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[ She turns the bottle in her hands, listening to the pills rattle within it as she nods. His joke offers a bit of levity, and she shakes her head. Part of her disapproves, but another part can't help but admire the way he juggles adversity with such easy when it seems like she has always been so prone to just shutting down. ]

I'd be a shame for you to choke or overdose. I'd have to find a new housemate.

[ See. Alina can make morbid jokes too. ]

[The grin that creeps onto his lips now, although a touch sardonic, is genuine. He needs her to keep playing along. He needs her to not run away, to face this hand in hand with him. No matter the act he puts on, this is not easy for him. It feels like drowning in an invisible lake: nobody else can see his mouth filling up with water, his eyes bulging wide with terror.]

Alina, I'm wounded by your implication that I would be so easy to replace.

[Out of habit, he purposes to gesture with his hand — a little dramatic flair — but of course it's tethered to the bedpost. So instead, his statement is punctuated with the dull clang of chains against the iron frame. It lacks the same effect.]

[ She opens her mouth for a quick retort, something about how she might enjoy the quiet or maybe this was an elaborate scheme to make him shut up for a few hours each night, but the angry scrape of metal against metal is a damper on her thin attempt at keeping up the mood. The back and forth only delays the inevitable.

And she thinks she would be terribly lonely if he died on her now. ]

Are you ready?

[He nods resolutely.]

As ready as I'll ever be.

[As Nikolai opens his mouth, he can't help but feel that Genya's solution was much more elegant. Or at least much less humiliating. He could pinch a drop of the medicine onto his tongue himself, but pills require water and another hand he doesn't have.

Even so, he holds his eyes to Alina as she draws closer. For just an instant, he can imagine a very different life — a road not taken, branching off from some point far behind him. He can imagine her approaching his bed simply to join him in it. He would take her in his arms and she would meld against him. They'd kiss soft and slow.

His gaze flickers to the ceiling. Nikolai takes a deep breath, expelling the errant fantasy from his mind. He blames it on the unfairly thin fabric of her shift.]

[ He won't even look at her. She tries not to take it too personally. She thinks of David closing the collar around her neck. He bears no fault to how she's been chained, and Alina harbors no ill will towards him, but that doesn't make the act less painful.

She will be quick and spare them both from prolonged awkwardness. One by one, she places the pills in his mouth. Brushing her fingertips against his lips is unavoidable, and she tries to ignore just how intimate and private it feels.

While leaning over, her shift had unfortunately, well, shifted leaving a bit of a gape at her breast, her ruby shining on her sternum. As she straightens, she feels it settle lower on her chest than she expected, and she quickly (and awkwardly) adjusts by pulling on the straps before she crosses her arms in front of her higher than really seems natural. ]

Do you... Would you like me to stay until you fall asleep?

[One by one she places the pills on his tongue, and one by one he swallows them with a gulp of water. The accidental brush of her touch against his lips sparks another flash of fantasy. It would be all too easy to draw her fingertips into his mouth, press kisses into her skin. The glimpse he gets of the tops of her breasts certainly doesn't help him purge these thoughts.

Saints. Before he can start tumbling Alina in his mind, Nikolai forces himself to focus on the last pill sliding down his throat. He thinks of falling into a sleep so deep it's like a chasm swallowing him up. He thinks of the monster lurking in his heart curling up into something small and helpless.

He passes the half-empty glass back to Alina. Then he slides down the pillow and positions his hand at his bedpost. Signaling for her to finish the job. Surrendering his last shred of freedom.

Her question surprises him. He doesn't think it's pity — but it's something that softens this excruciating ritual. Something that alleviates the darkness, like the light Zoya would leave burning for him even as he sank into sleep. Nikolai looks at her with an expression naked of his usual defenses. His voice is uncharacteristically quiet.]

If you're sure you have nothing better to do...yes, I would like that. It shouldn't take long.

[He isn't sure if it's the effect of the pills or the effect of the long day accumulating in exhaustion, but already he feels his head going blurry, his eyes growing heavy.]

Edited 2021-02-25 14:35 (UTC)

[ She nods, agreeing quietly. It sounds more like an apology than anything. ]

Of course.

[ She's gentle as she guides his arm, but ultimately the tightness of the restraints is necessary to keep the both of them safe.

There's little for him here that her company feels like the only thing she can offer that might make up for her closing the leather and metal bands around his remaining hand. And how could she deny him after he wore such stark honesty in his request? Only Nikolai could be expected to still wear a mask over his vulnerability when literally in chains, but she blames the lapse in the swift effect of the sleeping pills.

She grabs the edge of the blanket and fixes it to lay gently over him. With little other furniture, her only option is to perch at the end of the bed and wait for sleep to take him.

Quietly, as not to disturb him, she offers: ]

Goodnight, Nikolai. I'm grateful you're here.

[Like always, Nikolai must steel himself against the urge to resist. Against the panic that rises in him as the cuff clicks shut around his wrist. Her touch against his skin, however brief, acts as a counterbalance to the cold metal. It provides something else for him to focus on.

Then the job is done. But she stays — not because he is her king, he hopes, but because he is her friend. Something about the way she rearranges the blanket, the way her weight quietly sinks the mattress to mark her presence, is overwhelmingly tender. It's the sort of thing that has been absent from his life for too long. The sort of thing he has craved.]

It was good to see you again, Alina. I missed you.

[That quiet voice again, fuzzier around the edges as he fades. His eyelids are already drooping.

As promised, she won't have to wait long before he slides into sleep. Within ten minutes, he's snoring softly. His face is placid. For now, at least, he is not a king, or a demon, or any of the countless roles he inhabits.]

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