... there is only one of him, and that is the problem ♡
⤿ pairings. aleksander x gn reader
⤿ contents. sfw, mutual pining, smoking, slight jealousy, overall, it's just aleksander getting upset at your previous lovers :D.
⤿ thoughts. to whoever requested him, may all your dreams come true. i had a different plan for the plot line, but i changed it up since i didn't like it.
"What's so good about this cancer stick?" Your index finger taps against the thin white cigarette in between his lips.
"For one.." The man starts. He leans into you, slumping against his spot beside your chair. You watch him carefully puff out visible smoke with a scrunch nose. "They can get you closer to someone."
"How so?" A tentative smile grows on his face, "all I know is that they stink."
He comes to a conclusion, eyes twinkling your way, "Don't like it?"
"Nuh-uh."
"Have you given it a go?" Now, Aleksander would never force you to try something you don't like. He simply likes watching your nose scrunch up and your eyes roll at him. It's cute. Especially when your lips twitch into a tiny, soft smile. "Wasn't it you who told me to never say I dislike something if I haven't tried it out first?"
There it is.
That little eye roll.
You regard him with a teasing smile. You've been got. Now, you wished you've never said that. "That doesn't apply here!"
"Doesn't it?" His broad hand practically engulfs his lower half of his face. He doesn't know when he starts to hum, but his foot taps along with him, and his head tilts to inhale the tabaco.
In the background, a long forgotten tune plays softly from the radio. The wind was nonexistent, and still, the open window lets the moonlight in, a not so typical atmosphere in the regular comfort of your apartment.
"Back to my question!" You remind him, lightly bumping your head to his shoulder. He misses the warmth you provide when you sit back straight.
"It's cathartic." His confession is met with such innocent curiosity that he almost regrets adding a mysterious element. "To share a confined space with a cigarette, it'll have you confessing your every secret."
Your eyes rise to the night sky, lingering around to find the brightest star, and when you find it, a smile breaks out on your face. "Well, we don't need that to have me confessing, hmmm — I've an old lover who used to shower me in gifts."
Though it isn't exactly obvious, his face lights up, happy to know you were treated right.
"But, it was always something I never liked." Not to sound ungrateful. You were not ungrateful. Anything but. "I was never heard. Though, maybe that was what I needed to find out what I wanted. I'd like to be seen!"
He listens with a poker face. Shoulders drawn back, amber eyes failing to hide his bitterness. He hoped that the soft melodies around him would ease the sadness gathering at the edges of his face.
The cigarette in his hand burns, forgotten. The ash falls to the concrete floor of the balcony, some of it even flies into the air as if it were specks of fire!
"Has that been accomplished?" He finally inquires after being friends with silence.
You glance his way. A little grin graces your features, and you give him a sly nod — "There's this man who makes me feel as though it was meant to be, and maybe it is. Don't tell him I said that."
His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, "Oh, yeah?"
"Mhm! It's a secret." Bringing up a finger to your lips, you shushed him.
Aleksander looks away before a grimaces replaces his warm expression. He mirrors a sad baby pup in the rain.
"My lips are sealed..."
You laugh, melodious and free of judgment. "Don't get jealous now! Ease up, you!"
His grimace doesn't disappear, but it does smooth out into a thin line. He rolls his neck back, a crack resonating softly from his bad posture. "...If I could be one hundred men, every one of them would adore you."
"One hundred?!" You exclaim in surprisement. "Don't you think that would be a little too much fans?"
He tilts his head as a sheepish look runs across his face. "That may be an exaggeration, but my point still stands."
"And, pray tell, what is the point?"
Silence.
In a couple of seconds, the music will start again. It seems to be on a constant loop. A replay or a mistake?
Oftentimes, you'd kick off your shoes and dance with the officer. Today, you're lounging around as if you have all the time in the world. No worries about the next minute.
His lips crack apart, and his tongue darts out to wet them.
He isn't sure how to say his next words.
Quite a feat for a man like him!
All of a sudden, he winces in pain and drops his cigarette. He jumps up, holding up his hand, and whistles lowly at the sight. The rough skin of his fingertips blacked with burn marks. His confession stick burnt him!
