[Even now, Nikolai wants to clutch at every minute he can get with her. He has missed studying Alina's face the way he studies the night sky, and teasing out her laugh, and a thousand other little things. He misses feeling the pulse of her whole being as though they're tied together by an invisible string. Something is still there, but it's frayed beyond providing any surety when he reaches for it.
He knows those moments are long gone, and trying to cobble them together from the broken pieces is a fool's errand. It will only invite the aching in his chest to spread its jaws wider.
All he can do is act like it doesn't hurt. He forces an amused scoff.]
We both know you're the favorite. You could give him a pile of newspapers to sleep on and he'd still adore you.
[Who kept Ponchik company while Nikolai was at work for all those hours? Proving his point, the dog hasn't removed his attention from Alina since she arrived. He paces all around her, tail wagging and tongue lolling as he points his big puppy eyes at her.]
But I'll bring a bed when I come by.
[Think of it as a business transaction. Nothing more. Nevertheless, he's grateful for Ponchik, because without the need to trade the dog back and forth, he wouldn't know when he'd see Alina again.]
[ That is... probably true. Even if the dog was Nikolai's idea, Ponchik had made himself a comfortable spot in Alina's heart. A companion throughout the day, napping in the sun filtering through the windows, slobbering on her as she tossed his ball in the yard for what could be hours, rolling around and exploring the sights and smells of whatever part of the city Alina wanted to sketch from that day.
Ponchik certainly would take whatever scraps of attention he could get, and was it really that long ago Alina was any different? But it's cruel to even consider, even as a joke. Their dog deserves better. Now if only she could think the same of herself. ]
Yeah. Just let me know when that will be, I guess. [ A brief pause. It's tough enough seeing him now. Her eyes darting down to the dog instead, her hand wrapping tightly around the leash. Broken pieces of something she can't put back together again. ] Someone is usually home, and I'll let everyone know you aren't committing any pet thievery.
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He knows those moments are long gone, and trying to cobble them together from the broken pieces is a fool's errand. It will only invite the aching in his chest to spread its jaws wider.
All he can do is act like it doesn't hurt. He forces an amused scoff.]
We both know you're the favorite. You could give him a pile of newspapers to sleep on and he'd still adore you.
[Who kept Ponchik company while Nikolai was at work for all those hours? Proving his point, the dog hasn't removed his attention from Alina since she arrived. He paces all around her, tail wagging and tongue lolling as he points his big puppy eyes at her.]
But I'll bring a bed when I come by.
[Think of it as a business transaction. Nothing more. Nevertheless, he's grateful for Ponchik, because without the need to trade the dog back and forth, he wouldn't know when he'd see Alina again.]
no subject
Ponchik certainly would take whatever scraps of attention he could get, and was it really that long ago Alina was any different? But it's cruel to even consider, even as a joke. Their dog deserves better. Now if only she could think the same of herself. ]
Yeah. Just let me know when that will be, I guess. [ A brief pause. It's tough enough seeing him now. Her eyes darting down to the dog instead, her hand wrapping tightly around the leash. Broken pieces of something she can't put back together again. ] Someone is usually home, and I'll let everyone know you aren't committing any pet thievery.