We're speaking different languages now.
Sun Sep 29, 2013 19:01

It was everything she thought she wanted to hear, but it only took a moment to realize how real and true and wrong it was. Alexandra was legally promised to someone else, and Niccolò was contractually obligated to not just anyone but Amelia, her own flesh and blood. It was all so wrong! Yet here they were, talking of running away and ruining their own lives for selfish teenage love.

She could not bring herself to consider their affair a mistake, but what he suggested was… was madness! Clearly he had been raised more liberally, allowed to think for himself, a dangerous privilege. But the Lyra had not been afforded this liberty, and thus she was so terribly ingrained into her breeding, into the belief of her own worthlessness. She was a doll, and she knew it, had always known it. Changing her fate was as impossible as rearranging the night sky.

Perhaps he did not realize it, but his words almost tricked her into agreement, toying with her emotions and her guilt. She did love him—she had tried so very hard not to, but love was stronger than anything she could even pretend to be—and according to him was therefore almost obligated to marry him. Love was not a promise, she knew, or else she could have run away years ago with her last love. But this was different, more potent. More real. Ika had been a childhood love, and while Alexandra tried to bank on the immaturity and irrationality of her affection for Niccolò, writing it off as a teenager’s fantasies, this was passionate and inescapable.

The seventeen year old needed to think. The core of her being begged her to accept, to run away and be Mrs. York, to let the world spin and crash and fall where it might without giving a damn. Alexandra felt as if she might burst, and she needed time to think. Time, time, time… It was slipping, passing, drifting by. She had to stop it, had to think.

The only way to pause the world was to let it pass them by. She grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled him up toward her, more powerful than her stature suggested. Her lips were rough but affectionate, though she felt little of the kiss herself. She was swimming through her own mind, drowning in the thoughts, a conscious effort keeping her blue eyes shut. For whatever reason, she became acutely aware of her hair moving, perhaps shifting because of the wind or perhaps inspired by Niccolò’s hands. Alexandra desperately wanted to say yes.

But yet…

“Alexandra, wait!” The blonde snapped around at the commanding voice of her father. Though she probably knew what he was going to say, the clever thing she was, she knew that to maintain her spot as her father’s favorite, she needed to do what he said.

She remembered having those thoughts, her blind allegiance to her father. Some time ago there would have been no question as to if she would be loyal, but now there was Niccolò, wrenching everything with his tragic beauty and devoted interference. She loved both her father and Niccolò, could not imagine her life without either.

But she had lived without Niccolò in the past and surely could learn to do it again, couldn’t she? Alexandra feared such a reality, but it was the only choice. Despite how close she had just gotten, she recognized that there was really never any question of her decision. She released Niccolò and felt tears forming once again. Tears of goodbye.

For a moment, she could only stare at him, lost in his dark eyes but not without hope for escape. Without real reason, she felt her hand reach out and cross his face, but not gently. Alexandra had slapped him, and as she opened her mouth to speak, the tears cascaded. “Why do you have to do that?!” she demanded hysterically. “Why do you have to make me decide?! We can’t simply-..! You know we can’t-..! Niccolo, I--..!” Her voice died suddenly, anger replaced by quiet finality. “We can’t.”

She felt herself retracting, blood pumping, ready to run from him, abandon problematic and forceful situations like she always did. But she was not running. Her feet were planted firmly where she stood, and while emotionally she pulled away, physically she stood strong. That in itself, she knew subconsciously, was a testament to what Niccolò had turned her into, and to what she could never be.

  • ¿Quieres casarte conmigo?Niccolò, Wed Sep 25 21:01
    Their kiss tasted like goodbye, and it might've been their last, and there was a possibility they were about to end right there on Pearl Street, their shadows fading into darkness. Niccolò kept his... more
    • We're speaking different languages now. — Alexandra, Sun Sep 29 19:01
      • I was speaking the language of love.Niccolò, Thu Oct 3 18:45
        A startled laugh burst from Niccolò's throat, his knee scraping against the pavement as Alexandra wrenched him forward and off the ground, the neck of his shirt bunched up in her tightened fist,... more
        • I don't speak that one.Alexandra, Mon Oct 14 00:12
          It was over in an instant, her demanding questions, but all at once, she knew what she had done. Alexandra had taken all of the trust and hope and everything else good in her empty shell of a life,... more
          • Let me teach you.Niccolò, Tue Nov 5 12:34
            He barely withheld his flinch as Alexandra reached towards him once more, but her touch was suddenly tender, the gentle stroke of pale fingers against his stung cheek, and despite himself Niccolò... more
            • Firm hands attached to Alexandra’s shoulders and pulled, and romantic words of poetic standards buzzed in her ears, but she refused to look at their source. After outbursts, she had mustered a bit of ... more
              • You're a terrible student.Niccolò, Wed Nov 6 23:10
                The night had started off terrifying, so promising, and the scent of hope was a little like gasoline; overwhelming and maybe a little foul, but undeniably powerful and clung to the skin, and if a... more
                • I guess I've flunked.Alexandra, Fri Nov 8 17:12
                  Niccolò released her, and without realizing it, Alexandra retracted, taking a couple slow steps back as she rubbed the ache out of the shoulder his dominant hand had gripped, the one that hurt more.... more
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