What you want. [ a surprised echo, as surprising as the jolt he feels when kaz's fingers encircle his wrist. desire and disquiet wage a frantic battle within him, teetering on the edge of a nightmare. one misstep and he'll be thrown into the snapping teeth of the bloody dark. he nearly pulls away, the slightest bit of pressure, but not enough to make kaz let go. what he wants. what he wants is absurd. what he wants — what he's doing — is backing him into a corner and forcing his hand, making him choose between this and — what? nothing. to let this go completely. to finally let this thread unravel the way it should have long ago.

it would be the wise move, under present circumstances. he doesn't know what his beast wants with kaz — perhaps not to kill him, but it's certainly not above maiming him — and it's only his selfishness that keeps him tethered to him now, unable to saw away this bond even if he's seen in his dreams the sort of bloody end it could mean. maybe he's not much of anything after all, when he clearly can't weather the hard decisions that need to be made. ]

You don't know what you're asking. [ but he does; kaz has seen him at his worst, in his most inhumane state, and in the end what he remembers most is a coat draped over his shoulders and strong arms holding his trembling frame together. no, a stroke of good fortune had been all that kept kaz's body from his feet that night. ] You speak of cost and payment and risk as if these things don't mean your life. For what gain? What do you expect from me?

[ the depth of his wants threatens to topple him, caught between drawing kaz closer and pulling away, danger in both directions. the pressure in his chest — from a heart too full or miserably hollow, he doesn't know — is too much to bear. if he keeps dancing on the edges of the truth, kaz will shut the door, no doubt weary of the stalling confusion between them, but nikolai resents the feeling of his secrets laid bare in such a way, pulled out of him without finesse after he's spent so long shielding them from the light. ]

I have nothing left to offer you. [ that much is true. this confession is worth little, this feeling without a proper place to exist. he laughs, a brittle sound that doesn’t reach his eyes, knocking their hips together as he pins kaz against the rock, gripping both hands in his to keep him from being foolish enough to touch his bare skin. ] Because if I tell you that I love you — that I have since you and I were on my ship together — [ saints, he’s lost track of the time, months now — ] What will you do with that? What can you possibly do with me? You will still be you, and I will still be this. [ he releases a breath, his face falling, close enough to see kaz’s dark lashes spiked with water, every shade of blue in his wide eyes. ] Is that the confession you wanted? Does that make any of this better? Saints, you’re a damned fool, Brekker. This isn’t a barter.