadying breath. ] Your plan, then. Before I change my mind.