alek would give ninja the world, there is no doubt about that at all in his mind, all she has to do is say the world and he would lay it all at her feet for the taking. there’s a lump in his throat at how easily the team of endearment seems to slip from her lips –– it’s like a scene right out of his dreams, almost too good to be true and yet the warmth of her palm against his jaw is proof that this is real. like two celestial bodies, alek finds himself being drawn into her orbit once her hand falls from his face, closer and closer and closer until he feels his nose brush up against soft flesh. “i’m not leaving,” he promises, “don’t wanna go anywhere without you.” it’s a heavy truth, but he confesses it like it’s nothing at all; standing there, forehead to forehead in the middle of the pavement on a cold december night, alek thinks he would have laid himself bare at her command, confessed every sin he’s ever committed in exchange for absolution.
in theory, it would be so easy to close the distance, but the reality is that the scant few inches between them may as well be a chasm for how impossible it seems to cross it. he lets his eyes fall closed, hands coming up to grasp lightly at her face. he breathes in, out, in, out. even when he finally lets himself fall into her gravity, alek chickens out at the last second, tilting his head so that his lips press against the corner of her mouth instead. he lingers for a moment too long before pulling back and pressing another kiss to her forehead –– a poor attempt to cover up his brief lapse in self-control. “let’s go home,” he whispers, and then forces himself to take a step back.
after that, he moves in autopilot, wrapping an arm around her to try and keep her warm as he calls for an uber. their ride arrives not long after, and alek holds the door open for ninja before climbing into the backseat with her. the driver makes a lewd comment about alek getting lucky tonight, and it takes all his willpower and then some not to climb over the console to punch him in the mouth. instead, he pulls ninja into his side as he runs his fingers along the length of her arm. “it’s been a long night,” he replies, faux friendliness in his voice, “we’re probably just going to go to sleep once we get back.” the driver raises an eyebrow sceptically at that, but doesn’t say anything else, and alek lets himself relax a little.
ninja’s constantly reminded of life’s cruelty when she’s tiptoeing on his orbit -- how her hopes and dreams were gradually diminished with each passing year. she’d no longer fantasise about receiving a message from him out of the blue, or a phone call on her birthday. maybe it is her own stupidity to expect such things from a boy she hardly knew, after all, what she felt ( and to this day, still feels ) might not have been reciprocated, at all. though, deep in her heart, there is a beacon of hope, one even her negativity can’t destroy. now, she can feel it growing stronger by each second, enough to keep her grounded, hungry for more.
she sees him getting closer, this is it, she thinks - it’s finally happening. with a final effort not to pass out, she shuts her eyes, tilting her head a little, trying to fit him like a missing puzzle piece. she’s afraid to move or talk, afraid that a single movement of her can cause him to back off. first it’s his warm breath that she feels on her face, heart beating like it’ll pop out of her chest any given minute. ninja is a paper doll under his touch; shivering with the cold, dying to be reborn. it lasts shorter than she anticipates, like a feather brushed against her skin, almost unrealistic - like every other elusive kiss she imagined back then. i cannot be imagining all of it, she hears herself in the back of her consciousness.
the road is bumpy, her head slightly hops on his shoulder with every sharp turn. blues fixated on the blurry images seen from the window, she can’t help but feel like this is a dream - or worst case scenario, it’s real, but it’ll end soon. she falls silent, too busy with replaying the events of tonight in her head like a broken record. why is it so hard to love him? her hand finds his without looking, fingers interlaced, terrified that he’s going to vanish into thin air. maybe it’s cruel of her to doubt his love, but befittingly, much easier. once arrived, nin climbs the stairs, two at a time, faintly feeling him supporting her, probably to avoid any tripping accident. funny how clear minded she is, but as if she vowed to be mute, ninja lets the deafening silence come between them. lock turns. this is how it feels to be in his head - she is too busy trying to capture every little detail, anything that can give her an insight on his life. absentmindedly she lumbers, fingers brush the walls, heavily breathing. a strong pull leads her to his room; his room, she whispers, still not sure if it’s a dream. then she sees it - the same breath nin’s been holding escapes her lips in a loud gasp. tracing the corners of the frame, nin looks at herself, her past, her childhood. she’s teary eyed as her fingers caress his face in the photo, “you kept it.” her voice is low, even inaudible. frame pressed to her chest, she collapses on his bed, unable to think straight. “i-i thought you’d forgotten me.”
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